Bert Newton's funeral was on in the background on Friday,
State Funeral's fascinate me. Not so much the morbid nature of the day, but I rather enjoy the pomp and ceremony which comes from these events.
It was also the first pukka event we've had in ages. St Patrick's Cathedral, a mere two kilometres down the road, has been empty for eighteen months. I think the last time I saw inside a Melbourne Cathedral was in the 7.30 Report's recording of I Will Meet You In The Middle of the Air.
But it was good to witness a proper funeral. A complete requiem mass, witness the smells and bells and listen to real eulogies. Daniel Andrews, the Premier, spoke of Bert's career. I'm not sure what Eddie Maguire was there, other than having known Bert when he was head of Channel 9 for a while. He too, spoke well. Pete Smith, of Sale of the Century fame, read letters from Bert's children, Matthew and Lauren, the former unable to attend as he now lives in New York, the latter had her brood of kids to keep her eye on.
There were the musical interludes. They dredged up Silvie Paladino, who is normally only seen at Carols by Candlelight, and Anthony Callea. The former sang the National Anthem (at a funeral - why? Oh yeah, it was a state funeral) and Ave Maria. Pleasant musical interludes.
The Prime Minister sat with some of the Victorian dignitaries. Nobody looked overly comfortable in that section of the pews.
Then there was the full requiem mass. Bert, it appears, was a devout Catholic. As a workmate reminded me, he lived with his mother until he married at 35 years of age. A pretty Catholic thing to do back then. Bert was born in 1938. He was 83 when he passed. He'd been poorly for quite a while.
And although the funeral attendees were masked up, vaccinated and socially distanced, the cathedral felt like it had a bit of life in it. The crowd didn't look too sparce.
Things felt back to normal, for a bit. Although not everybody has their funeral service conducted by the Archbishop of Melbourne.
And after, we watched as Patti, Lauren, Matt and the grandkids rolled Bert's coffin down the aisle to the cathedral doors. Where pallbearers would have done this job once, lifing the box onto their shoulders, a trolley allowed the family to lead Bert to his final resting place. The family looked suitably distraught, as it should be.
A little while later, the family sprinkled the coffin with holy water and they got to say their final goodbyes.
It was a big kerfuffle for a man who lived a very full life, who everybody knew, and everybody could tell a story about. Bert Newton has been on television longer than I've been alive. I saw him and Patti at a gala I attended a few years ago. Back then, Bert looked frail. But ever the showman, he turned up and did his job.
Professional to the end.
I'm sure Bert will rest in peace. He deserved some quiet. It appears he's been tending to his six grandchildren of late after having a foot taken off. He needs the break.
My biggest takeaway from the broadcast? Things re getting back to normal. I know it was a sad day, but just to see people in a cathedral, attending a funeral, singing, hugging, living a human life like we did before this blood pandemic.
It's finally sunk in that things are maybe returning to normal.
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