Hi Bob,

Guessed you guessed, I was an Eastern Time Anzac guest, just couldn't resist a stir...;)

Helen, if you catch up with THE Povah at Snalban, give him a big hug from me. Haven't seen him in a quarter century. Here's a poem I knocked up a couple of weeks back, after we'd finally made contact - Guess it's sort of ANZAC talk, he's Auzzie, I'm Kiwi, and we got in and out of a few scraps together...;^)

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Povah Blues
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I first met up with Povah in the year of '65,
Well, blow me days, I just found out the sod is still alive,
He's been outback for 15 years but now has come to town,
And praise the Lord he hasn't ever put his old gat down.

Frank me boy would sit on stage a singin' old time blues,
Never missed a single note, when fill to the gill with booze.
I've even see him fall off-stage - the crowd let out a roar,
For Povah finished off his lick, flat on his back on the floor.

Povah, Brock and Winnie sang at the "Bladder" and the Monde.
Others too would join in for Blues - verses a-la-ronde.
When they closed down we'd all troop off to a party at a flat,
And if the wine was getting low we'd whip around the hat.

Then, Frank and Brock went off to Oz, upon an old Greek tub,
The "Angelino Lauro" - hours late leavin' - here's the rub.
"Vino Gino!" brought the steward with a bottle up his coat.
Some of us only made it ashore upon the Pilot Boat.

I didn't see me old mate Frank from then to 74,
When, "calling" at a Dunedin dance, there was Povah by the door.
He'd come from Stewart Island, where old Ferndale had burned down.
So he'd packed his gat, and headed north just for a look around.

We had a grand night, and got quite tight, then went out for some supper.
We saw Dunedin Courthouse, and merrily scrambled up her.
A cop came along, didn't like our song, and made us come back down.
Said goodbye to Frank and went up the track to dear old Blenheim town.

Soon after that there came a knock upon my caravan door, There was Frank with gat on his back, wanting a bed on the floor.
He camped with me for a week or two, or maybe even three.
Only problem was I'd trip over him when I went out for a pee.

Then back to Dunedin Courthouse for an interview for a job.
With Magistrate John Murray, I had to button my gob.
A burst of raucous laughter in his office would be a sin.
I was looking out the window, that Frank and I'd looked in.

I got the job, and moved down south, unto Tautuku Bay,
Sang round the clubs a bit, 'til I came Stewart Island way.
Been out of folk for 15 years, but on one thing you can bank.
I'm practicing now, some day I'll play Blues again with me cobber Frank.

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He's talking about visiting NZ again. Alas, no whiskies, he's been on the wagon for years, he tells me...;(

Such is life - Sam