Beau could be stubborn too and if he became entrenched with an idea, to extricate him from that viewpoint was like ripping a rusty nail from a bit of lumber – and that is very very difficult…..and the corollary to that was his warmth and capacity which were just remarkable. It’s before woke world. That’s your opinion. And I have my opinion. My opinion is instead of showing a repeat of some boring network show, maybe a few people would like to see Playboy bunnies doing go-go dancing in the Playboy Mansion with five or six fantastic bands playing. Call me crazy, but that would have been more of an attention-getter for the audience than some terrible network TV show. So I disagree with you, obviously.” When I think of Dzia Dzia, I think of what a generous, loveable and unself-consciously quirky person he was. And to be honest, it's always been hard to reconcile the guy that evaded the Nazis for 5 years, but was barely able to change a light-bulb, let alone a tyre.

Kate : Very easy to confuse the two. Sometimes people can actually end up talking out of their arse, Alan. Alan : Lynn, five minutes ago you were my PA and now you’re inviting me to some sort of religious wet T-shirt competition. Art students to me are awful human beings. Not only are they insufferably pretentious but they usually end up working in McDonalds for the rest of their lives and are the sort who'd willingly spit in your burger because they think they are better than everyone else. I know this, because I WAS an art student. On the news recently - incidents of self-harming are on the up. You whining cunts, either kill yourselves or don't. I'll give you a machete and if you haven't the balls to do the job properly, I'll open a can of whoopass in the time it takes you to say "like" for the thousandth time that day. Alan : Yeah, that’s sort of a development of what he said, isn’t it? But, you know, again, fine to join in. Carl, do you want to add anything about Lynn’s shoe covers? Perhaps say that they’re like a marquee for toes, or a foot tent, something like that?We never wanted for anything but his true passion was always entertainment.... Dad loved people and people loved Dad. He loved to entertain, or show off if you like. He was incredibly skilled at what he did and had many strings to his bow. So mum would shuffle him off so she could prepare the ingredients for the Fondue or Beef Stroganoff, and dad would repair to the bottom of the linen closet and select the wines for the night. This process could last so long, you would have sworn he was in the toilet. He’d consult his wine magazines, scrapbook journals and then light his pinot infused candle at his James Halliday Altar before lining up the selection for the evening on the ‘buffet’ and begin to decant. The selection would then be logged in their dinner party journal along with mum’s menu and the list of guests, a virgin would be sacrificed, preferably from Bordeaux or Burgundy … and then they'd bring out the cheese board. Tessa : Yes. Let’s see if we can smooth things over with a little bit more from Monteverdi’s “Vespers”. Ok, so i see that didn’t quite hit the mark. Then my brother Craig sent me a “how to write a eulogy” document.... Here it is (hold up document and then throw it over shoulder) ....... Whatever you called him, you loved him. We often pump up the tyres of the recently deceased but much like mum, that isn’t necessary with dad. He was universally loved and admired. Our family have been inundated with messages this week from so many disparate sources commenting on how dad had touched their lives from our friends, ex-students, winemakers, teaching colleagues the managers at Bundoora Retirement Village, winemakers … actually mainly winemakers … Even the Ararat Police Station gave us a call.

Dad wasn’t really an animal person although we must’ve worn him down at some point in the mid 70’s because he agreed to a family cat, Whiskers. Whiks was supposed to be an outside cat, but Mum and I had a pretty loose interpretation of outside, particularly in winter. So, our evening routine would be: dinner on the stove, the pair of us seated on the couch with Whiskers asleep on our laps, Dr Who on the telly. At the sound of the key in the front door I’d leap up, race to the sliding doors and toss the cat out then act like nothing happened. Whiskers would still be airborne when Dad put his keys down on the Laminex bench. He was always onto us though – maybe it was the fresh claw marks in my forearms. Dad never said anything, although he would level an occasional frown of disappointment at us both. (Mum and I tended gang up on Dad). It was a good thing when Em finally came along – she tended to take his side which evened the ledger. I think of Dzia Dzia's massive repertoire of jokes. A couple stand out, but not as much as Babcia's immortal observation: "with these jokes you can hang yourself." Alan : Oh! No! That’s interesting isn’t it. I didn’t know who you are, and yet I still got in with you. Oh, I forgot to say. I am soooo a Christian.I was seated a few seats from him on the dais, and in the room were all the athletes in their individual sports, great ones: Gino Marchetti of the Baltimore Colts, Franco Harris of the Steelers, Archie Griffin who had won the Heisman from Ohio State, literary legends — Neil Simon, George Plimpton — all in a daze fawning over Ali, who then looked at me with an expression that seemed to say, “What is Joel Grey doing here?” What wonderful recollections and memories Andrea and Jen. Only loving sisters could imbue a delivery with such intimacy and warmth. Beau adored you both so much. Thank you both for sharing moments together with him.