Saw in an old thread from a few years ago the names Ian McCartney, and Peter Carter, and thought I'd share a poem that I heard read on ABC Radio by Ian 'Macca' McNamara back a few years now. Thought it was something we could all relate to!
It was credited to "McWallaby" who I've since found out is Ian McCartney himself (who is apparently still out at Winburndale, well into his 70s, swimming the dam daily to keep fit)
Ballad of a Snakeman
by McWallaby
To be a showground snake man
That’s what I want to be,
When just as a kid to the show I went
It was snakes I needed to see.
No knock-em downs
Or see blokes fight,
But watch the showground snake man
Accept the lethal bite.
When I told my oldies they said
‘You’ll end up dead or worse’,
That foolin’ round with poisonous snakes
Was just a rat-bag’s curse.
It’s when I caught my first one
I was feeling bloody good,
Until the bugger bit me
And I always knew it would.
My hand swelled up and I felt crook
And thought of what they said,
I felt that I was dying
And I wished that I was dead.
‘twas then my path was chosen
My career had just begun,
I became the village idiot
Catching snakes just for fun.
Then one day the invite
To come and do my bit,
Bring along your reptiles
And a sturdy canvas pit.
‘Roll up, roll up’ to the local show
You graziers and farmers,
Bring along the family
To see the reptile charmers.
They’ll educate your children
And give them all good tips,
On how to catch a taipan
And kiss it on the lips,
Blacks and Browns and Tigers
And copperhead Joe Blakes,
Shinglebacks and Bidjiwongs
And even trouser snakes.
They’re all here at the showground
You’ll gasp and take a breath,
To see the fearless snake man
In the pit of death.
To hold the deadly taipan
Feel the fierce within his hand,
It’s why the snake man does it
His high ‘twix God and man.
Freddy Fox, Rocky Vane
Worrell and George Cann,
And a tribute to Steve Erwin
The Croc’ and ‘Gator man.
We regard them now as masters
Legends you may say,
They’re not forgotten
But slid and slipped away.
Now there are the new guys
The sprooker and the talker,
Neville Burns, Stimson
And Brad Walker.
Some say they are crazy
Or maybe even madder,
To caress or stroke a dugite
To cuddle a death adder.
Some say they are wiser now
Or perhaps that they are smarter,
But the best of all, the best I know
Is the charmer, Peter Carter.
Pythons and Goannas
And every kind of snake,
He could charm the pants
Off a rusty, rusty rake.
Now I’m getting on in years
And I wobble just a bit,
I find it bloody harder
To climb into the pit.
Sometimes when I’m strolling
By river, creek or damn,
I see the rainbow serpent
Shining life and sleek.
I praise the lord for showing me
The opportunity that I take,
To thank him for the glory
And beauty, in a snake.
It was credited to "McWallaby" who I've since found out is Ian McCartney himself (who is apparently still out at Winburndale, well into his 70s, swimming the dam daily to keep fit)
Ballad of a Snakeman
by McWallaby
To be a showground snake man
That’s what I want to be,
When just as a kid to the show I went
It was snakes I needed to see.
No knock-em downs
Or see blokes fight,
But watch the showground snake man
Accept the lethal bite.
When I told my oldies they said
‘You’ll end up dead or worse’,
That foolin’ round with poisonous snakes
Was just a rat-bag’s curse.
It’s when I caught my first one
I was feeling bloody good,
Until the bugger bit me
And I always knew it would.
My hand swelled up and I felt crook
And thought of what they said,
I felt that I was dying
And I wished that I was dead.
‘twas then my path was chosen
My career had just begun,
I became the village idiot
Catching snakes just for fun.
Then one day the invite
To come and do my bit,
Bring along your reptiles
And a sturdy canvas pit.
‘Roll up, roll up’ to the local show
You graziers and farmers,
Bring along the family
To see the reptile charmers.
They’ll educate your children
And give them all good tips,
On how to catch a taipan
And kiss it on the lips,
Blacks and Browns and Tigers
And copperhead Joe Blakes,
Shinglebacks and Bidjiwongs
And even trouser snakes.
They’re all here at the showground
You’ll gasp and take a breath,
To see the fearless snake man
In the pit of death.
To hold the deadly taipan
Feel the fierce within his hand,
It’s why the snake man does it
His high ‘twix God and man.
Freddy Fox, Rocky Vane
Worrell and George Cann,
And a tribute to Steve Erwin
The Croc’ and ‘Gator man.
We regard them now as masters
Legends you may say,
They’re not forgotten
But slid and slipped away.
Now there are the new guys
The sprooker and the talker,
Neville Burns, Stimson
And Brad Walker.
Some say they are crazy
Or maybe even madder,
To caress or stroke a dugite
To cuddle a death adder.
Some say they are wiser now
Or perhaps that they are smarter,
But the best of all, the best I know
Is the charmer, Peter Carter.
Pythons and Goannas
And every kind of snake,
He could charm the pants
Off a rusty, rusty rake.
Now I’m getting on in years
And I wobble just a bit,
I find it bloody harder
To climb into the pit.
Sometimes when I’m strolling
By river, creek or damn,
I see the rainbow serpent
Shining life and sleek.
I praise the lord for showing me
The opportunity that I take,
To thank him for the glory
And beauty, in a snake.
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