Helvi Oosterman
Never fancied Bob Hawke, the man, I’m not talking about Bob the Prime Minister here. All those polyester pants and white shoes, and the hair, talk about staying stuck in the time warp…
The imitation put-on, Aussie accent and the rolling of the eyes…give me a break, anyone sharing my birthday should not have a mouth permanently parked at twenty past eight, and that whining voice, please!
Then enters Blanche, a good-looker of a girl, blond, blue-eyed, enviable cheekbones and mouthful of nice teeth; she not just a beauty, but she can write as well, and rather well, they say. I haven’t checked if it is so. Blanche and Bob fall in love, it is not just an affair; they do get married later on, so true love it must be.
Now Bob is Octogenarian and Blanche has reached her retirement age, 66. For some reason she is not happy to age naturally, or as they say, gracefully. To me it seems like she has been blessed with ‘she’ll- keep-her-looks’ gene. Blanche begs to differ though, she doesn’t believe it. She gets busy with Botox and takes even more drastic measures in her quest to stay ‘young’. This is not possible, she does not have to either; she is not an entertainer like our Kylie, who now looks younger than when she was still only one of our NEIGHBOURS.
Blanche is not someone who is battling to keep her job as a newsreader on Channel Ten, where the youth is the only currency. She’s also married to the much older Hawkie, and him being soo much in love, she’ll be his babe forever without having to look like a baby. Not being in the public eye anymore, (but sitting at home writing stories, some fact, some fiction, if we take Keating’s word for it), it might be time to pull on the old trackies, look dishevelled and get on with the real story, ageing.
The smooth ironed-out pics in last week’s SMH almost fooled me into believing that Blanche has been successful in her quest of eternal youth; the harsh lights in Kerry O’Brian’s studio told a different story. The permanent wide-eyed-look-of- wonder, the overly luscious lips, made me think it was Hawke who now looked younger, HIS face still expressive, eyes still rolling…Strangely the old boy Bob now appears as the more attractive one of those two.
Many of us feel sorry for Hazel. The gods have not been kind to her, first ‘Bob and Blanche’, and then her books, Alzheimer’s must have come to Hazel almost as a backhanded blessing…
Window Dresser's Arms, Pig & Whistle 
T2, you and Bard say it well…
Piglets where are your stories?
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I wonder whether Blanche’s decision to go under the knife came soon after a driver’s licence photo? The blasted things last five years. Next time I’m bringing my own lighting. Otherwise I reckon a plastic surgeon could find a worse place to set up offices than outside an RTA building.
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ROFL, Voice, we joined a club, and the little girl behind the desk took our photos; I looked at the picture then at the girl and I seriously felt like smacking her, she made me look like that deliberately…
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For some reason, the word “tawdry” comes to mind Gez.
I was / am a fan of Hazel. She has always sruck me as a woman of great compassion, generosity and integrity. When I read Sue Pieters-Hawkes book of Hazel’s descent into Alzheimers, I was curiously both saddened and grateful that some of the burden of my mother going on a similar journey had been lifted.
And the sweet irony is that FM bought me the Fraser book (in the to-do pile) – but neither of us would bother with Blanche’s Bobbio #1 or #2, for me as a child of the left particularly.
But if Keating produced a kick-and-tell, I’d be in there like a shot !
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I behave like a petulant child when I don’t like someone on UL, I tell them that I will not buy their book. I have said that to Savva and Ellis, and have also promised not to buy Blanche’s book.
As if anyone cares, still makes me feel good :), I’d buy Keating’s book though.
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Helvi, reading this post of yours made me feel particularly honoured… until you mentioned Keating!
😉
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Blanche looks like a blow up doll in that photo. Albeit on that has been left out in the sun for a bit.
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…and Bob looks like last night’s baked potato, an aspiring Liberace, or even like a seed potato that I forgot to plant (when I still had my vegie patch)… 🙂
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A dutch cream Helvi or perhaps a chat.
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When making arrangements to see a Sydney friend, whom we haven’t seen for a very long time because of her travels and our house moving, she joked about not being able to recognise us anymore.
” Think of Bob and Blanche, without Botox and Bob’s hairdo, was my reply.”
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Surely, a lovely looking couple.
The open mouthed Blanche, ready to pout and plunder. Bob, secure in the knowledge he has the viagra in his right pocket to give nature a helping hand. It’s the man’s version of Botox, isn’t it?
The raging erection for ever more. Is this what has driven us more than anything and now into old age and still it cuntinues?
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Was that last word a Freudian slip?
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…looks like H has stopped ‘mitigating and diluting’ already .
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Helvi, I think you better resume!
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Bob was a man with tremendous intellect and energies, with a swag of degrees. His great mistake was under-estimating Hazel who, in spite of little education was a great stateswoman, who managed to mitigate or dilute many of Bob’s faults.
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Big M, I was referring to Bob the man, not the politician. ( Gerard ‘s brother knew Hawke as a person, and he liked him.)
Bob liked to be liked, and I suppose Blanche liked him a lot :), I just wish Blanche would have liked Botox a teeny bit less.
Don’t we all, Mrs Big M included, mitigate and or dilute the faults of our men.
Well, I am working towards not diluting them in the future!
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Hah Ha, well said. Mrs M agrees!!
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I see, Helvi, you’d rather, ‘suffer those perils with which you are familiar, than fly to others of which you know not’, if I may paraphrase the Bard…
😉
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http://www.luvzbluez.com/purple.html
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Loved them all, Warrigal, but I’m definitely not ever going to eat three pounds of sausages. I’ll have one if I have to, but the rest will be piled on Gez’ plate. He can also have my share of chocolate, but will be happy to imbibe my half of a bottle of NZ Sav Blanc …
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