Asher turns on the heat

Steve Kendall | Bendigo Weekly | 13-Oct-2011 9.30am

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Steve's head was in the clouds after a brush with his favourite TV star.
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IT doesn’t happen often, but I was star-struck on Sunday.

I have openly ridiculed the fascination some people have with stars of AFL, fawning around them as if they were gods rather than sportsmen, but I think I can understand the feeling now.

There I was tucking into my Sunday treat of breakfast eggs in a Kyneton cafe and the long-suffering Mrs Kendall uttered the amazing sentence: “I think Asher Keddie is behind you.” 

My heart leapt a beat, as I cautiously turned. Then I heard the voice, it was Asher all right. There in all her blonde loveliness. A vision in a beautiful green outfit.

Slighter than I imagined, but more stunning in real life.

I had that remarkable feeling of butterflies, went hot and had a rush to the head. I was also speechless, a rare thing nowadays let me tell you.

I was on safe ground here, Mrs K knows I have a thing about Miss Keddie.

She allowed me to look without a thump to pull me back in line.

It seems I had been sitting near to the Asher goddess for a while, but Mrs K had not mentioned it.

Probably a good thing, knowledge of close proximity for too long could have been detrimental to my health.

It was the briefest of passings, I did not utter a word to her, but it was magic.

Asher left in a swish of long blonde hair, and my heart retuned to a near-normal beat.

Mrs K was wildly amused as I drove off oblivious to where I was going, in a part daze.

“Quite made your day,” she said, as I missed another turning.

When I was able to think about it calmly, I was quite interested in the impact.

Here was a woman who I had watched for hours in Love My Way, Offspring and Paper Giants but had no idea who she was as a person.

How can I be that impressed?

Last time I suffered that feeling over an unknown was when I was 16.

Many moons ago.

I was clutching an LP record and in line to meet my musical hero of the day, Kate Bush.

To my eternal shame I was mostly speechless as I met Miss Bush.

She started to sign my album cover only to halt as the pen failed.

So, tongue-tied Steve’s only line to Kate was: “The ball’s jammed.”

Kate’s reply was just as stunning. “It’s the lacquer.”

There I was clutching my signed album cursing my lack of ability.

Ever since I have put it down to my tender years, but I reckon if I had been forced into conversation with goddess Asher I would have been stumbling verbally in a similar way.

Thirty-four years on and still nervous around women.

But Asher is in a starzone all of her own.

On Sunday night I went to bed, and I dreamt of Asher. Now, it sounds like a movie plotline but it’s true.

For some reason she was sitting in my mum’s lounge room and someone was interviewing her.

I hunted out my notepad, pushed in and sat down next to her. 

I asked if I could have a word.

But she’d just finished an interview and didn’t want to do any more.

Never, mind I was just happy to look... and dream.


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