28 November 2015, Arc One Gallery at Cumulus Inc, Melbourne, Australia

Amy appeared through the Minimax automatic doors like a vision, in Scanlan & Theodore and Patrick Cox, and in her ponytail was a flower from the garden at Tregenna Court. Somewhere between the Portmeirion soup tureens and Reidel claret glasses we became fast friends.

We gigged our way through Saturdays in those pre-mobile phone, still living at home halcyon days, where I got to know to Ames’ adoring parents Ann & Michael, and enjoyed a chin wag with Phil, Jake or Macca - whoever happened to answer the phone.

I was in awe of my new friend … she had a full week of lectures (I had 5 contact hours, but watching films was on top of that). YET Amy had time to be at Minimax, was comprehensively across local and international issues, swam laps without stopping at the end of the lane, could tell you her picks for the weekend given Hocking’s recent hamstring, was rapidly adding vocab to her strengthening Italian, and was half-way through reading ‘A Suitable Boy’. She was unlike anyone I’d met, and it wasn’t long after meeting Amy that I rushed into the Piercing Urge to get a matching belly-button ring, and took stroke correction classes at Nth Fitzoy pool.

I wondered if Amy was perfect. I’m ashamed to say it gave me a small, tiny pleasure to learn - for instance - that Amy has one leg an inch shorter than the other. It’s true! I’ve borrowed her pants before and it was like ‘am I wearing capris or bell-bottoms here?’ She also has a bladder the size of a small birds.

Amy introduced me to Triple J, tofu, the power nap, eating tomato on toast with vegemite, shabbat, and g-strings. I wouldn’t say most of those are still in my life, but I do think of her still when I have vegemite on toast with tomato.

Amy is the kind of uber-girl, who is as comfortable meeting the Thai Royal Family, as she is in a pride of Cats supporters at Kardinia Park. Or shmoozing with A-listers like Geoffrey Rush who demanded that she be his proctologist. Which is just disgusting. But an indication on the effect this woman has.

Once we were mistaken for a lesbian couple, and I remember feeling incredibly proud that they thought I could pull someone like Amy.

Delightfully full of contractions, Amy is the scientist who loves going to the theatre, the home-body who loves to live overseas, and is the fashionista who was wearing Ugg boots long long before they were on trend.

In those early days, I also learnt that Amy has a passport and she wasn’t afraid to use it. My very first trip to America was joining Amy & Leila half-way through their drive across the country. Since then, we have walked arm in arm through the cobbled streets of Bath, and been dumped buy surf in more than one ocean. I have seen that smile on the back of a vespa in Paris at midnight, watched those toes dancing on a window sill in Manhattan, and marveled as those shoulders butterflied across Lake Como. (We have also shared some beautiful moments in Launceston and Albury, but it doesn't quite sound the same.)

I just always assumed that Amy would go on to be a complete star ophthalmologist, study at the best eye hospital in the world, marry a dashingly handsome man, and become a wonderful mum to 3 beautiful children, but that’s not to say that it wasn't hard hard yakka, and that there weren’t setbacks along the way, which she overcame with determination and grace. (One setback was when aged 13 it dawned on Amy that she would never compete at an Olympics.)

She's a star, that's for sure. And to conclude, aren't we the lucky ones to be sharing tonight with our beautiful friend.

Happy Birthday Amy!

23 March 2013, Melbourne, Australia

Thank you all for coming. And for getting into the theme -- 'It used to be cool'.. There are only 12 Tom Cruises here, and no other Maverick in the suit, so thank you to whoever coordinated that.

We were unsure for a long time if we wanted to have a 40th – until 7:25pm tonight, to be precise. But looking around the room now, it seems so obvious to me why we decided to do this. And it is you. We are so busy, all of us, and there is never enough time to spend with each other. But you mean the world to us, and this is a special time for us. Thank you for coming.

So I can say with absolute certainty now that we are over the moon to be having a party for our 40th - and not, say, what many of you have done and gone overseas, business class, without the kids, staying in a beautiful hotel. You bastards.

There are some people who deserve special mention. …

To our parents, thank you for having us and for everything you have done since. My family is the small, quiet and stoic type. Caroline’s family is the large, loud and complaining type. But somehow we all get along, and there is never a shortage of laughter. We could not wish for better parents and families.

Laini and Paul have come down from Sydney. A group of us went up to Sydney for Laini’s 40th last December and ever since they have had to come down to Melbourne on consecutive weekends. Thank you. It is always better when you are here.

Cam and Louise had to cancel their 40th at the last minute last weekend. We are sharing this one with you guys, and we hope this night feels a bit like it’s your celebration too. And, if it does Cam, maybe we could have a chat about defraying some of the costs?

There’s the Run For The Kids in the morning, and many of you here will be doing the run and raising money for the Royal Childrens’ Hospital. Thank you for being here. I did it last year and I know what it means to be out the night before the race. If it’s any assistance, I can say from my own experience that running with a gutful of beer and Mexican food can dramatically improve your running performance. But only for the first 70 metres. So, to help you get through the rest of the race, what I have decided to do is donate $1 to RCH for every alcoholic drink you consume after 10pm. Which means that if you don’t drink, you will be denying sick children important medical equipment.

To my barrister friends from Joan Rosanove Chambers. In case you don’t recognise them, they are the older people handing out business cards … and their younger, good looking partners. There are very few people who can say they work every day in a professional environment of the highest calibre. I envy those people. In all seriousness, without the support and friendship of everyone on the 4th floor - and Matt, Rodney and James, in particular - life at the Bar would be a vastly different and inferior experience.

And the kids. Daisy has gone to bed, but Amelie and Carter are here. Mum and I love you very much. We are immensely proud of you. And it is definitely time for bed.

Which brings me, at last, to Caroline. It’s hard to imagine we are 40, my dear, and to work out where the time went. When I saw you tonight in your little outfit and roller skates I could have sworn you were 20 again. 16, if I squint like this.

In Caroline I found that person who is unbelievably beautiful and who laughs at my jokes, no matter how many times she has heard them. I had to marry you. No, really, I had to marry you – you gave me an ultimatum when we were 28 that, by the age of 30, you wanted to be married and pregnant, preferably in that order, and preferably to me. Obeying you was the best decision I never made.

You are smart, fun, forthright, quirky. There is never a moment that is not better for having shared it with you. Though we are built differently, we fit snugly together.

You are a quite simply a wonderful wife and Mum. By some accounts, you are not such an easy daughter or sister, but I won’t buy into that. You have recently resigned as a solicitor and I hope you find the vocation that harnesses your many passions and talents. I know you will. It’s such a shame they have already invented Trip Advisor, because that was your first billion dollars right there.

But I know you so well and I know what you will be thinking right now. And that is that this is all very well, but it’s just words. That this would all be so much better if it was expressed in a song, sung right here, right now, by me to you. And that by “me” you mean Hugh Jackman and by “you” you mean you. But Hugh couldn’t make it tonight – I think he’s at the Shostak bar mitzvah - and so, my dear, this could be my “Susan Boyle” moment, but it will probably be my “Meatloaf” moment. I give to you this song …