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Carry a Big Stick
The frank and fearless story of a man fighting MS with comedy.
Tim Ferguson was a star of the international comedy circuit. Along with Paul McDermott and Richard Fidler he was part of the edgy, provocative and very funny Doug Anthony All Stars (DAAS). In 1994 they were at the height of their powers, performing in a season at the Criterion Theatre on Piccadilly Circus. The three mates, who began busking on the streets of Canberra a decade earlier, had achieved their ambition to become the self-styled rock stars of comedy.
Then, all of a sudden, he woke up one morning and his whole left side wouldn't work. He'd had a lurking suspicion that something was wrong and after more episodes he went to a doctor thinking he'd be told to change his diet and get more sleep. It wasn't so simple. An eventual diagnosis of multiple sclerosis (MS) meant an end to the frenetic, high-energy life he was living.
Carry a Big Stick is a chance for Tim to tell his story. He wants to make people laugh but also give inspiration to all the people doing it hard. A lot of people keep MS to themselves because it's invisible. In Tim's case, he has the stick. 'It's such a visible sign that something's happened; it's just easier if people know.'
Carry a Big Stick meanders through Tim's life, and explains how the boy who went to nine schools in 13 years got used to saying, 'Hi, I'm the new kid'. It will detail his ambitions to become an actor and how the Doug Anthony Allstars were born and went on to become what Rolling Stone called 'The 3 amigos from hell'. Diagnosis changed a lot of things but Tim s quick wit and sense of humour weren t affected. This inspiring memoir shows us that you can laugh in the face of adversity.
Tim Ferguson was a star of the international comedy circuit. Along with Paul McDermott and Richard Fidler he was part of the edgy, provocative and very funny Doug Anthony All Stars (DAAS). In 1994 they were at the height of their powers, performing in a season at the Criterion Theatre on Piccadilly Circus. The three mates, who began busking on the streets of Canberra a decade earlier, had achieved their ambition to become the self-styled rock stars of comedy.
Then, all of a sudden, he woke up one morning and his whole left side wouldn't work. He'd had a lurking suspicion that something was wrong and after more episodes he went to a doctor thinking he'd be told to change his diet and get more sleep. It wasn't so simple. An eventual diagnosis of multiple sclerosis (MS) meant an end to the frenetic, high-energy life he was living.
Carry a Big Stick is a chance for Tim to tell his story. He wants to make people laugh but also give inspiration to all the people doing it hard. A lot of people keep MS to themselves because it's invisible. In Tim's case, he has the stick. 'It's such a visible sign that something's happened; it's just easier if people know.'
Carry a Big Stick meanders through Tim's life, and explains how the boy who went to nine schools in 13 years got used to saying, 'Hi, I'm the new kid'. It will detail his ambitions to become an actor and how the Doug Anthony Allstars were born and went on to become what Rolling Stone called 'The 3 amigos from hell'. Diagnosis changed a lot of things but Tim s quick wit and sense of humour weren t affected. This inspiring memoir shows us that you can laugh in the face of adversity.
368 pages, Paperback
First published September 24, 2013
6 people are currently reading
104 people want to read
About the author
Tim Ferguson
4 books10 followersTimothy "Tim" Dorcen Langbene Ferguson is an Australian comedian, television presenter, game show host and writer.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Fer...
Librarian Note:
There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tim_Fer...
Librarian Note:
There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 47 reviews
February 12, 2015
Back in the day I was a big fan of the Doug Anthony Allstars. Their dynamic, in-your-face brand of comedy was an eye-opener for me and many viewers of The Big Gig on ABC TV. When the trio broke up in the mid-1990s, I assumed it was because the members wanted to go in different directions. Little did I or the rest of the fans know it was due to Tim Ferguson's problems with relapsing/remitting Multiple Sclerosis. When he went public about it in 2010, I still did not connect his condition with the break-up of DAAS.
So when I learned that Ferguson had written a memoir, with the subtitle a funny, fearless life of friendship, laughter and MS, I assumed I'd be reading a typical story of heroic battling against the disease, detailed information about causes and cures, and funny anecdotes about living with a chronic condition. I could not have been more wrong! Ah, I smiled to myself, you can rely upon a DAAS member NOT to be typical about anything.
Instead I found myself reading a standard kind of autobiography, in conventional chronological order from birth to the present. Ferguson's easy, entertaining writing style makes this an enjoyable read, which held my interest to the end (I often get bored with autobiographies if I judge them to be too self-indugent.) Ferguson skims over a lot of the issues with MS, and, despite the book's title, MS does not feature in the story as a major discussion point of his life.
What I found myself enjoying was a fairly detailed description of Ferguson's 25 year career as an entertainer. Thanks to his considerable experience, I read an interesting examination of the nature of Comedy, and how a performance is constructed. I appreciated his analysis of the DAAS format of loud, cheeky comedy which incorporated divergent strands of music, political satire and slap-stick.
The Allstars’ style was rabidly aggressive and in-your-face, lurching from shambolic improvisation to regimented regimes. The reason we developed this style was purely for survival. We knew that our audience could leave at any time to go shopping. We had to do anything and everything to prevent them from wandering away. It was a style the Allstars continued to hone, and it compounded over the years.
His descriptions of how network television executives operate were certainly revealing. I was blown away by the extent of his talent as a creator, writer, performer and producer of comedy in Australia. His transition from live performer to writer and teacher in the 2000s added to my understanding about the importance of comedy as an art form.
Towards the end of the book, Ferguson does spend more time talking about MS. Specifically he explains why he concealed his condition from the industry and the public for so many years.
I don’t know whether it was denial, stubbornness, embarrassment or a combination of all three but I did not want anybody to know. Telling people would do nothing to cure my MS and would (so I thought) label me in a way I wasn’t prepared for and couldn’t control. I thought,’when everybody hears about it, I won’t be there to explain that I’m still functioning. There’ll be a run on my stocks. And their pity will drive me nuts.’
I get where he's coming from. I'm pleased that Ferguson has carved out a new career which will sustain him into the future as his MS progresses. I only hope that his deterioration is very slow, because the world needs his comic genius for as long as possible.
So when I learned that Ferguson had written a memoir, with the subtitle a funny, fearless life of friendship, laughter and MS, I assumed I'd be reading a typical story of heroic battling against the disease, detailed information about causes and cures, and funny anecdotes about living with a chronic condition. I could not have been more wrong! Ah, I smiled to myself, you can rely upon a DAAS member NOT to be typical about anything.
Instead I found myself reading a standard kind of autobiography, in conventional chronological order from birth to the present. Ferguson's easy, entertaining writing style makes this an enjoyable read, which held my interest to the end (I often get bored with autobiographies if I judge them to be too self-indugent.) Ferguson skims over a lot of the issues with MS, and, despite the book's title, MS does not feature in the story as a major discussion point of his life.
What I found myself enjoying was a fairly detailed description of Ferguson's 25 year career as an entertainer. Thanks to his considerable experience, I read an interesting examination of the nature of Comedy, and how a performance is constructed. I appreciated his analysis of the DAAS format of loud, cheeky comedy which incorporated divergent strands of music, political satire and slap-stick.
The Allstars’ style was rabidly aggressive and in-your-face, lurching from shambolic improvisation to regimented regimes. The reason we developed this style was purely for survival. We knew that our audience could leave at any time to go shopping. We had to do anything and everything to prevent them from wandering away. It was a style the Allstars continued to hone, and it compounded over the years.
His descriptions of how network television executives operate were certainly revealing. I was blown away by the extent of his talent as a creator, writer, performer and producer of comedy in Australia. His transition from live performer to writer and teacher in the 2000s added to my understanding about the importance of comedy as an art form.
Towards the end of the book, Ferguson does spend more time talking about MS. Specifically he explains why he concealed his condition from the industry and the public for so many years.
I don’t know whether it was denial, stubbornness, embarrassment or a combination of all three but I did not want anybody to know. Telling people would do nothing to cure my MS and would (so I thought) label me in a way I wasn’t prepared for and couldn’t control. I thought,’when everybody hears about it, I won’t be there to explain that I’m still functioning. There’ll be a run on my stocks. And their pity will drive me nuts.’
I get where he's coming from. I'm pleased that Ferguson has carved out a new career which will sustain him into the future as his MS progresses. I only hope that his deterioration is very slow, because the world needs his comic genius for as long as possible.
May 29, 2014
3 and a half stars...
This review comes to you courtesy of Wild Colonial Girl blog:
http://wildcolonialgirl.wordpress.com...
Tim Ferguson may want to throw off the shackles of being a Doug Anthony All Star but I’m not going to let him. I’m 18. It’s New Year’s Eve. It’s late. It might even be midnight. I’m feeling like I’ve taken an E but the rave scene is yet to come. I’m screaming like those girls at the Beatles. I’m in the audience for the Doug Anthony All Stars and a girl in doc martens is chasing Paul McDermott around the stage like she’s going to eat him alive. She is fast but he is faster. They are both completely desperate. I want to be her.
DAAS had a huge impact on my life at the time. They were inventive, creative (I bought a great deal of their memorabilia), sexy, at times scary and often just plain filthy. I spent many hours weighing up which one I desired most. Poor Richard never got much of a look in, but I was drawn to Paul’s on-the-knife-edge humour and voice (of course) and Tim’s sweet looks and sense of vulnerability (and ability to harmonise). Once I saw them lounging (and I think Richard fell off his chair) at Mietta’s (where I was pretending to be posh by ordering a Brandy Alexander, the way you order completely wrong drinks when you’re 18) and spent hours trying to work out a strategy to approach (and which one to choose) by which time they’d left. They were like Violent Femmes meets Monty Python: a heady mix.
I always followed their careers as they meandered through Good News Week, Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush and Radio National. I felt that Paul and Richard kind of found their natural fit in the media but with Tim, I was never so sure. His puppy dog cuteness meant he could get away with everything, but he still always seemed too subversive for mainstream Channel 9. He’s wandered his way around to teaching and writing about comedy, now wielding a big stick, and it works.
His memoir, Carry a Big Stick, traces the usual steps: childhood, parents, family, poor sportsmanship, difficulty with girls (who could have thought?), monumental success, looking for jobs in all the wrong places, and a body that starts to let him down.
When you’re reading memoirs (good ones), they trigger memories as you search for connections. Tim’s career is clearly shaped from early experiences. When he talks about moving from school to school, never settling, it reminds me of the many times I was new kid at the door, teachers doing their best (or very little) to settle me in. I love Tim’s interrogation of the strategies he would use for making friends; I had my own.
I also start to recognise, with an increasing sense of dread, characteristics I fast-tracked to my later years — influenced and explained by the transient life: the fear of being unmoored; the inability to handle conflict; the desire to be noticed (if indirectly); and the strange way I used to let friendships sail off without me.
"I was constantly nervous and didn’t know why … it was the dread of drifting … The ache for performance racked me. I was desperately, breathlessly jealous of my friends and lovers, envying their lackadaisical confidence in their futures. Adrenaline would kick my system at the slightest change in their circumstances."
* * *
"I hadn’t learned how to lose my temper – after so many years in strange seas, why would I have learned to rock the boat."
* * *
"As attracted as I was to new people, I had to maintain the friendships I’d already developed. The darker side of the many shifts of my childhood had given me an ability to let people drift away as soon as they were out of my line of sight."
All of these things struck a nerve because I could see the threads going back, unravelling, to my time in the playground. As a child I desperately craved standing out (for my passions) while being at the same time extremely self-conscious. These two competing forces often threatened to tear me apart. For Tim, he desperately wants fame for the same reasons. He sees a therapist, who comes up with:
" … after my childhood attending so many schools in so many cities and towns, I was after something beyond cash and a gang. I was anxious to achieve a feeling of recognition, to no longer be considered an anonymous ‘new kid’."
This becomes the driving force for Tim’s career — and the strength of his memoir is based on it. I lingered over that passage for a long time, as it revealed something profound to me. It explained my desire to write just_a_girl, and the sense of release that writing it achieved. It was like all those ‘new girls’ in the playground had merged to become Layla and my adult self could shuffle forward like a Darwinian monkey to stand tall and walk away.
Tim also frames the Doug Anthonys’ success (and his general desire to perform) within an analysis of a wider Australian culture:
"Australia’s convict past instilled in the culture a deep suspicion of anything classy, clever or feminine … No other country would bother with such self-defeatist numb-nuttery. Only Australians strive to pretend they’re dumb and downtrodden."
Given his years of practice, you’d hope Tim’s memoir is funny. This is his forte and what he’s spent most of his life researching. At times cocky, at times blunt, Tim challenges the accepted view (especially among filmmakers; they get a good serve) that good dramatic writing needs to be, well, serious. He argues that the two masks — comedy and tragedy — are weighted equally, that all drama writers need to learn the craft of comedy too. It’s an interesting observation, especially as some of the best Oz television at the moment straddles that tragi-comedy divide beautifully: I’m thinking of Rake, Offspring, Chris Lilley’s exceptional series and The Moodys.
While Tim lets the audience in to MS and its effects, his intention is made clear: he wants no sympathy. The focus is on working around the illness and carrying on. Sometimes this skating around topics means there are obvious gaps. For example, he refuses to talk about his children, his former relationships, his breakdown. While I understand this reluctance, it means there are layers to him that we miss. To not see him as a father, for example, given the wonderful evocation of his own dad, is ultimately frustrating.
But for Tim, it all comes back to the comedy? And what’s the grand principle?
"Surprise the audience with a truth they recognise."
I guess that’s why the Doug Anthony All Stars appealed to me so much. I saw myself in their diatribes against and for feminism, art, wankers, and musical genre. They tore down my defences and allegiances, and rebuilt them in ways that challenged, frightened and excited me.
As for comedy, I’m working on learning from his approach. I find just_a_girl and Layla’s adventures pretty funny in parts but most readers use the word ‘disturbing’. Before I write the next novel, I’ll be looking into the craft behind comedy — and using it to get up to no good.
This review comes to you courtesy of Wild Colonial Girl blog:
http://wildcolonialgirl.wordpress.com...
Tim Ferguson may want to throw off the shackles of being a Doug Anthony All Star but I’m not going to let him. I’m 18. It’s New Year’s Eve. It’s late. It might even be midnight. I’m feeling like I’ve taken an E but the rave scene is yet to come. I’m screaming like those girls at the Beatles. I’m in the audience for the Doug Anthony All Stars and a girl in doc martens is chasing Paul McDermott around the stage like she’s going to eat him alive. She is fast but he is faster. They are both completely desperate. I want to be her.
DAAS had a huge impact on my life at the time. They were inventive, creative (I bought a great deal of their memorabilia), sexy, at times scary and often just plain filthy. I spent many hours weighing up which one I desired most. Poor Richard never got much of a look in, but I was drawn to Paul’s on-the-knife-edge humour and voice (of course) and Tim’s sweet looks and sense of vulnerability (and ability to harmonise). Once I saw them lounging (and I think Richard fell off his chair) at Mietta’s (where I was pretending to be posh by ordering a Brandy Alexander, the way you order completely wrong drinks when you’re 18) and spent hours trying to work out a strategy to approach (and which one to choose) by which time they’d left. They were like Violent Femmes meets Monty Python: a heady mix.
I always followed their careers as they meandered through Good News Week, Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush and Radio National. I felt that Paul and Richard kind of found their natural fit in the media but with Tim, I was never so sure. His puppy dog cuteness meant he could get away with everything, but he still always seemed too subversive for mainstream Channel 9. He’s wandered his way around to teaching and writing about comedy, now wielding a big stick, and it works.
His memoir, Carry a Big Stick, traces the usual steps: childhood, parents, family, poor sportsmanship, difficulty with girls (who could have thought?), monumental success, looking for jobs in all the wrong places, and a body that starts to let him down.
When you’re reading memoirs (good ones), they trigger memories as you search for connections. Tim’s career is clearly shaped from early experiences. When he talks about moving from school to school, never settling, it reminds me of the many times I was new kid at the door, teachers doing their best (or very little) to settle me in. I love Tim’s interrogation of the strategies he would use for making friends; I had my own.
I also start to recognise, with an increasing sense of dread, characteristics I fast-tracked to my later years — influenced and explained by the transient life: the fear of being unmoored; the inability to handle conflict; the desire to be noticed (if indirectly); and the strange way I used to let friendships sail off without me.
"I was constantly nervous and didn’t know why … it was the dread of drifting … The ache for performance racked me. I was desperately, breathlessly jealous of my friends and lovers, envying their lackadaisical confidence in their futures. Adrenaline would kick my system at the slightest change in their circumstances."
* * *
"I hadn’t learned how to lose my temper – after so many years in strange seas, why would I have learned to rock the boat."
* * *
"As attracted as I was to new people, I had to maintain the friendships I’d already developed. The darker side of the many shifts of my childhood had given me an ability to let people drift away as soon as they were out of my line of sight."
All of these things struck a nerve because I could see the threads going back, unravelling, to my time in the playground. As a child I desperately craved standing out (for my passions) while being at the same time extremely self-conscious. These two competing forces often threatened to tear me apart. For Tim, he desperately wants fame for the same reasons. He sees a therapist, who comes up with:
" … after my childhood attending so many schools in so many cities and towns, I was after something beyond cash and a gang. I was anxious to achieve a feeling of recognition, to no longer be considered an anonymous ‘new kid’."
This becomes the driving force for Tim’s career — and the strength of his memoir is based on it. I lingered over that passage for a long time, as it revealed something profound to me. It explained my desire to write just_a_girl, and the sense of release that writing it achieved. It was like all those ‘new girls’ in the playground had merged to become Layla and my adult self could shuffle forward like a Darwinian monkey to stand tall and walk away.
Tim also frames the Doug Anthonys’ success (and his general desire to perform) within an analysis of a wider Australian culture:
"Australia’s convict past instilled in the culture a deep suspicion of anything classy, clever or feminine … No other country would bother with such self-defeatist numb-nuttery. Only Australians strive to pretend they’re dumb and downtrodden."
Given his years of practice, you’d hope Tim’s memoir is funny. This is his forte and what he’s spent most of his life researching. At times cocky, at times blunt, Tim challenges the accepted view (especially among filmmakers; they get a good serve) that good dramatic writing needs to be, well, serious. He argues that the two masks — comedy and tragedy — are weighted equally, that all drama writers need to learn the craft of comedy too. It’s an interesting observation, especially as some of the best Oz television at the moment straddles that tragi-comedy divide beautifully: I’m thinking of Rake, Offspring, Chris Lilley’s exceptional series and The Moodys.
While Tim lets the audience in to MS and its effects, his intention is made clear: he wants no sympathy. The focus is on working around the illness and carrying on. Sometimes this skating around topics means there are obvious gaps. For example, he refuses to talk about his children, his former relationships, his breakdown. While I understand this reluctance, it means there are layers to him that we miss. To not see him as a father, for example, given the wonderful evocation of his own dad, is ultimately frustrating.
But for Tim, it all comes back to the comedy? And what’s the grand principle?
"Surprise the audience with a truth they recognise."
I guess that’s why the Doug Anthony All Stars appealed to me so much. I saw myself in their diatribes against and for feminism, art, wankers, and musical genre. They tore down my defences and allegiances, and rebuilt them in ways that challenged, frightened and excited me.
As for comedy, I’m working on learning from his approach. I find just_a_girl and Layla’s adventures pretty funny in parts but most readers use the word ‘disturbing’. Before I write the next novel, I’ll be looking into the craft behind comedy — and using it to get up to no good.
December 10, 2014
I have to get one thing off my chest before the review proper. Tim talks about his childhood, growing up in rural Australia and snapping the necks of rabbits he catches in traps. He takes a swipe at vegans and says how rabbits cause all sorts of problems with land degradation, etc. But he completely ignores the fact that his dad was a beef farmer at the time, which causes a huge impact the environment, with water and air pollution being two big factors.
Now, onto the rest...I was at uni when DAAS were in their prime, and saw them perform live about 4 times. They were funny, they were smart and yes, they were often offensive. The humour was often dark and their politics were mixed. They were neither liberal nor conservative. 'Anarchists' was probably the closest label you could pin on them.
Tim was my favourite...but as I grew up, I realized I could relate more to Paul and after reading this book, I realized that most of the artistic direction was probably more Paul and perhaps Richard's doing. It would explain why Tim went onto doing very commercial stuff afterwards, while the other two went onto having careers with...and I hate to say this...credibility. Yes, I know. Tim was/is a talented performer but as he admitted it himself in this book, he wanted to be liked and to be famous. He wanted broad appeal.
The book is easy to read, as it is written with a lot of humour, which is amazing considering the man has to live with MS. (Put into the same situation, I doubt I could come across as even 'mildly amusing' at the best of times. ) If you are not Australian or at least British, you may struggle a bit with the book, as some of the language, phrases, etc may be hard to follow.
I found the stories of his DAAS days (esp Edinburgh) the most fun to read. But throughout his retelling of his life and career, he mentions odd tingling, numbness, etc., and how he tries to deny and ignore these medical clues. He did an amazing job of carrying on and hiding it though whether is was a good or bad thing that he did, is not for me to say. I have to admit though, that I was surprised that he did not confide with Paul and Richard about his illness when he decided to leave DAAS. He has spent so many years with them, and yet could not let them in on the truth, which was also affecting them?
The gaping holes in his story were frustrating. He never mentions marrying for the first time and only once mentions when he is a father for the first time and that he ends up having three children. Then there is a breakdown which he completely side steps, which I am guessing involved the end of his first mysterious marriage. There is no talk of his family (wife and children) and the affect his career and illness had on them. This is his book, and I guess he can put in and leave out what he wants, but for a reader, it a feels a bit disjointed.
It was heartening to read that he is still involved in comedy and is able to be productive, despite his medical challenges. That takes courage and determination, which is to be admired.
Now, onto the rest...I was at uni when DAAS were in their prime, and saw them perform live about 4 times. They were funny, they were smart and yes, they were often offensive. The humour was often dark and their politics were mixed. They were neither liberal nor conservative. 'Anarchists' was probably the closest label you could pin on them.
Tim was my favourite...but as I grew up, I realized I could relate more to Paul and after reading this book, I realized that most of the artistic direction was probably more Paul and perhaps Richard's doing. It would explain why Tim went onto doing very commercial stuff afterwards, while the other two went onto having careers with...and I hate to say this...credibility. Yes, I know. Tim was/is a talented performer but as he admitted it himself in this book, he wanted to be liked and to be famous. He wanted broad appeal.
The book is easy to read, as it is written with a lot of humour, which is amazing considering the man has to live with MS. (Put into the same situation, I doubt I could come across as even 'mildly amusing' at the best of times. ) If you are not Australian or at least British, you may struggle a bit with the book, as some of the language, phrases, etc may be hard to follow.
I found the stories of his DAAS days (esp Edinburgh) the most fun to read. But throughout his retelling of his life and career, he mentions odd tingling, numbness, etc., and how he tries to deny and ignore these medical clues. He did an amazing job of carrying on and hiding it though whether is was a good or bad thing that he did, is not for me to say. I have to admit though, that I was surprised that he did not confide with Paul and Richard about his illness when he decided to leave DAAS. He has spent so many years with them, and yet could not let them in on the truth, which was also affecting them?
The gaping holes in his story were frustrating. He never mentions marrying for the first time and only once mentions when he is a father for the first time and that he ends up having three children. Then there is a breakdown which he completely side steps, which I am guessing involved the end of his first mysterious marriage. There is no talk of his family (wife and children) and the affect his career and illness had on them. This is his book, and I guess he can put in and leave out what he wants, but for a reader, it a feels a bit disjointed.
It was heartening to read that he is still involved in comedy and is able to be productive, despite his medical challenges. That takes courage and determination, which is to be admired.
February 4, 2021
Amazing book, amazing man, I wish I could have even half the drive Tim has for life, very profound words in this book, really makes you wonder if you're getting the most out of your life as you can be.
October 25, 2013
Reading this book, you get a sense that Tim Ferguson couldn't decide whether to write a personal memoir or an observation with him having MS, and because of this the book sufffers. Whilst key moments are covered: early childhood, the formation and duration of DAAS and his post-DAAS career - much of these milestones seem to be only given lip service. I got a sense that there was much more to his story than what he included. Still, this gives you an insight into the man, his surrounding environment and what drives him - which I guess is all you can ask of a private person, writing their memoir.
January 20, 2019
Written in a readable, chatty style, with Tim's humour shining through. This book defines 'page turner'. The author's anger/frustration on certain topics, however, is evident toward the end of the book. He does not suffer fools, and at times is surrounded by them.
July 29, 2017
Hilarious, with a jarring dose of melancholy to even things out, proving that Tim truly does adhere to his endlessly fascinating comedy writing philosophies.
***
I don't usually enjoy autobiographies but this was a compelling read. I guess that's partly because I've had a crush on Tim since I was about sixteen. I loved the demented craziness and naughtiness of The Doug Anthony Allstars; the fun of 'Funky Squad' and his bright suits in 'Don't Forget your Toothbrush'. I particularly liked that he answered my fan mail. And nowadays he responds to my tweets! He just seems so nice. Outspoken, politically incorrect, fearless, yet kind-hearted.
His hilarious descriptions of his childhood kind of explain his friendliness - he attended nine schools due to his dad's ever-changing career moves, so Tim learned to appeal to people very quickly, sensing he had little time to lose. (I tend to love the 'childhood' section of autobiographies - I guess it's that part of life where the fame hasn't set in yet - they're mere mortals who are set for greatness but don't necessarily know it. And the bullies at school sure don't know it).
Reading about the DAAS days was also a treat and made me want a time machine so I could visit early eighties Canberra to see them in their early days of busking. (Some people use their time machine to witness the birth of Christ. I choose post-apocalyptic Canberra.)
Like every good story, Tim loses his way (via commercial network hell) but comes back stronger and more lovable than ever. He tries his hand at writing, directing and producing TV as well as hosting radio.
Although MS is a big part of the cover, it's not a big part of the story. Tim hid the condition for years, loathe not to ruin anyone's fun or attract pity. He speaks candidly about it, but he doesn't let it define him. He's bloody strong. And he just wants to savour life and keep busy - such a champion!
I must mention I love that he stood up for Denise Drysdale - I've always enjoyed her down to earth humour and she was a joy to have around when she used to help out at work. I worked in Caravan Insurance (I know. Funny right?) and she helped promote us at caravan shows and dinners. (She also threw herself at my husband as part of her act. I've never laughed so hard.) Anyway, I digress.
The book was great and I get particularly excited at the fact that Tim teaches comedy writing nowadays, and verbally abuses anyone who looks down on comedy or believes they can't learn how to write it. I can't wait to get my mitts on his comedy writing manual 'Cheeky Monkey' and I'd loooove to attend his classes. That'd be a dream come true!
Between DAAS touring again, the classes and his podcast with Maynard (oh and his Canadian wife), Tim is really showing MS who's boss! I'm so proud.
(Oh and I had to google 'felch' but not 'fluffer'! That means I'm 50% edgy).
Here's a quote from Mr Ferguson to finish: 'Id rather annoy people with optimism than cheer them with misery.' #carryabigstick #timferguson #bookreview
***
I don't usually enjoy autobiographies but this was a compelling read. I guess that's partly because I've had a crush on Tim since I was about sixteen. I loved the demented craziness and naughtiness of The Doug Anthony Allstars; the fun of 'Funky Squad' and his bright suits in 'Don't Forget your Toothbrush'. I particularly liked that he answered my fan mail. And nowadays he responds to my tweets! He just seems so nice. Outspoken, politically incorrect, fearless, yet kind-hearted.
His hilarious descriptions of his childhood kind of explain his friendliness - he attended nine schools due to his dad's ever-changing career moves, so Tim learned to appeal to people very quickly, sensing he had little time to lose. (I tend to love the 'childhood' section of autobiographies - I guess it's that part of life where the fame hasn't set in yet - they're mere mortals who are set for greatness but don't necessarily know it. And the bullies at school sure don't know it).
Reading about the DAAS days was also a treat and made me want a time machine so I could visit early eighties Canberra to see them in their early days of busking. (Some people use their time machine to witness the birth of Christ. I choose post-apocalyptic Canberra.)
Like every good story, Tim loses his way (via commercial network hell) but comes back stronger and more lovable than ever. He tries his hand at writing, directing and producing TV as well as hosting radio.
Although MS is a big part of the cover, it's not a big part of the story. Tim hid the condition for years, loathe not to ruin anyone's fun or attract pity. He speaks candidly about it, but he doesn't let it define him. He's bloody strong. And he just wants to savour life and keep busy - such a champion!
I must mention I love that he stood up for Denise Drysdale - I've always enjoyed her down to earth humour and she was a joy to have around when she used to help out at work. I worked in Caravan Insurance (I know. Funny right?) and she helped promote us at caravan shows and dinners. (She also threw herself at my husband as part of her act. I've never laughed so hard.) Anyway, I digress.
The book was great and I get particularly excited at the fact that Tim teaches comedy writing nowadays, and verbally abuses anyone who looks down on comedy or believes they can't learn how to write it. I can't wait to get my mitts on his comedy writing manual 'Cheeky Monkey' and I'd loooove to attend his classes. That'd be a dream come true!
Between DAAS touring again, the classes and his podcast with Maynard (oh and his Canadian wife), Tim is really showing MS who's boss! I'm so proud.
(Oh and I had to google 'felch' but not 'fluffer'! That means I'm 50% edgy).
Here's a quote from Mr Ferguson to finish: 'Id rather annoy people with optimism than cheer them with misery.' #carryabigstick #timferguson #bookreview
September 5, 2023
When DAAS were at their peak I was at uni doing an arts degree, back when arts degrees meant something. I remember clearly their subversive anarchist humor. I met the markers of their main fanbase demographic - a doc martin boot wearing, rebellious, card carrying union member studying sociology, philosophy, psychology and english literature...but I just didn't like them all that much. I don't exactly know why I thought they were trite, maybe I was just too cool for school? Anyway I did not follow their post DAAS careers beyond experiencing a grating annoyance in seeing Paul McDermott hosting a quiz show once (I don't watch much TV). I picked this book up out of a free pile outside of Gertrude & Alice last week. I thought it would be good to put in my street library then I noticed by the title that Tim had MS. I decided to read it as my own struggle with serious illness has given me insights and I hoped that Tim would share some of his.
Perhaps contrary to a lot of readers I was not as interested in the historical career part of the book (the bulk of it really). I kept reading as I wanted more on his experience of MS which was sparse but I understand his need to not let it define him. As he says at one point he wanted to define MS, not for it to define him. I get that. I really admire his "get on with it" attitude, his ability to power through and adapt when necessary. I took some heart from his tenacity.
The part I really enjoyed the most was right at the end where he found his gift in writing about and teaching comedy. I could really feel through his words his fierce love of comedy and his unshakeable belief in its vital importance in making the world a better place. I agree wholeheartedly. I love that he has been able to share his understanding of comedy (which seems enormous) with so many people. I understand how sometimes great illness turns life upside down and opens paths that were previously unseen or inaccessible. The world needs laughter now more than ever and it's good to know that people like Tim exist out there creating light in the darkness.
Perhaps contrary to a lot of readers I was not as interested in the historical career part of the book (the bulk of it really). I kept reading as I wanted more on his experience of MS which was sparse but I understand his need to not let it define him. As he says at one point he wanted to define MS, not for it to define him. I get that. I really admire his "get on with it" attitude, his ability to power through and adapt when necessary. I took some heart from his tenacity.
The part I really enjoyed the most was right at the end where he found his gift in writing about and teaching comedy. I could really feel through his words his fierce love of comedy and his unshakeable belief in its vital importance in making the world a better place. I agree wholeheartedly. I love that he has been able to share his understanding of comedy (which seems enormous) with so many people. I understand how sometimes great illness turns life upside down and opens paths that were previously unseen or inaccessible. The world needs laughter now more than ever and it's good to know that people like Tim exist out there creating light in the darkness.
December 29, 2013
There is no doubt that Tim Ferguson has had an interesting life. I realised that in discussion with him at an intensive workshop back in 2010. Just how interesting only really comes out in this autobiography. I knew that Doug Anthony All Stars were BIG but had no idea of just how widely they were performing outside Australia. And just how crazy. It is almost a case of you name a place, they played there, metaphorically pissing over the audience.
Not surprisingly, being diagnosed with MS is a big thing. And so it is with this autobiography, from the first ignored signs, on through the eventual diagnosis, keeping it secret until it could not be hidden any more. Even so, coming clean was still a big step.
This book is more than talking about DAAS and MS, but covers a lot of ground, revealing a lot of things about the subject, Tim Ferguson.
Not surprisingly, being diagnosed with MS is a big thing. And so it is with this autobiography, from the first ignored signs, on through the eventual diagnosis, keeping it secret until it could not be hidden any more. Even so, coming clean was still a big step.
This book is more than talking about DAAS and MS, but covers a lot of ground, revealing a lot of things about the subject, Tim Ferguson.
Read
October 7, 2013fantastic. Tim's accomplishments are much more than his DAAS days. Although his memoirs make mention of his MS, his life is so bundle with wonderful times and adventures that his MS takes a backseat. I followed his career with DAAS stringently but was unaware of most of the othe shows. Don't Forget Your Toothbrush rang a bell but I doubt I watched it. One line on the second to last page brought a tear to my eye, comedy and tragedy are intertwined. loved it.
April 21, 2014
Tim’s is such an interesting story and I loved reading about the early days of DAAS circa The Big Gig. However, I was a little disappointed by the latter half of his story; his reflections about parting from Channel 9 had a bit of a sense of entitlement to them. And to not mention family in an autobiography was a strange choice and his long declarations about not including them as mentions were annoying rather than endearing.
Read
December 26, 2014It doesn't seem fair for me to rate this book as I'm not a fan. It was alright.
June 20, 2014
Hmm. This book promised one thing and delivered another, I feel. Warning: much of what I am about to say is not flattering. If you are a Tim Ferguson fan, look away now.
The blurb makes it sound as if he would explain how he managed a career while living with MS. I was expecting an inspirational read that might help people with chronic illness feel a sense of hope that their lives could still be full and meaningful. The book did nothing of the sort. Ferguson is entitled to process his illness however he wants, but he is openly hostile to those who do not mange high flying careers while their bodies are packing it in. It's like he thinks it is a weakness of character. He's actually very dismissive of vulnerability and openness in many forms, which I found quite strange and off-putting in a comedian. He's kind of an asshole, actually. He reminds me of people who bully others and then accuse them of having no sense of humour when his victims don't find it funny. Yuck.
I think this book is probably more designed for hardcore DAAS fans who are interested in Ferguson's public self, and it should be marketed as such. That's fine, but it would have been better to say so on the blurb. He does talk about his MS, but only in a very limited way, maybe a few paragraphs in the entire book.
What he did write was that it was something to be hidden and ashamed about, and he spent much of the book hiding his MS, which I thought was an extremely yucky message to send out to people. Why should anyone have to hide who they are in order to be considered worthwhile? His internalised ableism really depressed me. It was like he was saying "look at me, I have MS, I hid it for years and I am a whopping success, so if you are not then you are a loser."
I was expecting something much more intimate. I found it very strange that he detailed plenty about his personal life before joining DAAS and then suddenly, nothing. He mentions his three kids in passing and that's about it. I get that he might want to protect his family's privacy, but he went into plenty of detail about his family of origin prior to that. I found it a bit strange. Ferguson doesn't mind doing and saying things for shock value but he is far from being an open book. There was something very pretentious, showy and arrogant about his retelling, something carefully scripted and dishonest. It made me feel like he had something to hide.
Maybe I am just generally suspicious about people who can not talk about their personal lives at all. Why the secrecy? Are they just so bad at relationships that they can't even talk about them? He doesn't have to air his dirty laundry, but it's like his whole identity was his public persona and that kind of gave me the willies. It reminded me of narcissus, madly in love with the illusion of his reflection in a pond, but with no sense of who he actually was. It was like his public image had eclipsed his identity. I guess fame does that to some people. It also seems to make some people too big for their boots, and I would put him in that category. For example, he tells his students, "you were wrong for most of your professional life until you met me." Wow.
Honestly, by the end of the book, I was getting a bit bored by his blow-by-blow accounts of his failed pilots and Star Wars collection, his wacky antics and his career moves, which he wrote about in excruciating detail. It just wasn't terribly interesting to me after a while. Maybe a die hard Tim Ferguson fan would find it interesting, but I thought it could have used a bit of red penning.
Maybe I just don't quite gel with his humour or something, I don't know. His jokes seemed a bit predictable and old hat. For example, he loves to take pot shots at really obvious targets, like hippies. Yes, they like tofu and goats milk. A zillion jokes have been made at their expense but Ferguson tells the jokes as if he is really cutting edge for doing so. He's a professional comedian, that stuff has been done to death, you know? Boring! Ok, I admit it. He annoyed the hell out of me. I'm not the first person who finds him annoying, and I won't be the last.
I found myself really beginning to dislike him towards the end of the book. I'm not a hard marker; I like most people. I found myself thinking he would be the kind of person I would cross the street to avoid. I think he's all showmanship and no substance. Or, I suspect that there is substance there but he is too cowardly to look at it, which to my mind is even worse.
Still, I read the book to the end and parts of it were entertaining. Would I recommend it? Only to diehard fans.
The blurb makes it sound as if he would explain how he managed a career while living with MS. I was expecting an inspirational read that might help people with chronic illness feel a sense of hope that their lives could still be full and meaningful. The book did nothing of the sort. Ferguson is entitled to process his illness however he wants, but he is openly hostile to those who do not mange high flying careers while their bodies are packing it in. It's like he thinks it is a weakness of character. He's actually very dismissive of vulnerability and openness in many forms, which I found quite strange and off-putting in a comedian. He's kind of an asshole, actually. He reminds me of people who bully others and then accuse them of having no sense of humour when his victims don't find it funny. Yuck.
I think this book is probably more designed for hardcore DAAS fans who are interested in Ferguson's public self, and it should be marketed as such. That's fine, but it would have been better to say so on the blurb. He does talk about his MS, but only in a very limited way, maybe a few paragraphs in the entire book.
What he did write was that it was something to be hidden and ashamed about, and he spent much of the book hiding his MS, which I thought was an extremely yucky message to send out to people. Why should anyone have to hide who they are in order to be considered worthwhile? His internalised ableism really depressed me. It was like he was saying "look at me, I have MS, I hid it for years and I am a whopping success, so if you are not then you are a loser."
I was expecting something much more intimate. I found it very strange that he detailed plenty about his personal life before joining DAAS and then suddenly, nothing. He mentions his three kids in passing and that's about it. I get that he might want to protect his family's privacy, but he went into plenty of detail about his family of origin prior to that. I found it a bit strange. Ferguson doesn't mind doing and saying things for shock value but he is far from being an open book. There was something very pretentious, showy and arrogant about his retelling, something carefully scripted and dishonest. It made me feel like he had something to hide.
Maybe I am just generally suspicious about people who can not talk about their personal lives at all. Why the secrecy? Are they just so bad at relationships that they can't even talk about them? He doesn't have to air his dirty laundry, but it's like his whole identity was his public persona and that kind of gave me the willies. It reminded me of narcissus, madly in love with the illusion of his reflection in a pond, but with no sense of who he actually was. It was like his public image had eclipsed his identity. I guess fame does that to some people. It also seems to make some people too big for their boots, and I would put him in that category. For example, he tells his students, "you were wrong for most of your professional life until you met me." Wow.
Honestly, by the end of the book, I was getting a bit bored by his blow-by-blow accounts of his failed pilots and Star Wars collection, his wacky antics and his career moves, which he wrote about in excruciating detail. It just wasn't terribly interesting to me after a while. Maybe a die hard Tim Ferguson fan would find it interesting, but I thought it could have used a bit of red penning.
Maybe I just don't quite gel with his humour or something, I don't know. His jokes seemed a bit predictable and old hat. For example, he loves to take pot shots at really obvious targets, like hippies. Yes, they like tofu and goats milk. A zillion jokes have been made at their expense but Ferguson tells the jokes as if he is really cutting edge for doing so. He's a professional comedian, that stuff has been done to death, you know? Boring! Ok, I admit it. He annoyed the hell out of me. I'm not the first person who finds him annoying, and I won't be the last.
I found myself really beginning to dislike him towards the end of the book. I'm not a hard marker; I like most people. I found myself thinking he would be the kind of person I would cross the street to avoid. I think he's all showmanship and no substance. Or, I suspect that there is substance there but he is too cowardly to look at it, which to my mind is even worse.
Still, I read the book to the end and parts of it were entertaining. Would I recommend it? Only to diehard fans.
August 31, 2016
tim Ferguson crashed onto the comedy scene as a member of the anarchic jokester boy band The Doug Anthony Allstars, with Canberra comrades Paul McDermott and Richard Fidler. DAAS combined political antagonism, philosophical reflection and dick jokes into a wild musical stage act that took the comedy scene by storm. Weekly appearances on the innovative ABC variety collision The Big Gig threw them into a more mainstream limelight, which was followed by successful international tours and an eclectic array of side projects, including comic art, books and a TV series. DAAS disbanded with little explanation, leaving many (including myself) presuming ‘artistic differences’ had simply kicked in. In reality, Ferguson had finally chosen to take the advice he’d been given several times over to slow down. After many years of curious tingling sensations, momentary black outs and other sinister clues, he had been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis and could no longer live in denial of its impact.
Carry a Big Stick follows the popular TV personality, comedian and writer through the 4 ‘Acts’ of his life so far; from Act 1 as a child through to Act 4 where our hero begins a new life coping with his diagnosis. Ferguson’s family life was almost as chaotic as his professional one, with several changes of school and locale due to his father’s own high flying media career. Ferguson writes with great poignancy of his pride in his parents and his relationship with his two brothers, one of whose death is given its own very touching chapter. While Ferguson seems happy to offer details about the senior Fergusons, he steers clear of discussing his partners and children (until his recent remarriage in Act 4) and only hints respectfully at the foibles of his famous amigos. There is no ‘warts and all’ gossip here, but there is plenty of fascinating behind-the-scenes insight into the TV industry, the developing Australian arts scene and the stand up comedy/festival circuit as it stood in the 80s/90s. Memories of Ferguson’s hit TV shows like Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush and Funky Squad are sure to raise a smile. DAAS made a game of creating tall stories about themselves for the media, making many other interviews or life histories of the band completely unreliable. Ferguson sets the record straight here (sometimes).
These days, Ferguson writes and lectures about the science of comedy writing. This is partly because he is older, wiser and passionate about the topic, but also because it is work he can do on good days and bad, from an office or at home, with a walking stick or a wheelchair as required. The book’s title refers, obviously, to the walking stick, but also gives a nod to Ferguson’s take-no-prisoners attitude to both his comedy stylings and his approach to discussing MS. He dedicates one chapter to the explanatory rant he would like to dispatch at the random medical advice or ‘what’s with the stick?’ queries that regularly come his way. He is highly knowledgeable about MS while being sensitive to the fact that the symptoms and outcomes are individual. After many years of trying to hide the disease, his now able to discuss it openly, but without allowing it to define him.
DAAS fed me with enough mad, dirty, chaotic belly laughs to see me through my 20s and they’ll forever be close to my heart. This enjoyable autobiography cements my respect for Ferguson as a writer and confirms that the show is not over by a long shot.
A longer review of this title can be found at http://thischarmingmum.com
Carry a Big Stick follows the popular TV personality, comedian and writer through the 4 ‘Acts’ of his life so far; from Act 1 as a child through to Act 4 where our hero begins a new life coping with his diagnosis. Ferguson’s family life was almost as chaotic as his professional one, with several changes of school and locale due to his father’s own high flying media career. Ferguson writes with great poignancy of his pride in his parents and his relationship with his two brothers, one of whose death is given its own very touching chapter. While Ferguson seems happy to offer details about the senior Fergusons, he steers clear of discussing his partners and children (until his recent remarriage in Act 4) and only hints respectfully at the foibles of his famous amigos. There is no ‘warts and all’ gossip here, but there is plenty of fascinating behind-the-scenes insight into the TV industry, the developing Australian arts scene and the stand up comedy/festival circuit as it stood in the 80s/90s. Memories of Ferguson’s hit TV shows like Don’t Forget Your Toothbrush and Funky Squad are sure to raise a smile. DAAS made a game of creating tall stories about themselves for the media, making many other interviews or life histories of the band completely unreliable. Ferguson sets the record straight here (sometimes).
These days, Ferguson writes and lectures about the science of comedy writing. This is partly because he is older, wiser and passionate about the topic, but also because it is work he can do on good days and bad, from an office or at home, with a walking stick or a wheelchair as required. The book’s title refers, obviously, to the walking stick, but also gives a nod to Ferguson’s take-no-prisoners attitude to both his comedy stylings and his approach to discussing MS. He dedicates one chapter to the explanatory rant he would like to dispatch at the random medical advice or ‘what’s with the stick?’ queries that regularly come his way. He is highly knowledgeable about MS while being sensitive to the fact that the symptoms and outcomes are individual. After many years of trying to hide the disease, his now able to discuss it openly, but without allowing it to define him.
DAAS fed me with enough mad, dirty, chaotic belly laughs to see me through my 20s and they’ll forever be close to my heart. This enjoyable autobiography cements my respect for Ferguson as a writer and confirms that the show is not over by a long shot.
A longer review of this title can be found at http://thischarmingmum.com
January 10, 2019
Interesting, funny (though not as funny as I'd expected/hoped), and eye-opening. It was an honour to read about his health challenges and his incredible attitude under such daunting circumstances, yet I'm left feeling dissatisfied, as if there were still a veneer. Overall, the book felt like it lacked authenticity--but then I guess that's our beloved Tim!
December 10, 2017
Well written although a bit confusing at times since the story weaves back and forth in time.
A great sense of comedy and pathos, to reveal the ups and downs of a comedian's life and how he deals with whatever life offers. There are gaps- it appears Ferguson may have been married twice since he talks about children but they do not feature in the current part of his life story, so this probably relates to the year he prefers to not talk about, which is his right as he is the author, yet I'm left wanting to know how he gets on with them and passes on life lessons just as his mother and father passed them on to him and his brothers.
A book of much laughter, many memories of the music and comedy scene of the 80's.
This book gives an honest down to earth report of what it's like to move from school to school, place to place and trying to fit in. Everyone faces challenges in life. How they are dealt with is what he points out is the significant thing.
Having heard Ferguson speak at the NDIS One Year On, it was easy to read the book and hear his voice recount tales of the DAAS exploits and development even though my only exposure to him prior to this was in the 'Don't forget your toothbrush' series. Paul and Good News Week, on the other hand, is a series I avidly watched. The DAAS seems like it may have been too violent and crude for me had I not been an avid viewer of Paul's GNW.
Tim recounts the varying reactions to his antics from diverse audiences - his family, school mates and teachers, from the Edinburgh Festival, England to Australia. Lessons learnt from live performances, tv and radio work combine to truly show a talented if complex, independent conflicted person. I'm curious why he never let his 2 DAAS mates in on his diagnosis (or twinge experiences) before he left Doug Anthony Allstars but I also completely understand wanting to be seen as himself, Tim, not a perspon labeled by a condition.
Ferguson's evolving career sees him become a teacher. His classes would be enlightening, tough, rewarding and humorous as a result of his relationships and experiences along the way. They'd also be honest and open where needed, if not always wanted, a significant testimony to his talent is the reporting of a number of students going on to do great things within a short period of him becoming an educator.
Just as he and the DAAS invested all of their being into their performances, Ferguson is clearly a teacher who invests much of himself into whatever he does. Yet, the fine line between keeping private things just that, private, and clarifying what's out in the public that is true or media fabricated is superbly dealt with and to be respected.
Perhaps a man before his time- Ferguson's 'candidacy' to politics would be received by many more people now. Ferguson is more than a man who carries a big stick. I'm waiting to see if more books follow - perhaps kids tales with the odd subtle message of enouragement to keep on when the going gets tough-just as Ferguson senior did.
A great sense of comedy and pathos, to reveal the ups and downs of a comedian's life and how he deals with whatever life offers. There are gaps- it appears Ferguson may have been married twice since he talks about children but they do not feature in the current part of his life story, so this probably relates to the year he prefers to not talk about, which is his right as he is the author, yet I'm left wanting to know how he gets on with them and passes on life lessons just as his mother and father passed them on to him and his brothers.
A book of much laughter, many memories of the music and comedy scene of the 80's.
This book gives an honest down to earth report of what it's like to move from school to school, place to place and trying to fit in. Everyone faces challenges in life. How they are dealt with is what he points out is the significant thing.
Having heard Ferguson speak at the NDIS One Year On, it was easy to read the book and hear his voice recount tales of the DAAS exploits and development even though my only exposure to him prior to this was in the 'Don't forget your toothbrush' series. Paul and Good News Week, on the other hand, is a series I avidly watched. The DAAS seems like it may have been too violent and crude for me had I not been an avid viewer of Paul's GNW.
Tim recounts the varying reactions to his antics from diverse audiences - his family, school mates and teachers, from the Edinburgh Festival, England to Australia. Lessons learnt from live performances, tv and radio work combine to truly show a talented if complex, independent conflicted person. I'm curious why he never let his 2 DAAS mates in on his diagnosis (or twinge experiences) before he left Doug Anthony Allstars but I also completely understand wanting to be seen as himself, Tim, not a perspon labeled by a condition.
Ferguson's evolving career sees him become a teacher. His classes would be enlightening, tough, rewarding and humorous as a result of his relationships and experiences along the way. They'd also be honest and open where needed, if not always wanted, a significant testimony to his talent is the reporting of a number of students going on to do great things within a short period of him becoming an educator.
Just as he and the DAAS invested all of their being into their performances, Ferguson is clearly a teacher who invests much of himself into whatever he does. Yet, the fine line between keeping private things just that, private, and clarifying what's out in the public that is true or media fabricated is superbly dealt with and to be respected.
Perhaps a man before his time- Ferguson's 'candidacy' to politics would be received by many more people now. Ferguson is more than a man who carries a big stick. I'm waiting to see if more books follow - perhaps kids tales with the odd subtle message of enouragement to keep on when the going gets tough-just as Ferguson senior did.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
June 9, 2014
An excellent biography on the life of Tim Ferguson and how he navigates life with handling everything from his school days, the meeting of Kerry Packer and his time with DAAS and their travels. He is a wise man who has plenty of experience in life and talks about how he went public with having MS after spending so many years hiding the condition, but not letting that slow him down while creating a career for himself and learning many techniques along the way that would end up with him teaching comedy in university as a lecturer. I had only heard of him from the Toothbrush shows on the TV and didnt know he had been part of the Allstars and several other things as well. Sure the shows maybe offensive to some, but I find his work to be funny. I highly recommend the book as you learn more about Tim and his cohorts as well.
February 18, 2015
I spent a hazy part of my formative years lost in a VHS spiral, watching and re-watching recordings of 'The Doug Anthony Allstars' - and I'm not ashamed to admit, I pulled quite a few people down that rabbit hole with me. We can all raise a glass to Krishna, and be glad that my DAAS crush took place before the Internet was a thing. As a result, I've always had a lot of time for Tim Ferguson & have enjoyed his autobiography. It was easy on the name-dropping, heavy on the DAAS flash-backs, and written with an intelligent comic design that took us from the early family farm to the current classroom. Tim characterises his MS as a driving force, and he has accomplished an annoying amount of stuff. Also, he's not afraid to slap you. "Comedy has been the cornerstone of my life and I'll slap any fool who insists there is a more noble pursuit." (p339)
May 10, 2017
Timothy Dorcen Langbene Ferguson is a sheer delight. He just seems to find the positive in every situation without being Pollyanna-ish or insincere, and that comes through in is writing. Tim has had a really interesting life - from his parents, his brothers, his schooling, his life with the Doug Anthony Allstars and then beyond, he has done things, been places and encountered people who are absolutely fascinating. Carry a Big Stick is an easy read - it flows beautifully and keeps you engaged the whole way - something that is deceptively difficult to do as a writing craft. And of course, makes you laugh, which is Tim's true gift to the world.
December 25, 2013
Would have liked to see more discussion of MS and the effects on Tim's life. I was pleased to see that he recognised MS as a blessing in that he has managed his career around MS (rather than having MS master him).
August 9, 2015
The almost complete, almost true story behind the Doug Anthony Allstars, their break-up, Tim's MS and latest career as a teacher of comedy writing. A fun, light-hearted read (mostly) & nice to be in his company for a while.
December 9, 2013
A good biography and funny to boot.
January 4, 2014
Loved it. Became a bit of an opinion peice toward the end but it was needed to cap the journey looking back on it.
January 10, 2014
very very funny
August 17, 2014
Amazing and inspirational :)
August 25, 2014
Top autobio from a bloke who writes with flair - Tim's innate comic timing translates well to the page.
October 31, 2014
I loved this book, it is one of my favourites!
It inspired me to keep going know matter how hard life may get and to always have fun
It inspired me to keep going know matter how hard life may get and to always have fun
December 22, 2014
Favourite quote:
I would rather annoy people with optimism than cheer them with misery.
Brilliant book
I would rather annoy people with optimism than cheer them with misery.
Brilliant book
July 8, 2017
Interesting life that Tim Ferguson has had. He is a comic genius who has gone from a famous comedian to someone with MS.
I recommend this to people who are fans of DAAS.
I recommend this to people who are fans of DAAS.
Read
February 21, 2017A great story! Enjoyed.
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