Bill Wiseman

The barman said he was two thirds Irish. I immediately imagined his mum had married two brothers from Roscommon and said that I agree in principle with Polyamoury but could not see it being a functional ongoing arrangement.
No my Mum was half Irish and Dad was full. Oh shit ya right sorry. Placing the Guinness in front of me. I gasped it past the G. Only too delighted to immerse myself in the low hum of the music of alcohol again.
The end of another year. The barman asked me when I arrived in Australia. 2003. I asked when he was born. 2005. Yep.
The older I get the more I get to see patterns of behaviour repeating. I've studied barstaff more than anything else except music.
Here endeth another year. They are so precious. This year, for me, brought a total engine rebuild. Life will pull you up through yourself until you see.
Or medicate. Up to you. I want to see. Then medicate. Then see. Then medicate. Then see. Then medicate.
Bill Wiseman passed away on Christmas day. Let me say enough and nothing.
The first I ever heard of Bill was I stood up after a session at Croatian Club and Marty said would I like to go to a party. No. No you do he said. Bill Wiseman will be playing. He's the only Irish Traditional musician that makes me cry for home.
When Marty cries for home you could cut it with a knife. I know that cake well. And so does every Irish person out here. The ones that have the heart to admit it anyway.
I didn't go to the party but fortune brought me around Bill very soon. Bill played the whiste.
Playing in the round next to Bill was to be next to a great master. He could find and lose the best of us but Bill was so very kind.
He was generous with his soul and knowledge. I have so many recordings he sent me of tunes he thought I needed to learn.
On one recording he says "HA! I think I've got it! This one is called Casey's Kitchen it's in D minor Ha!!! and I'll play it through three times because I like you  so.......just remember that".
It was my privilege to surf behind his wave of absolute perfection many many times. He was the silent teacher on the mountain. My proof of higher ways.
When Bill was alive he was the ace of the Newcastle Irish community. He never set foot in Ireland but he could open the portal.
If you had Bill then you had credibility and rub off respect. But he didn't care about petty small town politics. He just gave love and the finest purest music to ease the souls around him.
Slán abhaile Bill Wiseman. Thank you for giving us all permission to be big. May we grow to be kinder.