“I look at my role as being a friend of Canberra Hospital, I can bring some pleasure and happiness sometimes to people who are really in difficult times in their lives.”
With backing music from a Bluetooth speaker, Sayer croons his way around the cancer wards, making a human connection with everyone he comes across.
Canberra Region Cancer Centre Operations Manager Caroline McIntyre says Sayer’s visits are typically kept a surprise for patients and staff.
“He’s always come in so discreetly,” she says.
“Normally it’s just very quiet, he comes up in the back lift and says hello to literally everybody.
“Some of them are doing it tough, and to have a little bit of joy and light – it really gives them a lift.
“What makes me happy is to see people getting chemo on their feet dancing.”
Jamming with Jimi Hendrix, Countdown and the Troubadour
Originally a graphic designer by trade, English-born Leo Sayer rose to pop prominence in London in the late 1960s, as a singer-songwriter – and was soon adopted by Australia as an honorary son after his first tour here in 1974.
He went on to become an Australian citizen in 2009.
Sayer was a regular on ABC TV’s Countdown during the 70s and 80s, performing chart-toppers like “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”, “When I Need You”, “More Than I Could Say” and “Orchard Road”.
He blushingly admits they were wild days – when he didn’t always live up to his “good-guy” public persona.
“It was mad, I mean, Top of the Pops in England, Countdown over here,” he says.
“You were mobbed by the fans, I remember being dragged out of a limousine the first tour that I came here, and then speaking to crazy people like Molly Meldrum on TV and trying to sort of like take it all in.”
It seems hard to believe – the petite, well-spoken singer, with a mane of curly hair that inspired changing his name from Gerard to Leo – beating off mobs of screaming fangirls.
Sayer circulated in superstar company, becoming close friends with former Beatles George Harrison and Paul McCartney, collaborating with Roger Daltrey of The Who, and even sharing a sly cigarette or two with John Lennon and Yoko Ono who had a flat above his design studio.
“I met Jimi Hendrix right at the start of his career. I actually jammed with him, playing the harmonica, and him playing the guitar,” he says.
Recalling his 1975 opening night at the famous Troubadour Club in Los Angeles, he looked up to see an intimidating line-up of fans in the front row.
“It was David Bowie, Elton John, and ‘The Fonz’ [Henry Winkler].”
Alongside them: John Cleese, Mick Jagger, Bernie Taupin, and comedian Marty Feldman.
“We never thought it would last, we were adapting to things around us, writing songs about things that are around us,” he says.
“And we thought they were only for our generation — so the amazing thing is my music’s become like a fine wine, where you lay it down and years later, it becomes a collector’s item.
“We’re in an age where the music that I make, young kids are actually latching onto it now, and they’re finding that that generation and that style of music we made is as current now as anything.”
Sayer’s health battles, still spreading hope at 76
Leo Sayer says his hospital charity work caps off a career dedicated to providing joy through music.
“It’s a nice piece of synchronicity really, because I was born in the grounds of a hospital in Shoreham by Sea in Sussex, near Brighton in England,” Mr Sayer said.
“I suppose I’ve always felt comfortable in hospitals and being around hospitals.
“Growing up, my dad was a hospital engineer, Mum was a nurse, my sister was a matron.”
Sayer has health struggles of his own, including three stents in his heart, which help him have a genuine connection to the hospital patients he entertains.
“[My music] is providing something that isn’t taking away from any of the treatment that’s going on. It’s providing something that’s just putting a smile on peoples’ faces.
“Music is communication and that’s what this is all about, we’re communicating, we’re making people feel better.
“We’re not healing people with music, but we are making them feel better about their healing.
“To sell out Canberra Hospital will do me fine.”
An Arrogant Passenger Leaned Back and Smashed My Laptop – Karma Caught Up with Him Before I Could Respond
I’m a single dad and my world crumbled when an entitled passenger’s reclined seat crashed back, shattering the laptop that held my little daughter’s future. Helpless at 30,000 feet, I watched my hopes nosedive until karma stepped in, leaving the arrogant man speechless.
“Daddy, do you have to go?” my 6-year-old daughter Dolly’s whisper felt like a knife to my heart as her tiny fingers clutched my sleeve. I scooped her up in my arms, holding her close as the departure announcement echoed through the terminal. How could I explain that leaving her, even for a short business trip, felt like leaving a piece of my heart behind? 
“I’ll be back before you know it, princess,” I said, gently tapping her nose. “And guess what? I’m going to bring you back that Barbie playhouse you’ve been dreaming about.”
Her face lit up like a firework on the Fourth of July. “Really, Daddy? You promise?”
“Cross my heart,” I replied, drawing an X over my chest. As I walked away to board my plane, I heard her excited chatter with my mom, who’d come to babysit.
“Grandma, Daddy’s gonna get me a Barbie house!” Dolly’s excited voice faded into the bustle of the airport. And each step towards the gate felt heavier than the last.
Now, as I sat in my cramped economy seat as the plane took off, those words echoed in my ears. I couldn’t let her down. Not my little girl. Not after everything we’d been through.
The weight of responsibility felt like a heavy millstone around my neck.
This business trip to Miami wasn’t just about a presentation or a potential promotion. It was about securing a future for Dolly, about making sure I could afford the heart surgery she needed in just three short months.
I glanced at my watch and sighed. Three hours until landing. Three hours to finish the project that had been sitting on my laptop for days, neglected while I juggled my day job and caring for a sick Dolly. Thank God for my mom, stepping in to help when I needed it most.
I pulled out my laptop. It was company property, worth more than my monthly salary. With a heavy sigh, I started working on my presentation.
This was my shot at a promotion, a chance to finally get ahead and start saving for Dolly’s operation. Just three more months, and we’d be facing that mountain. But first, I had to climb this hill.
As I typed, my mind wandered to Dolly’s mom. Cancer took her three years ago, leaving me to raise our daughter alone. Some days, it felt like I was drowning. But then Dolly would smile, and suddenly I could breathe again.
“Sir, would you like a drink?” The flight attendant’s voice snapped me back to reality.
“Just water, please,” I replied, my eyes never leaving the screen. “Thank you.”
As she moved on, I overheard the man in front of me bark an order. “Hey! You there! I want red wine. Make it snappy, and it better be the good stuff… not that cheap swill you usually serve.”
I glanced up, catching sight of a man in a pristine white suit and a young woman giggling beside him. They looked like they were heading to a wedding… or maybe a fancy funeral for common decency.
The flight attendant, visibly flustered, hurried to comply. “Of course, sir. Right away.”
“And make sure it’s properly chilled this time!” he shouted after her, loud enough to make several passengers turn and stare.
Shaking my head, I dove back into my work. Just a few more tweaks and this presentation would sing.
Suddenly, without warning, the seat in front of me slammed backward. The tray table jerked violently, nearly smashing into my laptop screen.
“Hey!” I shouted, my heart racing as I quickly pulled my laptop back from the edge of the tray. “What are you doing?”
Mr. White Suit twisted around, his face brimming with entitlement and disdain. “What’s your problem, dude?”
“You almost broke my laptop! Could you please put your seat up a bit? I’m trying to work here.”
His face darkened, twisting into an ugly sneer. “Look at you, glued to your precious little screen like some pathetic office drone. Maybe if you knew how to work with your hands like a real man, you wouldn’t be whining about your stupid computer.”
I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. “Sir, I’m just asking for a little courtesy. This is important work.”
“Courtesy?” he spat. “I paid for this seat, and I’ll recline it as far as I damn well please. You want courtesy? Fly first class, you cheapskate!”
Before I could react, he slammed his seat back even further. This time, there was no avoiding it. The crack that followed might as well have been a gunshot.
I stared in horror at my laptop screen, now a spiderweb of shattered pixels. My project, my promotion, my daughter’s future — all of it GONE in an instant.
“Hey!” I shouted, tapping his shoulder. “You just broke my laptop!”
He turned, a smirk playing on his lips. “Aww, what a pity, shrimp. Guess you’ll have to learn how to fix things now! Maybe try turning it off and on again?” He let out a cruel laugh, his girlfriend joining in with a high-pitched giggle.
My vision went red. I saw Dolly’s face, her eyes wide with disappointment. “But Daddy, you promised…”
I stood up, fists clenched. “Listen, you entitled piece of—”
Suddenly, the seat in front of Mr. White Suit reclined with a thud.
His wine glass toppled, sending a cascade of red across his pristine suit. His phone clattered to the floor, the screen cracking on impact.
“What the—” he sputtered, jumping up. “You idiot! Look what you’ve done!”
The man in front turned around, confusion written across his face. “Excuse me?”
“Are you blind as well as stupid?” Mr. White Suit roared. “You ruined my suit! You broke my phone! Do you have any idea how much this outfit costs? It’s worth more than your entire wardrobe, you peasant!”
I sank back into my seat as a strange mix of satisfaction and guilt cloaked me.
Karma had stepped in where I couldn’t.
“Sir, please calm down,” a flight attendant intervened, hands raised placatingly.
“Calm down? Do you know who I am?” Mr. White Suit gestured wildly, wine dripping from his sleeve. “I could buy and sell this entire airline! I demand to speak to the pilot immediately!”
The flight attendant tried to reason with him. “Sir, the pilot is flying the plane. I’m sure we can—”
“I don’t want to hear your excuses!” he interrupted. “I want action! I want compensation! I want everyone on this miserable tin can to know that they’ve ruined my day!”
As the argument escalated, I quietly pulled out my phone. Thank God that I’d saved my presentation to my cloud drive. I might just be able to salvage this project after all.
Meanwhile, Mr. White Suit continued his tirade, his face turning as red as the wine staining his clothes.
“This is unacceptable! I’ve never been treated so poorly in my life! When my father hears about this he’ll—”
“Your father?” the man in front of him cut in. “How old are you, twelve? Grow up and take some responsibility for once in your life, dude!”
That was the last straw. Mr. White Suit lunged forward, his arms flailing.
In seconds, chaos erupted. Passengers jumped up to restrain him, while others shouted for the air marshal.
By the time we landed, Mr. White Suit had been moved to a different seat, his girlfriend looking mortified beside him. I caught his eye as we disembarked, and I swear I saw a flicker of shame there, quickly replaced by his usual sneer.
My boss was eagerly waving at me from the gate. “Dave! I got your message. What happened?”
I explained the situation, my heart racing. To my surprise, he just shook his head and chuckled.
“Sounds like quite the flight! Don’t worry about the laptop… we’ll get you a new one. Let’s focus on that presentation of yours.”
Relief flooded through me. “Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down.”
As we walked to the taxi stand, I pulled out my phone and dialed home.
“Daddy!” Dolly’s voice came through, bright as sunshine. “Did you get my Barbie house?”
I smiled, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. “Not yet, sweetheart. But I will. I promise.”
And this time, I knew I could keep that promise.
As Dolly chatted excitedly about all the things we’d do together once I returned home, I couldn’t help but think back to that fateful flight.
In a strange way, I almost felt grateful to Mr. White Suit. His awful behavior had reminded me of what really mattered in life.
It wasn’t about fancy suits or expensive gadgets. It wasn’t even about promotions or presentations. It was about the love in my daughter’s voice and the trust in her eyes when I made a promise. It was about working hard not for material things, but for the chance to see her smile and to give her the opportunities she deserved.
I’m relieved, happy, and awestruck by how karma works its magic… even at 30,000 feet in the air!
And who knows? Maybe somewhere out there, a certain rude passenger in a wine-stained white suit is reflecting on his behavior and learning to be a little kinder.
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