“G’day, I’m Justin Heazlewood, the author of Dream Burnie. In grade twelve I was the co-president of the Hellyer College Student Representative Council. I won the vote through a fastidious campaign of jokes and Grug puns, the flagship of which was a poster I made using the blank side of one of my childhood Lamborghini posters. It read: This is a piece of toast. Vote for Phonze. ”

SRC Administration lieutenant Nick Flight and I were in charge of sourcing prizes for our inaugural karaoke event ‘Careyoke.’ It was named in honour of our respected and admired principal Carey McIver.

Justin Phonze Heazlewood, SRC President, 1998 — Justin “Phonze” Heazlewood, SRC President, 1998

We were academic scallywags, go-gettin’ hustlers, kind-hearted confidence men. We harnessed the occasion to go downtown and test the mettle of B-town. How generous was our business community, if we held a water pistol to its head? Did it possess the ability to climb aboard our crazy train of hijinks and pop-cultural shenaniganza?

These are questions every seventeen year old wants to know.

Does my hometown get my jokes?

If not, what’s its excuse?

>> HEY NICK, REMEMBER WHEN WE WENT AROUND EVERY BUSINESS IN BURNIE ASKING THEM TO DONATE PRIZES?

Answer: YEP! < <

This writer is pleased to announce, on its twenty-fifth-ish anniversary, that Burnie did seriously come through with the (All)goods. We loped up Cattley and Wilmot, feeding our shopping trolley like nineties-hipster Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn getting high on their own supply.

NICK FLIGHT RECOUNTS HIS MEMORIES OF THE DAY >>>

“We went round so many businesses and in between spent hours talking about girls, random crap and our dreams for the future. We were just teenagers, with a “borrowed” trolley, dressed in the fashion of the day which was sort of uncouth. I'm not sure if we had anything formal from the school to approach businesses.

The Salvation Army provided us with a wide array of items including a voucher. One of the items went to me (I still had it until recently) which was a collapsible copper colander.

There was the hairdresser who donated a bag of hair and the butcher who contributed fat offcuts. We also received several vouchers from different stores, movie tickets, a memorial coin from Australia Post and various items like posters, promotional temporary tattoos (Garfield and Spawn) and cards from [long-running video shop] Leisure Sales & Rentals.

There was the bathroom store that donated a toilet seat! [Yes, a brand new white toilet seat – our pride and joy.] And the trophy shop that gave us a sample trophy and stickers. Makes you realise ‘Burnie. We care.’ was not just a genius slogan but a way of life for these people.”

Nick asks me to remind him just how we got our treasure trove of trinkets back to school. Neither of us had a car. Did we really push a shopping trolley all the way up Mooreville Road?

Of course so…probably.

We were teenagers.

Beautiful, naïve and invincible.

The funny thing is, with a prelude like that, the actual ‘Careyoke’ event was a bit of a fizzer. Not many people showed up. Hardly any of our friends. More the fringe dwellers, nerds, music students and cool Christians. Alana Burt, Rebecca Woodhouse and Tim Oliver et al.

“To my memory the donations and the prizes far outweighed the actual number of participants,” remembers Nick. “There were a handful of ‘linkies’ [people who hung out in the linkway between blocks] and those that stayed at that hostel on site. People were entertained by us hosting and some singing and couldn’t believe we had enough fat offcuts to share with everyone.”

‘Careyoke’ wasn’t about the songs, it was about the prizes. A bag of hair. A Spawn tattoo. I stuck the tattoo on my neck and it was photographed by my girlfriend Jade Hallam and used as the cover of my debut album Birthmark.

“It's highly unlikely that a hairdresser would give away hair clippings now,” Nick reckons. “Considering privacy concerns and the potential for cloning and stalkers. Times have certainly changed, but I'm grateful that we had the opportunity to experience those simpler and more carefree days.”

(Is anyone willing to test this theory out?)

Nick and I uncovered the irreverent, playful, ‘can do’ spirit of Burnie. I can only imagine, like our memories, it’s still there somewhere, buried under dust, boxes and political correctness.

“Organising that karaoke night with you remains one of my happiest memories,” Nick says. “The laughter we shared, the bizarreness, our audacity to attempt it and the heartwarming moments we experienced together. Friendship (in the flesh), community, spontaneity and sobriety. A few of my best memories of that year were sober and many feature you my friend. ‘Careyoke’ will forever hold a special place in my heart. A rad place even.”

Friendship, the best prize of all.

A reward for generous spirits.