For Dave’s anniversary (Feb 27), I’d like to share some of my own fondest and funniest memories and impressions.
My first impression of Dave was actually as a scary older brother of a school friend, who he dealt with roughly for sitting in his chair one day when I came over to play. Mel and I retaliated by sticking lumps of clay onto his skate ramp, which was probably cleared by the rain before he was even inclined to use it (especially since he had no idea what I was talking about when I inquired as to its vengeful effects, years later). But, take that, Dave! Yeah… You’ll know not to mess with us again, when we’re kids (?)
I next took note of Dave in the latter stage of his Goth phase, when he wore long hair, black nails and a KILT to school. Being that this followed Braveheart’s release, it might not have been such an odd look if we weren’t living in a small country town, where you get teased for doing, oh, I don’t know.. ANYTHING differently. Dave somehow carried it off, however, which only reinforces what I always tell my girlfriends: You can get away with wearing any dress you like, as long as you wear it with confidence.
I got to know the quintessential (backward cap, white tee wearing) Dave, however, as of 2001, when I first moved to Melbourne
Whilst Dave and I had little interaction on that first day, he did introduce me to my future husband who was visiting at the time, which is kinda important.
From his initial, “Welcome to my humble abode,” Dave made me feel right at home, even insisting I take my pick from his impressive collection of videos (remember those?) to watch in his room any time he was out. With such a considerate nature, it didn’t seem at all unusual then when he began calling by my bedroom in the evenings to simply sit on the bed with me, as sweetly as a girlfriend, and ask, How was uni? Was I settling in ok? Oh, and were there any boys I liked? I answered such seemingly innocent questions openly, never suspecting that my feelings for the hot guy at Taekwondo were all the while being directly reported to Dave’s best mate, Benjamin John! (That’s what he gets called when he’s in trouble.) Whilst my most intimate feelings were freely (and widely, for all we know!) dispensed, Ben had sworn Dave to secrecy over his own. Dave did such a good job that when he told my sister he had a friend who liked me (technically not breaking his vow..), Bec and I ran through who it could be, not once picking poor Ben!
When the secret finally was unveiled and I was still enamoured with martial arts boy, it was nevertheless sneaky Dave I looked to for advice. Expecting a run down of his mate’s selling points, Dave instead took a moment to consider his answer: “You know, Rose, Ben’s my friend, but so are you. And I say that until you make a decision, keep 'em both on a leash.” Ben and I obviously ended up getting married, so I guess I react well to reverse psychology!
Dave always took credit for getting us together and we liked to tease him and say we would’ve managed on our own. But he really did play a big part, he and Mads even chaperoning us on double dates when we were shy, young dickheads (leading to the inevitable creation of the unstoppable forces, Mave and Bosie), and for that I am eternally grateful.
Once, when Ben abandoned me for a spell (to visit his family, I think. What a jerk!), Dave and Mads invited me to intrude on their romantic picnic and scuba-diving. We went out to a quiet little beach on the Peninsula and broke Turkish bread over dip for our ‘nutritious’ pre-workout lunch. I was a bit nervous, as I’d never really gone scuba-diving and was also terrified of vicious sea-monsters (like seaweed), so Dave took my hand as we walked out, like a big brother.
It wasn’t the most amazing adventure (the water was choppy and all I really saw was murkiness [filled with killer seaweed though, no doubt..]), but it was a really lovely day and is a fond little memory of mine. It was also the day, after years of knowing me, that Dave and Mads discovered my hair is actually curly, being that it dried naturally back in the car. I remember their shock, as though they’d collected the wrong girl from the beach. “Uh-oh, we’re gonna be in the shit with Ben for losing Rosie!” Or rewarded? Not sure what they’d agreed upon, there.
One lonely Christmas eve, when I had somehow scored the job of staying at home to cat-sit (Ben was AGAIN visiting his family. What is that, twice in 5 years, now? They’re SO demanding), Dave came to the rescue and kept me company online. I asked what pressies he’d received for his recent birthday, and he raved on about this new fancy mouse that had replaced his old one and cost a fortune. Not ‘clicking’ at all, my mind went straight to a furry rodent, which was very confusing because, as I told him, “You have a mouse? I don’t even remember your OLD mouse! And why did it cost so much?”
This was met with a hearty, “HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!” (he really rubbed it in) and I immediately realised my mistake.
He did turn my misery to cheer with ease that night, though, even if the funniest moment was due to my idiocy (which is terribly surprising…).
Thanks to Dave, I now also can’t hear the title CSI Miami without laughing. We were playing Charades and Dave came up with this insanely intricate rhyme to help us guess the show. He was certain as hell we’d get it but instead ended up doubled over in laughter when Ben, Melody and I all looked at each other, confused, repeating, “Sea-breast-eye-my-fam-bee. See-breast-eye-my-fam-bee.. What does it all mean?!” Oh, Dave.. You wasted your brains on a pack of dumbasses, that day.
Dave was one of the most thoughtful, considerate men I’ve ever met. He used to ask how you were, as you do, but then follow it up with, “How are you, REALLY?” Ben and I used to repeat this privately in mockery, of course (heheheh), amused that he would overanalyse such a customary greeting, but I think it says a lot about his genuine nature; he wanted to mean everything he said.
He once told me that he liked the number 13 because it got a bad rap and was considered unlucky. He even cared about the feelings of a NUMBER, for Christsake! I don’t think you can top that in sweetness levels.
When such a bright force of life like Dave is yanked from the universe, you feel the void like a wrecking ball to the guts. But my life is so much richer because he was a part of it, and I am grateful to have had him for as long as we did.
