I always remember, and enjoy, this story from Barry.
Can't remember if it was in a book or at a live show.
Anyway, he had split up with one of his wives and had subsequently moved out of the marital house.
After a few weeks he realised that he had left behind an expensive painting that he really liked and so he decided that he'd go back to the house and ask his estranged wife if she would give it back to him.
When he got to the house there was nobody home.
Dejected, he walked back down the stairs and peered briefly into a skip bin sitting on the front verge.
Inside was the painting! (His wife had always hated it).
He bundled it up, put it into his car, and drove off into the Melbourne sunset
I don't know why, but I just love that story.
Great man - a true talent. It'll be a sad day when he leaves us.