Not surprisingly, it was John who first brought it to my attention. The honorary professorship Steve Irwin received before his death would finally be presented to Terri Irwin, after a lecture on the research by Steve and Craig Franklin. John dogged me to go, but I turned him down. Surprised? I figured it would just be a rehash of Craig’s lecture, with the briefest glimpse of the Irwins before they were whisked away in a whirlwind of security and media.
I was half-right. However, the fact remained I had no ticket and I was too late to get one. So I shrugged my shoulders and resigned myself to try again next time I was in Oz. Just so happened fate was on my side. As I wandered around Goddard, unsuccessfully trying to find Professor Goldizen to suck up to her and trying to find a way to the roof of Goddard, I nearly ran smack into Dr. Franklin.
To be honest, the man didn’t seem so happy to see me. He had his lecture in under 2 hours, and here he had me following him around like a lost puppy for the second time. But, my patience was rewarded when he brusquely gave me a free ticket and shooed me out his office. Ka-ching!
An hour later, I made my way to the lecture theater, and knew I had made the right choice. Among four of the people waiting were John, his friend Jennie, croc man Richard, and Bob Irwin. As fun as it would’ve been to interrupt, I do have a shred of tact left. Instead, I amused myself by nagging Richard. And here’s where I discovered the secret: Everyone loves Fred.
Bring up that man, and suddenly Richard transforms to disinterested semi-celebrity to old chum, sharing stories of the old times, despite the fact that my “old times” with Fred was only about half an hour of conversation about a month ago. Armed with my new technique, I was ready to join the lecture.
As I said, I was half-right. As pleasant as Craig’s lecture was, it was a total rehash of his class lecture, albeit with cutesy animation. Then it was time for Terri to accept her award, which she did with requisite speech. I couldn’t tell if the self-admitted “frog in her throat” was due to a respiratory infection or being still choked up at the memory of Steve, over a year after her death. Despite the professional demeanor and brave face, we could see she was still desperately sad in his absence.
Afterwards, I warned John and Jennie to stay back. I’ve had experience with these kinds of public affairs in my role as a reporter, and your best bet is to wait. Most people will flood out, anxious for free food or expecting their guests to make a prompt appearance. In reality, they’ll hang back for press photos.
Terri Irwin and Craig Franklin were absorbed into a circle of important looking people. He was my opening. I sauntered up to Craig in a lull of his conversation with Terri, and congratulated him on the good performance, joking about the goofy animations. Those 20 seconds or so established my legitimacy in the circle, and it was no trouble to turn around and chat with Terri briefly, shaking her hand and making generalized positive statements about her book. Work the crowd. I walked away with a smug grin, as John looked on stunned, and Jennie looked intimidated by the whole affair.
Next up, Wes Mannion. He was chatting with the MP from the Glasshouse Mountains, where the zoo is located. Now, who’s the easier target? Again, I chose the non-celebrity. “Hey, aren’t you the MP from Glasshouse? How’s the election going?” I don’t remember what she said, nor do I care. Point was, I broke up her conversation with Wes. Then I turned to him and pulled out the ace.
“So, I was at the Zoo a few weeks back, and Graham was putting on a show. Afterwards, they held him back to fix his gate, and I had a little time to chat with him... How’s your ass?”
Graham, that infamous crocodile, attacked Wes one stormy night, and ripped off a large chunk of Wes’ upper leg. Got a nasty scar, apparently. But, Wes was a good Aussie bloke, and laughed at my question good naturedly. A short chat and a handshake later, two down.
Next, John Stainton, the producer of the Crocodile Hunter series. He’s a bit overweight, with fading red hair that may have been my shade back in the day. I walked up to him, pointed to his head, and simply asked “Are you secretly my real father?” Check.
Finally, there was Kelsey and Jodie. Kelsey is the curator of the zoo and Fred’s daughter. This one was easy. “Say, do you happen to know Fred?” with a knowing grin. Owner, Director, Producer, Curator. All that was left was Founder, Bob Irwin.
As the photos started rolling in, Bob tried to worm his way out of it. For all he did, he didn’t seem to like the limelight. So from the outside of the circle, I yelled at him like an old friend, “C’mon Bob, get in there! Don’t be shy!” He gave me a dirty look, and knew I had my foot in the door. But before then, I made sure that the new Vice Chancellor knew my name and face for when I want to come back. Just overhearing his wife was from Pennsylvania was plenty of ammo.
Before we left, I figured we should get photos. Again, John didn’t want to intrude, and Jennie was completely petrified to meet her hero. So I brushed them off, walked right through the crowd to the publicity-weary Terri, and asked her “Plenty of press photos, but can you take one with my friend over there who idolizes you?” Always appeal to narcissism. But you know what, I don’t think I struck that nerve. She gave a genuine smile, and said, “That’s what I’m here for. I’d love to.”
Just to add an extra layer of gloat on this, we roped John Stainton, Crocodile Hunter filmmaker, into taking our photo.
But hey, why stop with one? Walk up to Wes, put my hand on his shoulder (keep the chummy dynamic going), and use the same canned line.
However, it seemed we were too late to get Bob. The old man was long gone. But hey, maybe there was still free food left. We strolled out to the reception, where they graciously left the mini tarts last to be cleared up. I immediately started indulging, burning through 8 mini tarts before I realized I was standing right next to Bob.
“Hey Bob, try one of these tarts, they’re pretty good!”
To which he leaned in close to my ear and whispered, “Just between you and me… THEY SUCK!” Mission accomplished.
John, Jennie, and the mysterious German who slipped into our Terri photo quickly ran up and joined us as we began to pick Bob’s brain.
“Where did you discover the Irwin Turtle?”
“How did you find the Canopy Goanna?”
“Did you invent your croc catching techniques yourself?”
You get the general idea. Bob responded by picking up on our American accents, and telling us just how bad America was, and that we should all move to Queensland and become real men. We loved the stubborn old bushman immediately.
Fred and Bob may be the last of an old vanguard, the crusty old blokes who create zoos from scratch, catch the hugest reptiles on earth by hand, and keep us entertained for hours. All we’ve got to do is listen and watch.
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