Crocodile Dundee and the Sundial Kid

Press, 21 February 1987, Page 16

Crocodile Dundee and the Sundial Kid

by

When we arrived in Sydney, Paul Hogan of “Crocodile Dundee” fame, was a painter on the Sydney Harbour Bridge. But in no time flat he was a household word, with his own TV show.

When in 1976, he decided to make a television pilot programme called “Soapbox,” he rang “The Inventors” programme on national TV and asked for a mad inventor. The producer had no hesitation in recommending my husband.

Why he suggested him over hundreds of others, I do not know. Mad is not a word that sits well on the cirriculum vitae of a serious, career-minded aeronautical engineer. When asked for a loony invention, he said... “You mean, like an indoor Sundial?

“Have you invented an inndoor sundial?” the caller asked, incredulous... “I just did.”

So he was scheduled- to appear on the pilot of “Soapbox.” He was told — no money — but instead the opportunity “to give your real invention a plug on the show.” This invention was a clip-on attachment for a baby stroller, to enable a

second child to be transported. We confidently expected to make our fortune from this, and the sooner the better.

Although “Soapbox” was supposed to be an

opportunity for ordinary people to sound off, the participants were mainly already over-exposed TV personalities.- The show dragged interminably, and it was literally after mid-

night when the mad inventor had his turn. Normal sundials, he explained learnedly, had to have the angle of the central arm fixed at the angle of latitude, so you could not use the same sundial in Singapore and say, Sydney. Not so with the indoor sundial because it was portable and had its own adjustable light. It could be used anywhere. The movable light also made an indoor sundial indispensable in, bad weather, when there was no sun, and at night, when it is dark. And what’s more, he said/ owlishly studying the monstrosity, it is an attractive decorating piece for your lounge or patio. The huge studio audience, lulled to sleep by a succession of already toofamiliar spiels, started to laugh. Maybe it was fatigue, but they found him exceedingly funny. The inventor was gratified. Now for his big moment, a free plug for his stroller attachment. He switchd to his serious mode, but the audience didn’t know the difference.

The principal advantage, he announced, was the ease with which you

could remove the attachment.

‘ But when he went to disengage it, it stuck fast. He tugged and tugged but it refused to budge. He became agitated, sweating profusely beneath his unaccustomed pancake make-up. He made a final mammoth effort, managed to jam his hand, utter an obscenity, and fail over backwards.

The audience, obviously wondering what the mad cove was going to do next, laughed themselves into hysteria. As a joke, his serious invention a knockout!

However, it was a totally mortified and embarrassed Inventor who drove me home that night. I tried to console him and stop laughing, all at the same time. But what to him was a fiasco, was to show biz, a triumph. A few days later, we received a letter from Paul Hogan saying “Soapbox” had been a disaster but the mad inventor was a sensation! Would he like to demonstrate his indoor sundial on the top-rating “Paul Hogan Show.” He could expect a fee of SAustlOO, a lot of money in . those days. Hoges, as Paul Hogan

was known in those days, did a quick run through in the dressing roojn. Absolutely casual, no worries. Then he introduced his protege to his audience of three million as “My Mate Hughie from down’n the

pub...” And the mad inventor! got his hundred dollars, which is more than he has; ever got for anything else he has invented. It’s a pity he didn’t patent that door sundial.