I was alerted early this morning by an SMS from an old friend, insisting I buy a copy of the Weekend Australian, I jokingly replied by saying, I had better things to do than spend my Saturday morning reading a Murdoch rag.
They were insistent, telling me I would have to go no further than the front page, on that basis, I thought it must be something earth shattering.
The front page was dominated by a photo of Rosie and you, sitting at home, perfectly poised behind large vases of blue and purple flowers, with a background of abstract art and a Grecian urn.
“From tin shed to harbourside mansion, family values never lost at the White house”
The headline and the photo almost said it all, but; I was heartened to read your three-level home came complete with its own lift, private jetty, pool and stunning views of the Harbor Bridge.
The rest of the article was pure hagiography and I don’t understand the purpose.
You and I used to joke about pieces like this, I would call and tell you what business was likely to crash and burn in the next few months. This was based purely on the printing of articles such as this one, more often than not, I was proved correct.
We would laugh at the accuracy of the “bullshit factor”
You though, are in no need of the publicity, but at least, you got the front page of the major National paper!
Brian, you have worked, planned and executed your triumph to a level very few people achieve and I am proud to have played my part in your success.
What was missing from the article was any acknowledgement of the work of so many people who were not family. Not necessarily myself; but people like Myffy and Andrew who have been with you for the very long haul.
Your belief in family and the development of your sons is something you can truly be proud of but the lack of recognition of those other people was a glaring omission.
I think I know you well enough, to know that you do nothing without a purpose, I look forward to the passing of time to understand the reason behind this very un- Brian like piece of puff.
Anyway, you don’t need the griping of an ex to tell you how to suck eggs, so I will close with simple words.
Well done and I wish you well.