“Sod the wine, I want to suck on the writing. This man White is an instinctive writer, bloody rare to find one who actually pulls it off, as in still gets a meaning across with concision. Sharp arbitrage of speed and risk, closest thing I can think of to Cicero’s ‘motus continuum animi.’

Probably takes a drink or two to connect like that: he literally paints his senses on the page.”


DBC Pierre (Vernon God Little, Ludmila’s Broken English, Lights Out In Wonderland ... Winner: Booker prize; Whitbread prize; Bollinger Wodehouse Everyman prize; James Joyce Award from the Literary & Historical Society of University College Dublin)


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06 July 2014

DOUG LEHMANN, DRIVER, DRINKER, FRIEND

Margaret, Doug and Peter Lehmann drinking Barossa Semillon at the weighbridge ... note the photographs of the blue Buick submerging in the deep Central Australian flood mud behind Peter ... we got bogged between Bourke and Blatherskite ... this photo Milton Wordley

And now Doug's up and died

Doug Lehmann died suddenly of a heart attack last weekend,  just a few months older than me, and almost a year to the day since the death of his Dad, Peter. Doug was found dead on his kitchen floor after failing to arrive at his 40th wedding anniversary lunch on Sunday. Yesterday we had a great wake at the Old Redemption cellar at the Peter Lehmann winery. About a thousand folks gathered to drink in Doug's honour, with not a soul failing to observe that we'd been there on PL's behalf at the end of last July. It was freezing cold, and windy, which made it perfect for the consumption of vast amounts of very good red wine. After Doug and Ingrid's three offspring spoke tearfully about how much they loved and will miss their dad, there were some speeches about Doug's incredible job moving Peter Lehmann Wines from 40,000 cases to 900,000 in a few breathless years, but a lot more repetitive war stories about his skillful larrikin driving, his addiction to motorsport and the millions he raised for troubled kids through the Variety Club on its annual bush Bash, which he finally directed, having won it more times than any other driver..

photos(above and below) by Philip White

Johnny Guitar Preece photos: the pressing throng  inside the Old Redemption cellar, and trusty Lehmann ground crew, above, and fave DRINKSTER chef Libby Martin below (Festival Centre Bistro), with Doug's newest pride and joy toy: "Hey Charger!"
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More Johnny Guitar Preece photographs below: Whitey and Wolf Blass cuddle up while Wolfie's master winemaker, blender, right hand man and winner of four Jimmy Watson trophies, Johnny Glaetzer, stands typically in the background. John's Blass reds have won top red in the Royal Adelaide Wine Show at least what, ten times? A dozen? His motto? "No wood, good; no medals, no jobs." Below that is Sassy Beer's mum, paté magnate Maggie, with photographer Milton Wordley.
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Milton Wordley photographs below: it's obviously NOT a  Lehmann vehicle, this double-ended EH with directional uncertaincies ... not like Whitey channeling the Lehmanns with the 1928 Silver Jubilee Buick he shared with the savage PL in the 1988 Burke to Blatherskite Redex Variety Bash, which was mainly conducted in knee-deep mud, as can be seen in the weighbridge photographs behind PL in the photograph at the top ... Mick Anderson and Doug drove our back-up vehicle through those two weeks of desert downpour; their back-up vehicle had a hammer and a spanner in it, but was mostly laden with wine and beer ... that remarkable Buick has survived many Bashes ... and crashes, like when the author drove it straight up the arse of Paul Terry's late '30s Rolls Royce limo in the axle-deep mud half way between Tibooburra and Cameron's Corner ... you shoulda seen the white plaster bog that fell outa the bum of that Roller, to lie there looking very stark against the red-grey Centralian ooze ... "They ripped you off with this truck," the author told the disgusted Terry and his tuxedoed, Bolly-sodden crew as they tumbled out ... "Terrible pity that the news choppers were here hovering waiting for something t9 happen ... " At the time of his death, Doug had just had the Buick polished and schmicked up to go in again, but he also had a nagging suspicion he should prepare and drive that impeccable Dodge Charger instead.
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