“Look, I could have stayed there much longer given the COVID rental laws, but I believe I left the property at an honorable time,” he reluctantly explains. “Yes, there was some rent due and you haven’t lived in one place for 10 years and don’t expect there to be any damage.”
Banned from practicing the law and having paid work as a writer largely drying up (Waterstreet published just one article in the past year about George Pell’s acquittal in Penthouse magazine), disgruntled landlords are just one of Waterstreet’s many concerns.
He underwent a double hip replacement in early November, around the same time that his landlord started legal proceedings.
“My landlord was not as sympathetic to my hip as I would have liked,” says Waterstreet, describing his initial recovery as “very painful”. But he is convinced that he will soon drop the last remaining crutch he uses to “jump” around town.
As for his current whereabouts, he informs PS that the new, slightly less healthy shelter is “a bed-sit in Darlinghurst … I’ve gone from a view of the Art Gallery of NSW, the Domain and the harbor to a view of a dingy avenue “.
But despite all this, he remains an optimist and tells PS that he helped write a new song Tim Freedman from The Whitlams about notorious professional criminal Bertie Kidd. Freedman premiered the six-minute song onstage at Angel Place this week.
Waterstreet also plans to reapply for his practice license once his bankruptcy ends in March, around the same time he hopes there will be a new filmmaker documentary. Ricardo Skaff about his life, humbly titled Waterstraat and currently in production will be ready for release.
The trailer for the film gives an unfiltered picture of the life of Waterstreet. In addition to scenes depicting his playboy lifestyle frolicking with naked women and swinging through courtrooms in sharp suits, he also reveals a more confused appearance and admits to being addicted to sleeping pills while the camera moans over a couch under a prescribed mountain. medicines.
His professional hiatus has also given him time to reflect on his colorful life, but with two memoirs already published and one in the works, along with his new documentary, one can only ask what he has left to discover about himself.
“I’ve learned how to cut my tongue,” he says, referring to the fallout from allegations of sexual harassment made to him three years ago. He denies the allegations.
“I’m terribly sorry to anyone who can take offense at what I meant to be a mood aside … I’m the last person to want to hurt someone,” he insists. “I really am a sheep in sheep’s clothing.”
Last drink in the Green Park
From the day Sydney pub baron Bruce Solomon took the keys to the Green Park Hotel in Darlinghurst in 1990, his gigantic neighbor St Vincent’s Hospital was eager to buy the quaint and historic hotel from him.
“It was a tough decision, this has really been a community cafe since we started it 30 years ago,” Solomon told PS this week after it was revealed that he had sold the beloved downtown hotel that was in need of cleaning. ale to a wide cross-section of customers for 127 years.
When Solomon first took over the Green Park Hotel, he admits it was “a bit of a derropub … I know that’s not politically correct to say, but it’s the truth.”
The former licensee, Ms Cook, was said to sell bowls of sherry over the bar and the hotel “was not very welcoming at all”.
“We’ve turned it into a welcoming pub. And not just for the gay community, but for the wider community living around here … the doctors and nurses at St. Vincent’s have frequented the pub. But since the exclusion laws, and more Recently COVID business hasn’t been the same. It’s been very quiet, especially for smaller locations … as a running business it was marginal. While I’m sentimental, I’m also a realist. “
Solomon, whose family has run pubs in Sydney for a century, told PS he was honoring a long-standing agreement with St Vincent’s to notify them first if he would sell. The hospital bought the site, reportedly $ 10 million, with plans to transform it into an outreach mental health center.
But with Darlinghurst littered with plenty of empty commercial space, critics of the sale have expressed disappointment with the purchase on social media.
“I truly believe the hospital is the best buyer possible, they will serve the community just like us, just not with alcohol,” said Solomon, who admitted he was well aware of how disappointed many of the hotel.
“The area has also changed, many of the younger people who would have come to the hotel have moved out of the area,” said Solomon, adding that his Solotel company still owns the Darlo Bar (where his father was 60 years old). licensee. from 1938) and the Kings Cross Hotel in the immediate vicinity.
“Having grown up in pubs all my life, I know how important they have been to communities,” assured Solomon PS.
Vale, Jeanne Little
Of all things Katie Little inherited from her late mother, Australian television icon Jeanne Little, who died on November 7 at the age of 82 after a long battle with dementia, what she cherishes most is the vast collection of costumes that Jeanne spent thousands of hours creating in her tiny Paddington sewing room.
‘There are pieces from both mum and dad (interior decorator Barry Little) in it, like a father’s company rug used in the bodice of a dress she patted, “Katie Little told PS.” I can’t tell you how many feathers, sequins, crystals, plastic bananas, and about anything else you can imagine in there. “
Little had offered the creations to the Powerhouse Museum when her mother moved into a nursing home years ago, but “the young man I spoke to had no idea who mother was … so I don’t think they were that interested in it.”
Jeanne Little was famous for her, from her famous coats with garbage bags to dresses made of toast, steel wool, toilet chains, milk bottle caps and $ 3,000 coins, as well as sausages, ice cream cones and hot chips made into hats. outrageous wardrobe.
“I donated her costumes from the Marlene Dietrich show at the Melbourne Performing Arts Center, but I’ve kept everything else, ” Little told PS after her mother’s touching memorial service on Wednesday. It was held at the Orpheum Theater in Cremorne, owned by Jeanne Little’s old friend, former host of the chat show Mike Walsh.
Singer Marcia Hines, former politician Bronwyn Bishop and ABC chair Scary Buttrose mingled with drag queens and showbiz folks showing up to pay their respects to Jeanne Little, though eyebrows were raised when it was revealed that Walsh was charging for the venue rent.
One of Little’s best friends, entertainer Maria Venuti, was also a special guest. Venuti continued to visit Little at her nursing home for years before suffering a massive stroke herself four years ago.
Venuti and Jeanne Little were regular stars The Mike Walsh Show, who often performed high camp routines for the lunchtime crowd dubbed the “blue flushing set,” and for which Jeanne made just $ 25 per segment.
As a result, they become household names across the country.
Jeanne Little joked about her first meeting with buxom Venuti: “I walked in and she said ‘you have to live on army food, everything you eat goes straight out’.”
To which her friend would reply: “Jeanne, you are the only person I have met with two backs.”
Start your day informed
Our Morning Edition newsletter is a curated guide to the most important and interesting stories, analysis and insights. Sign up for The Sydney Morning Heraldthe newsletter here, The ageis here, Brisbane Times‘here and WTodayis here.
Andrew Hornery is a Senior Journalist and Private Sydney Columnist for The Sydney Morning Herald.