He made one comment that rings very true:
One thing that I've learned since what happened to me happened is: You don't know the kind of pain and loss other people may have gone through — even close friends and acquaintances. ... In really awful science fiction terms it is like putting on the sunglasses in They Live and then seeing the world for what it really is. Do you know what I mean? Obviously I knew there was loss and death and depression, but you can only sympathize so far until it directly happens to you.And he ended with a bit which I thought was pretty funny (after earlier saying that he personally didn't buy the idea that getting physically fit was a help with grieving):
On whether he's disappointed people who expected him to be funnyOddly, as it happens, only last weekend I was pointing to a crop in a field near Mulgowie and opining that it might be sorghum.
Sorry for bumming you out. I'm very sorry. Go walk for half an hour; it will flood you with endorphins. ... What am I saying?! You're NPR listeners. You're used to being bummed out. Now let's cut to some sad jazz. Stay tuned: We're going to talk about things to do with sorghum. It's sorghum season!
Also somewhat oddly - I have no memory at all as to how it is that I know what sorghum looks like. Perhaps it was covered in primary school? In fact, behind my primary school, there were several factory buildings, one of which used to be a place that dealt with different seeds/grains - I think truck loads of stuff would arrive there and perhaps be distributed out in smaller packaging. The place had a distinctive, but not unpleasant, smell. It's no longer there; I was in the area about 6 months ago.
And for the uneducated, here is sorghum in the field:
Yes, I am sure that is what I was seeing out of the car window in the Lockyer Valley.
By the way, fresh corn from the Valley is particularly delicious at the moment....