Here it is:
Pushing Eighty: The life and times of Peter Holt
In 36 at Healsville Peter
Holt was born
Son of Merv and Evelyn and Merle's little brother
"He was always pinching me" she
told me once with scorn
A ratbag kid, once crowned
with a breadboard by his mother
The family moved around from Dixon North Fitzroy
Always on the run or on the
track
Growing up with cousin Danny suited
the boys
Til TB claimed the life of
brother Jack
Merv liked buying cars and
telling yarns
He worked as a bus conductor for
a while
Later on he had horses in the
barns
But a tractor selling farmer
cramped his style
Peter's youth was misspent
around Northcote
Lifelong mates were made in Brunswick
Rabbit shooting and a Royal
car salute
While a certain young lady
had her eyes set on the boy
Allan Davies and Peter often
shared a joke
about their little mate
Grimshaw
Each disowned the little
bloke
He's not my mate he's yours
Dad's told me many times how
fortunate you are
If you can claim three or
four lifelong friends
He found just that in Allan
Davies and Keith Grimshaw
Frank "Abo" Johnson
and Neil McQuinn.
Peter and Jacqui got married
in 1956
While he plied his trade
under cars and bonnets
Marriage can be harder than
winning gold at the Olympics
And theirs was no Shakespearean
sonnet
But it did produce some long
lasting blessing
Birchip is famous because
Alan Holt was born there
Birchip? Where's Birchip
you're no doubt asking
Just head north west
Vicki arrived in a soup can
two years on
Mark and Bruce followed soon
at PANCH
Settlement Road Bundoora was
our home
And Peter worked at the local
Goodyear branch
In 1966 the Holts took a
major step
Packed their bags and headed
for Geelong
As the newly appointed BP Rep
Peter's career was surely
moving on
No more Ron Barassi or Teddy
Whitten
We kids now barracked for Geelong
The footy bug had well and
truly bitten
With Polly and Wadey the Cats
looked mighty strong
Through BP he met a lot of
folk
Fergusons and Harwoods I
recall
But one name stands out no
joke
The Banfields were the
closest of them all
Late night chess games with
Al
Lorna's jokes and pranks
Both Mum and dad are lifelong
pals
For 50 years of memories we
give thanks
Saturday mornings playing golf
at Yarra Bend
Gold Cross Golf weekends were
nice
But Peter's swing caused
wonder to his friends
Uri Gellar had nothing on his
slice
In 1970 Peter and Jacqui
parted
A new life with Julie started
As proprietors of BP Cavendish Road
That's where a strange bloke
entered their gates
When I say that don't think
me a meanie
For years now they've been
best of mates
Cause everyone loves a mad
Greenie
We spent each Christmas up in
Queensland
But the floods in 74 had us
stranded
An extra week of holidays
unplanned
Til finally in WA we landed
A year of turmoil and family unrest
Resulted in me moving to live
with Dad
It was suggested that would
be the best
But I don't think I was
really all that bad
We lived in a little town
called Rosewood
Not far from Pa and Auntie
Ada's place
The Caltex servo provided the
livelihood
Hockey with frogs and Julie
the ping pong ace
Next was Gentle St Downs
Express Rubber Stamps and a
school bus run
One urgent Sunday morning
caused giggles and frowns
And solemn threats to the
kids they'd better keep mum
One holiday trip to Carnarvon
Gorge
saw us flooded in again
Until an enterprising farmer
we'll call George
used his tractor to pull us
across the drain
Three years was all that any
of us could stand
and in 78 I headed back to Perth
Dad and Julie sold up, bought
a 4WD and a caravan
and set off to explore the
best country on earth
Before they set off on their
trek round Australia
One sad event had touched the
whole Holt clan
Peter farewelled his Mum in
Nathalia
and we said goodbye to our
much loved Nan
Their travels took them from
one side to the other
From the top end to the bite
and the red centre too
Their journey rivalled the
Leyland Brothers
But it almost ended when they
climbed Uluru
Something strange happened as
they travelled the country
Was it the water or the air
or just getting rusty
Suddenly Pop's music taste
was nothing but country
Cranky Franky was gone and in
his place, Slim Dusty!
Years later when living at 74 Duke St
More tragic than the last
stand of Custer
Every year come rain snow or
sleet
Pop could be found at the big
Gympie Muster
After scouring the country on
a journey most thorough
Peter and Julie decided
they'd better settle down
So they bought a little farm
just outside Maryborough
Where they nearly went crazy
chasing sheep up and down
Life on the farm was pretty
terrific
But didn't quite make ends
meet
So they started to work for
Pacific
Taking school photos all over
the state
Then came the saddest part of
this tale
From which Peter still bears
the scars
What caused his second
marriage to fail?
After a road trip home from Big
Pa
Peter and Julie went their
own separate ways
And Dad felt lost for quite a
while
But the road that took him to
Tin Can Bay
Turned his life round and
brought back his smile
The people he met and the
friends he made then
Brought him out of his sad
depressed state
Like Margaret and Lyle and
Jackie and Ken
And wearing dresses with Albert
his mate
From Tin Can he moved to The
Palms with some friends
and lived there for a year or
two
When that good time came to
an end
He bought a Queenslander with
an aromatic view
Peter loves Marilyn Monroe
and has a soft spot for
cowboy John Wayne
He has all their movies on
video
and watches them over and
over again
A few years back I introduced
him
to a thing called blogging on
the net
HoltiesHouse became quite a
passion
As folks from all over the
world he met
He'd never been sick was
something Dad used to say
For years and years he was
totally well
Then he woke up one morning
to find with dismay
He was Facing a palsy called Bell
That was annoying and a bit
of a hassle
Because no-one had a cure or
an answer
But it soon took a back seat
as well
When Pop discovered he had
cancer
Bowel cancer was the shock
diagnosis
The family rallied to his
bedside
Radiation chemo and
operations
And a bag to carry at his
side
Dad breezed through all of
the treatment
at the end the doctors gave
the all clear
He knew one thing that that
meant
The value of having his
family near
If the mountain won't come to
Mohammed
Mohammed knows what must
be done
So Peter put Duke St
and bought a little house in Geelong
A monster garage sale soon
followed
Boxes and cartons were packed
After the last drop was
swallowed
Our hero once more hit the
track
Now he finds himself back in Geelong
Nearer to family and his
favourite girl
The only sad part of the
story
Was the loss of his beloved
Merle
For the last couple of years
when we've nattered
A phrase he's oft repeated is
"Matey
Take it easy, it just doesn't
matter
Don't you know that I'm
pushing eighty?"
One last mystery remains to
be told
And I tell it with a curious
bent
How come his name is Peter
Holt
And not Peter Mervyn Flint?
1 comment:
Beautifully written.
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