It’s All Good

Andrew Daddo

ISBN 0733620760 Hodder Australia RRP$32.95
Release May 2006

In 1991 Andrew Daddo was sacked as an MTV presenter. Rather than slink back to Australia immediately, Andrew and a bloke he’d met at a party named Ray O’Neal, set off on a month-long motorcycle journey across America. That summer spent riding cross country with Ray forged a friendship that Andrew thought would last a lifetime. But in February 2004, Ray died in an accident. He left behind a wife and a young daughter, Rose. In It’s All Good, Daddo writes about that motorcycle journey, the people he met and the things he and Ray did, as a way of sharing with Rose some memories of her father.

Daddo is an effortless storyteller. He writes with a raw honesty that captures moments of pure joy and quiet sadness as their story unfolds from one yarn to the next with delightful ease. In conveying to Rose the love that her father would have shown her, Daddo captures a universal sadness experienced when we lose someone we love. His story is heartfelt and the reader is left with a lingering message to love well and to never take people and the good times for granted. ‘I’ll be honest. I thought It’s All Good was about a motorcycle ride across America with a mate. Kind of a Boys Own journal about two boys playing dress-ups as bikies: the sort of thing most guys might like to do. ‘It was a long time ago. We were twentyfour, full of beans and ready for anything. It was a brilliant adventure where we both learnt as much about each other as we did about ourselves. What a pair of pretenders. I was never going to write about it. I’ve always believed some things should be left alone; for stories to simmer and create their own lives if they were good enough. ‘That was until Ray O’Neal, my motorcycling mate, died last year in a workplace accident. It was a tragic end to a short life. ‘At the time of his death, Ray had a wife and three-year-old daughter, Rose. Much the same age as one of my own daughters. As parents I think we’d all like to know that our children knew something about us—and yet, I knew that Rose could never really know her father. A memory may linger from her childhood, but she’d need other memories as well. Daddo intended to write a letter to Rose, but, ‘it swelled. Things needed explanation. Who the hell was I, anyway? Would knowing something of me help her know more of her father? I thought it might. I certainly hope so, anyway. ‘By the time the book was finished, I realised it was more than a letter to Rose about her father. It’s not just about a motorbike ride. It’s about a life lived and lost. It’s about fighting for your memories. It’s about fighting for love and life and minimising regret. ‘It’s about life, and that there are a million ways to live it.’ It also implores us to work at preserving our memories. ‘I thought the ride was behind me. Over the years, when Ray and I caught up, we hardly talked about that summer across America. ‘One or two stories would come out, always the same stories, of course. How we were almost murdered on the Mississippi, or that night with that family at the bottom of the Grand Canyon. But I think that’s because it was our trip. We’d done it, we’d lived it. I suppose we didn’t need to talk it through whenever we got together. ‘I really thought it was behind me, but I’m happy to have it in my future, too.