Ladies and Gentlemen: This is a fairly long story, as when we’re dealing with Beres & Joy Smallwood, we’re talking about deceptively complex people.
The tale of Beres & Joy Smallwood, which I’m about to relate to you, IS true. Only the fibs have been embellished to exert the maximum amount of embarrassment on them for giving me the “honour” of proposing this toast.
Beres & Joy have been looking forward to and planning for the wedding of their daughter Roanne to Michael for a very long time. I can remember the time when Gail & I first met, or should I say discovered, Beres & Joy, about 7 or 8 years ago. We had finally decided to inspect our banana plantation at the back of the property. After some time, we hacked through to the back boundary, and, after breaching the last gap in the undergrowth, we were stunned to see the Lost World that opened up before us. A tiny settlement, replete with gardens of fruit and flowers, and lakes with interconnecting bridges and even a partly-completed Gazebo lay before us. I must confess that at first we mistook this latter edifice to be a Salvation Army bandstand, but once we got to know the inhabitants, we soon realised our mistake.
A pair of leprechauns popped up at the fence, and introduced themselves as Beres & Joy Smallwood refugees from the lowlands. They had pioneered their block some time before, and soon started talking to us about this wonderful creature who was their daughter Roanne. They also revealed to us their secret strategy for marrying her off – a secret which we can only now reveal, the marriage vows having today been exchanged. They used a modification of a technique which they had seen in an SBS documentary on what is called the “Cargo Cult” in the New Guinea Highlands. There, the locals had built an airstrip in the middle of nowhere, on the assumption that it would cause aircraft to drop magically out of the sky to land and unload free cargo. Using this approach, they decided to build the Gazebo as a ceremonial wedding platform for their daughter and thereby to invoke the spontaneous generation of this event.
Those of you who have visited their estate would no doubt have been impressed by this imposing monument – something like the gazebo you see here at Malcolm’s.
Their plan succeeded almost beyond their wildest dreams – as evidenced by the wedding you see today. The only hitch was caused by a defect in the aerodynamics of the Wooden Pelican, which they had suspended from the ceiling of the Gazebo with a length of fishing line. As you have seen, this resulted in the horse and buggy bringing them here to Malcolm’s gazebo instead. A minor error which no doubt will be rectified before any future wedding of their batchelor son Brenton. (I think they have plenty of time.)
I must digress here to tell you some of the story about how the Gazebo was built. I had previously mentioned their watching an SBS documentary. This in itself was no mean feat, as TV reception at their site was not good, and to make matters worse, they did not have electricity connected at the time. Beres solved this problem by harnessing Joy to a pedal-operated generator while she held up a length of galvanised water pipe as the antenna. Upon Beres’ willing shoulders fell the task of monitoring the reception and relaying instructions to Joy on the adjustments required. Many’s the time we would hear in the dead of night “Bit more to the right, Ivy” (that was his nickname for her), or “Higher, higher, make it snappy. We haven’t got all night!” (We think they were talking about the TV reception).
The Gazebo was constructed as a joint effort from logs felled and milled on site. Joy would snig the logs up the slope, with a 5-cwt chain and pulley kindly loaned to her by Beres for a nominal rental. Beres would then cut the logs into planks with his large circular saw, …again operated with pedal power supplied by Joy. Often we heard the call echoing through the scrub “Faster, Ive, faster –a man’s got enough work to do without sharpening the blades for you again this year!”
Ladies & gentleman, you can obviously see that the building of this Gazebo epitomised the highest ideals of marital arrangements then prevailing at the time, which the modern couple can only dare to aspire to. A high goal indeed have they set for Michael & Roanne.
Beres was so pleased with the outcome of his endeavours
that he continued apace with other projects, and poor Joy was at her wit’s
end dodging all of Beres’ erections (constructions) as she wandered
about the estate.
Alas, this golden age could not endure. Joy burnt her bra, joined Women’s Lib , asserted herself and now insists on a reward for her labours. This is to be a small boat moored in the lake. I can picture the idyllic scene now – Joy reclining at one end of the boat, one hand clasping a volume of Byron’s poetry (or is it Mills & Boon?) and the other trailing limply through the water, while Beres stands at the other end, punting through the overhanging willows, wearing a straw boater hat, an old striped school blazer and his favourite boxer shorts, all the while crooning “Sweet Adeline” to the accompaniment of a chorus of croaking cane toads.
In retrospect, I must confess some personal guilt at Beres’ hapless situation. I remember when we used to meet Beres & Joy at the back fence in the early days. I would often say, referring to his place, “Wouldn’t this (or that) be a great idea!” Beres’ eyes would glaze over, while Joy’s would light up like a Maleny Christmas Carnival. I eventually came to realise that I had been setting him up with the Labours of Hercules. So now when we meet, Beres and I conduct what I call an Irish conversation - when we talk, we keep our mouths shut – MUM'S THE WORD.
All Beres & I can hope for these days is for an afternoon, some day, at the “Conondale Pub”. For those of you unfamiliar with the Maleny area, the Conondale Pub is part of that mythological Australian landscape which also holds the Black Stump, the Bunyip and the GST-proof roast chook. One day, once Michael has made substantial progress in his marital apprenticeship, we hope to get him along too! Weather & Roanne permitting, of course.
Everyone please charge your glasses and join with me in toasting these fine people who have laid on this great reception for us in celebration of the wedding of Michael & Roanne.
Ladies & gentleman, to Beres & Joy!