We had to be out of Station House by nine o'clock this morning to see the Boy Wonder - orthopaedic surgeon to the stars - and discuss Michael's troublesome left wrist. I thought the day had taken a definitely weird turn when some geezer knocked on our front door at eight-twenty and enquired when "the man" was going to attend the servo across the laneway from our house. Completely blank for a second or two, I then realised that the chap assumed we ran the workshop and fuel station that is actually Richard Jas' property...I regaled him of this fact and suggested he could get fuel from the Dome up the road. It was his turn to look confused but I firmly and politely closed the door on him.
We launched forward before nine and headed west. The weather was deteriorating and intermittent rain spattered on the windscreen. In spite of our best intentions, the traffic was dreadful and we were running late. My mood was not helped as we learned that Russell Woolf, ABC radio host extraordinaire and four years my junior had died suddenly during last night.
Although I had never met Rusty, I'd regarded him as everybody's big boofy brother. I had listened to him for years on the radio and loved his persona as the ABC News weatherman. Today, I discovered that like a true showman, if he couldn't blind them with brilliance, he'd baffle them with bullshit. He was always saved with a lack of preparation by his quick wit, his razor-sharp intelligence and an outstanding work ethic. He seemed interested in all and sundry and would find fun in the most mundane topics. Starting in radio in Esperance, he graduated to Kalgoorlie and Karratha before arriving in the Big Smoke. He performed in most timeslots with aplomb. My one regret is missing his latest gig - Breakfast on the wireless. I hope that the sublime Eoin Cameron is waiting for him to show him the ropes in the universe before they settle down to listening to music, engaging in lively conversation and indulging in a drink or two. They don't make them like Rusty and Eoin anymore...
Lately, I have rediscovered Richard Ashcroft, the Verve and "Bittersweet Symphony". The opening lyrics - "Cause it's a bittersweet symphony, that's life. Tryna make ends meet, you're a slave to money then you die..." His amazing song describes the despair that so many feel in their everyday life. As relevant now as in the late 1990s, we sometimes all struggle with limited income, juggling bills, putting enough food on the table and attempting to maintain a positive mindset. And although I have strongly identified with "Bittersweet Symphony" in the wake of Rusty's death, I doubt the man himself would have even been so pessimistic.
Following Rusty's passing, those who adored, admired or idolised him may find themselves in their own version of a bittersweet symphony. My heart goes out to his family, who will be dealing with an enormous emotional blast zone. I can only hope that we all learn to live with his absence and can remember those sweet recollections that even out the bitterness.
Tonight, I want to cuddle with my beloved Michael like I will never let him go. We seldom know when our own lives will come to the end, thus tonight, I want to send my love to my family, my friends and anybody who reads this post. Hold on tight to those we cherish.
Vale Russell Woolf.
The lyrics.
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