I have decided I no longer wish to be listed in the annual Who's Who in Australia. I can't remember when I first agreed to be listed - possibly a rash decision of some 15 years back when I was younger and sillier. I have grown to despise such lists and I want out and I want out now.

Some people obviously consider inclusion as evidence that you've made it to the top, or at least somewhere up the ladder of success. But believe me, it is no great achievement. The Australian Who's Who is published annually by an outfit in Melbourne called Crown Content. No doubt it's a royalist hotbed with framed pictures of the Queen glaring down at her loyal list makers but, above all, it is probably a great money spinner for the clowns who prey on our fragile egos.

I copped an Order of Australia gong a few years ago for services to the arts. Nice compliment but rest assured it doesn't get you better restaurant tables, airline upgrades, tax relief or useful things like that.

I even have an AM, which is a notch up on most of the other gongs, but since I live in Sydney's east I see the darned things everywhere. It's nothing special when every second person has one on their lapel.

I stopped wearing mine for a while but over lunch with Gough and Margaret Whitlam the big fella chastised me, saying they really don't give out that many and I should wear mine proudly. I guess he should know since he's the one who booted out the royal counterpart and gave us the Aussie version. Mind you, he's got the bright gold AC version, which probably does guarantee better restaurant tables.

One of my most prized awards was given in 1989 when a mob called Citizens for Democracy declared me Republican of the Year. They were a left-wing group and early advocates for a republican Australia. I was really chuffed to receive their award because I joined a rather exclusive rebellious band including Manning Clarke, Donald Horne, Gough Whitlam and John Williamson and we didn't have to wear a badge to prove anything.

The Who's Who people have just sent me the forms to be registered again.

Not bloody likely! These jokers ask all manner of questions and, being a subversive type, I always attempted to offer my best. I was usually stumped over which "clubs and associations" I belonged to and could only call upon Groucho Marx's famous line of "not wanting to join any club that would take me as a member". The one that really got me laughing was the entry "work/life ethic' where they want some folksy homily. I was sorely tempted to contribute Lenny Lower's "blood is thicker than water. But then, so is soup". .

Who's Who is undoubtedly a prime cash cow as it offers the Whos an opportunity to purchase the finished bible. For a whopping $195 plus $10 post and insurance it's all yours. I've never bothered and to be perfectly honest I have never read a copy.
I imagine it's a step up from reading the Yellow Pages.

But here's the real catch. Once you are listed in the infernal thing it is tantamount to opening Pandora's mail box. The begging letters, special offers, club memberships and assorted junk mail arrive as if you were an Australia Post depot.

The worst offenders are the invitations to financial planning seminars. Obviously to be listed in Who's Who means that you are filthy rich and have nothing better to do with your time than attend seminars to help you get richer.

I don't know if you've ever tried to get off these seminar mailings but I can tell you it is virtually impossible. I tried writing. I tried telephoning. I next tried being vile, then vulgar, with "return to sender" plus "sod off" scribbled across my address.

I have given up and now simply throw them straight into the What's What bin. I don't want to be a who's who and am quite content being a who's not.