My wife and the mother of our six children, Lucia, is from an Italian family and two of our disagreements are whether Bolognese sauce can be served with spaghetti and whether a cappuccino after dinner constitutes a grave faux pas. Imagine my excitement upon reading in the Oz ‘Italy’s ten Culinary Commandments.’ Number four read: ‘The correct pasta for Bolognese is tagliatelle, not spaghetti,’ and number six: ‘Espresso is the post-dinner coffee. Cappuccino is for breakfast.’ Lucia responded that she was happy to comply with commandment four, but as for six it was entirely a matter of personal preference and I should mind my own business. ‘I’m just trying to help you,’ I pleaded. La moglie’s response, ‘Va fanculo!’

South Australia heads to the polls on 15 March and the government in which I serve seeks a fourth term. By the time of publication all decision-making will be on hold and the government in ‘caretaker’ mode. This will be my fifth election but really the first in which I’ve been able to enlist the children to help in any substantial way — letterboxing, distributing how-to-vote cards and hanging election signs in the wee hours. I’ve met many young people getting involved in politics whose only knowledge is what they have gleaned from watching DVDs of The West Wing. The extent to which my own children have been immersed in my job was brought home to me by my three-year-old, Thomas. He’s taken to grabbing my mobile phone and ordering the rest of us to be quiet — ‘I’m on the radio!’ He then emerges from his room five minutes later — ‘It’s OK, you can talk now. I’ve finished talking on the radio.’

Last year I did an overnight shift with an ambulance crew working out of Salisbury in Adelaide’s northern suburbs. I enjoyed the experience so much I decided to repeat it, but this time in the emergency department of the Flinders Medical Centre in the southern suburbs. It’s worth it to see the surprise on people’s faces (staff and patients) when greeted by the Health Minister at 3 am. More importantly for me, nothing quite beats seeing our health system in action before making important decisions. Among the range of presentations were a footballer with a compound fracture (the bone was exposed!), two suicide attempts (one by drinking bleach) and the normal chest pains and breathlessness. I chose a Saturday night, thinking that would be the busiest night of the week. It was actually relatively quiet. It turns out Monday morning is the busiest time in A&E; the ill, with a misplaced sense of politeness, don’t want to disturb doctors over the weekend and wait till Monday morning before presenting to the hospital. By this time, they are often sicker and the hospital is full because no one has been able to be discharged over the weekend. The message is — if you become ill over the weekend, don’t leave it till Monday.

‘How is it you’re always there when we come?’ one Gestapo officer asked a captured RAF pilot. The airman lied: ‘We have powerful binoculars, and watch all the time.’ He was asked no further questions. I had the recent privilege to read up on radar for the opening of an international conference in Adelaide. As Minister for Defence Industries, I was struck by how Robert Watson-Watt’s novel idea might have been prevented by the bureaucratic machinations of Churchill’s adviser, Friedrich Lindemann. He told Churchill radar would never work and favoured such loopy proposals as aerial mines. Fortunately, radar found a great champion in Henry Tizard, who managed to hold off Lindemann just long enough for radar to prove its value through those dark summer months of 1940. The clash of Lindemann and Tizard presents a cautionary tale to politicians who will always less than perfectly understand the subtleties of difficult science.

The SA Parliament has a tradition of moving condolence motions for former members upon their death. Normally those noted are little known. Recently, however, a Labor legend was mourned — avid Spectator reader and self-described socialist, Frank Blevins. Frank was a great South Australian. He emigrated from Manchester to Whyalla where he worked on the tugboats and rose through the ranks of the Seamen’s Union. In his maiden speech he said, ‘I am a dedicated socialist,’ concluding ‘Like this chamber [referring to the state upper house he was elected to] the sooner capitalism is relegated to the history books the better off mankind will be.’ In government his reputation as a Mr Fix-It earned him the job of Treasurer in the aftermath of the State Bank. He took on some shibboleths of the Left, privatising the partially state-owned gas company and the financially viable assets of the State Bank. His most lasting achievement was his commitment in 1992 of $23.5 million for the South Australian Exploration Initiative. This investment has been replicated around the world by jurisdictions trying to kick-start nascent resource industries. In SA it has led to a massive expansion of mining exploration, and the development of at least a dozen new mines that are only now, some twenty years later, coming into operation. Vale, Frank.