21Apr2005

There are some big events coming up in the next few weeks. Foremost was the election of the new Pope. The Vatican is reported to have put in place an electronic magnetic force field around the conclave of Cardinals whose job it is to choose the Pope. The 115 Cardinals who voted were be placed under electronic surveillance. Andrea Tornellini Papal biographer and Vatican watcher tells us that the secret services of various countries were extremely interested in knowing how the voting came out and how the final choice was arrived at. I believe that our TAB were interested too. They had our Cardinal Tom Williams 100 to 1.

Around about the same time Sir Clive Woodward, manager of the Lions rugby team says that he will be adopting similar principles with team selection as were operating in the Vatican. “This tour of New Zealand is as important to British rugby supporters as it was for those supporters of the Vatican” says Woodward. “I intend placing team selection meetings under electronic surveillance too but sadly I won’t have the help of the Holy Spirit. I’m a great learner” said Sir Clive as he gave me an off the record interview. “We have got a touring party of around 90. Not quite as many as the college of Cardinals but almost. But just like the Cardinals we will all be wearing red. When we get to New Zealand we will be adopting Vatican procedures. When it comes to choosing the team for the first game I along with all those officials who are not players (and there are about 45 of them) will go into the equivalent of a Papal conclave. The first game is in Rotoura. We intend to sequester ourselves in a whare at Whakarewarewa. The reason for this is that they tell me the whole place is surrounded by a stockade and we’ll have the added security of boiling mud pools. When we are voting for the team and get 75% plus one just like the Vatican you will see some white smoke go up the chimney. You will have to watch very carefully as they tell me the Pohutu geyser goes off regularly and you could confuse it’s erupting steam with smoke. I realise you have a thing here called the Resource Management Act which allows the discharge of smoke in the atmosphere but subject to stringent conditions. That’s why I brought a lawyer with me and with his help we don’t expect too much trouble in this regard. Also the permanent stench in the air at Rotorua will be a great help. We would hope that my entourage including the two masseurs, the team doctor, the chef along with our public relations team will after reaching this decision will be able to keep the smoke emission down to acceptable levels. Some critics have cruelly suggested that I am bringing a band of geriatrics. This is poppy cock. On average our team is about five years younger than the college of Cardinals. I have had my officials, at least 25 of them check out all the grounds we will be playing at and that they have assured me that all the changing rooms and indeed the showers will have wheel chair access and spaces for mobility scooters. This is most important as some of our ageing key players like Neil Back and Lawrence Dallaglio have been playing for England for what seems like the last 50 years”. “What about Johnny Wilkinson. Do you expect him to join the team”. “Are you speaking about Johnny Wilkinson OBE”. Well yes I was. “Let me tell you that although Johnny wasn’t in the original selection he didn’t get the OBE for nothing. If his wonky knee comes right he will be joining the team. He’s the only OBE we have got at the moment”. “ Our Best Emergency” and I bet there will be a few Cardinals with wonky knees after the conclave”.

“I see you’ve got Alistair Campbell as your public relations man. What’s his role in this team”. “Well he’s principally here to see that Tony Blair gets re-elected. You will recall that he was Tony Blair’s public relations man. He was the man who told us all about the weapons of mass destruction in Iraq. Unfortunately for him he didn’t find any. He is not coming to New Zealand to look for weapons because he knows there aren’t any here. What he plans to do is ensure the Lions win the test series then Blair will win the election by a landslide. Unfortunately the election will occur before the end of the series but don’t worry Alistair will be making a few predictions and this should swing the British public. “He’s good at that”.

Unfortunately for Sir Clive when the smoke went up the chimney in the Vatican on Wednesday it was all white. When the smoke goes up the chimney for Sir Clive’s selection it will be All Black.

15Apr2005

I knew when I saw the first swarm of them last November whilst on the road to Nelson that we were in for a bad season. But there was something different about them this year. In the past you would only see one or two. Sometimes if you were unlucky up to three. But here they were as early as November. Into their twenties and more.

Living as I did in the Hawkes Bay in the 1950s. I’d become accustomed to migratory birds. You could set your watch as to when the gannets would wing their way back to Cape Kidnappers. There they settled for the summer after the flight from Siberia. And equally you could lay odds on a departure in early Autumn. It was obvious that the swarms I earlier spoke of were a new form of migratory life. But unlike the gannets they didn’t just settle in one spot. They were every where throughout both Islands. There was a danger that they could become as prolific as the rabbit. I wondered whether the Department of Conversation as aware of the impending plague. I spoke to a District Conservator.

“Yes we’ve noted the dramatic increase in the numbers of these migratory creatures. There has been a real outbreak of them over the last few months. We’ve identified them as the species “Campus Vanus” or to give them their common title “Camper Vaners”. Most of them come from the Northern Hemisphere. We have identified various sub species. There’s the “Pommy Campus Vanus”. It migrates from the United Kingdom. It was particularly prevalent this season. It is easily identifiable. Very white underbelly. Blood shot eyes. Their flesh goes red after a couple of days exposure to our sunlight. It is something that they are not accustomed to. Then there is the “Euro Campus Vanus”. Darker flesh but can sometimes have tuffs of fairish hair spouting from the head. Very prominent abdomens. And this year we saw for the first time the “Campus Vanus Americanus”. But what’s been interesting is that whereas in the past just the male and female used to travel, now they are traveling in large groups. These would be those swarms you saw on the road to Nelson. You would have noticed the dominant characteristics. They travel very very slowly. They seem to like main highways. They are mesmerised by the middle line. The real problem is that there could be up to 20 or more traveling in convoy. Slowly. Attracted to the middle line. You’ve got no show of overtaking them. We have tried to keep them out of the South Island but unfortunately the Ferry people are making so much money out of transporting them here they are reluctant to give up a good thing. They’re bringing them across the Cook Straight in their hundreds. If you want to see the real extent of the problem go down to the Ferry Terminal. On any given day you can see up to 100 of them just standing there fortunately stationary, but readying to strike. There they are male and female and in some case young offspring. Judging by their age – that’s the offspring – we don’t think there’s been any mating in New Zealand. But I can assure you we are keeping an eye on it. There’s not much we can do. Someone suggested fumigation but we ran into such problems which the painted apple moth we are not game to have a go.

Fortunately we have established they are migratory. If this cold spell keeps up you can bet they will be beetling back to Great Yarmouth, Hamburg or wherever they came from. We have found that if we can get them off the road that they are particularly friendly and affable. They’re not as noxious as stoats and wasps and apparently they contribute substantially to the economy. What we need to do is break them up so they travel alone, male and female but definitely no mating! I could only wish the man from DOC the best of luck.

14Apr2005

By the time you get to read this it will all be over. No, I am not talking about the Hurricanes playing the Warratahs in Wellington on Sunday afternoon. I’m speaking of the wedding of Charles and Camilla at Windsor last Saturday. As we know the wedding was scheduled for Friday but the Pope’s funeral on Wednesday threw the whole organisation into turmoil. They were having to wind the clock forward 24 hours to accommodate the wedding. This change was to line the pockets of entrepreneurs and frustrated caterers. Look what happened. Everyone was on their way to Windsor Friday last. And then Pope John Paul II passed away.

The principal beneficiaries of these change of plans were the vendors of wedding memorabilia, caterers, airlines and suit hire firms. Those t-shirts, tea towels and commemorative mugs all emblazoned with the wedding date “8th April 2005” suddenly became collectors’ items.
I remember my mother allowing me on special occasions like my birthday or Christmas day to have my porridge out of a bowl which proclaimed the coronation of Edward VII - an event which never took place. Yes things were bad in those days. We did have to eat porridge on Christmas day. But as a special treat I sometimes got four or five muscatels in the mix. On ordinary days I used to taunt my mother “Mum, can I have my porridge out of ‘the King who never was plate’ today?” This was in pre non smacking times and I’d get a quick clip about the ears. “No you can’t. This is a very valuable plate”.
Well, out in circulation now are thousands of very valuable “Charles and Camilla April 8th 2005” wrong date mugs and plates. Early last week the sales of wedding memorabilia had been extremely slow. But as soon as the wedding date was changed all hell broke loose. I spoke with Charlie Ferguson who’s had a stall down in Notting hill’s Portobello Road for twenty years. I met him last year at his stand one Saturday morning. His stall specialises in old second-hand 78 and LP records like Bing Crosby, The Ink Spots, Gracie Fields, the Seekers together with the greatest assortment of the strangest junk you’ve ever seen. Not that Bing Crosby’s crooning was junk, but you get my drift. “What’s with the Charles and Camilla mugs and the tea towels Charlie?” “Well originally I bought up a special line of mugs and plates from Taiwan. Sales were very slow. Then Saturday a week ago they changed the wedding date. The sales took off. I sent an email to my supplier in Taiwan. “Send me three containers of those same mugs and plates you sent earlier. Airfreight.” I sold the lot within 24 hours. All this came about as a result of the Pope’s death. Now I’m not a religious man but I’m seriously thinking of turning a Catholic. I’ve made a fortune. Next time you come to see me I’ll have moved out of those old run down digs in Braddiston Road, West Kilburn and gone upmarket somewhere in Maida Vale. It’s an ill wind that blows somebody good.” Whilst Charlie Ferguson stallholder, Portobello Road made a fortune out of the change of date spare a thought for Ranahunate Medge one of Bombay’s lunch box deliverymen. He’s the president of Bombay’s Dabbawallahs Association. They’re the people who everyday for the last 104 years have transported 200,000 lunches from private homes to offices in Bombay central business district using an intricate system of colour coding to ensure the meals go to the right place. Last month the Dabbawallahs sent wedding gifts. A sari and bangles for Mrs Parker-Bowles and a turban for Prince Charles. As a result the Association of Dabbawallahs received an invitation from the British High Commission in Bombay for two officials to attend the wedding. “We’ve got our visas and prepared to leave” said Mr Medge adding that air tickets and a two day hotel stay had been arranged. But now the dates been changed we’ve got to re-arrange the delivery of 200,000 meals in Bombay next Sunday. This extra day we are away could cost us thousands of rupees. But no worry the owner of ‘Ye Harte & Garter’ opposite Windsor Castle has roped us in to do a Saturday special of tandori chicken, vindaloos and spicy curries for the influx of visitors he expects.

So Saturday dawned and all the air around Windsor was permeated with exotic smells of Indian cuisine as the Medge brothers cooked up a veritable epicurean monsoon. You’ve now seen the photos of the wedding. Sadly neither Charles chose not to wear his turban nor Camilla her sari but it was a great day. Not only for the Prince and his bride but Charlie Ferguson now of Maida Vale who was there on the day ensuring that the Medge brothers were serving their curries on his now priceless imported china bearing the legend “Charles and Camilla 8th April 2005.”

07Apr2005

“It’s official” proclaimed the headline in the ‘Sunday Star Times’ a week or so ago. We are in the grip of a man drought. Social scientist Dr. Paul Callister tells us that kiwi men in their relationship forming years have virtually disappeared. Men are increasingly outnumbered by women. In 1986 there were 700 more men in this country than there were women. But by 2001 there were 53,000 more women than men in the 20-40 age group. You’d have to ask the question “where have all the young men gone?” “We’ve got no idea” says Dr. Callister who incidentally received a government grant to find out where they were. Apparently he hasn’t come up with the answer yet.

I decided to research this male disappearance without, I must declare, any government subsidy. This is what I found. Surprisingly, and this I have empirically established, is that the decline in the numbers of the male species came around about the same time that sauvignon blanc grapes were planted in Marlborough. There’s obviously a co-relation. Kiwi men in the days before the 1980’s were a swashbuckling, devil may care beer drinking part of the community. A kiwi man would come home of an evening. Crack open a Lion Red. Tuck into a feed of roast mutton, kumara, pumpkin and potatoes and then put his feet up and snore off in front of the TV. But along came sauvignon blanc. It not only took the world of wine by storm but it, as we shall see, caused a great social revolution. Into the 1980’s social mores changed. The kiwi man arrived home to be greeted by the lady of the house and a wine bottle (both chilled). He had to sit there quietly sipping and was expected by his partner to indulge in intelligent and meaningful conversation. Beer consumption as a result plummeted. Sauvignon blanc sales sky rocketed. No longer could the male put his feet up and snore off. Not only had he to drink the sauvignon blanc but he was expected to help with the preparation of the sauce for the evening meal of pasta, or worse still cook a quiche. All this was a recipe for extinction. So what happened. In true Darwinian fashion the kiwi male, determined to preserve the species, realised that the only way that the fittest could survive was to head for the hills. It was sauvignon blanc and quiche that drove him out. In the course of my research I found enclaves of men living almost cave like in primitive conditions in such remote areas as the Matakitaki Valley beyond Murchison. In places like Kuripapango on the old Napier-Taihape Road. There they were hundreds of eligible males living happily in primitive communities. Living off the land. Not a sauvignon blanc in sight. Foraging for food where they could find it. Gathered around the evening campfire cooking damper (a mixture of flour and water twirled onto a stick of manuka). Ladling out copious quantities of an alcoholic drink that they’d brewed up from fermented fern roots. At one with nature.

I spoke with Ted, one of these males. Here’s his story. “I left society because I realised there was little future for me in a female dominated environment. I felt threatened. It looked to me as if the whole show had been taken over by women. You had the Prime Minister. The Governor General. The Chief Justice. The Speaker of the House. All women. Hell. The last job I had as an earthmover, all the dump truck drivers were women. I knew I didn’t stand a chance. At the end of the day they used to retire to their smoko shed and get stuck into the sauvignon blanc. I couldn’t take any more. So I headed for the hills. I reckon there are about 53,000 of us, red blooded males hiding away up here in the bush and I can’t see us coming out unless there’s a change of government or a change in the drinking habits.”

The breweries confirmed my research. Beer sales have over the last five years slumped dramatically. Wine sales especially sauvignon blanc are at an all time high. “It’s no good” says kiwi bloke Gary McCormick. “The government’s gotta get these men out of the bush. Get them back into society. Get them down in the towns and villages back into increasing and multiplying the human race.” McCormick reckons that a $5,000.00 grant to enable these latter day cavemen to buy an old Holden would be a good starting point. Get them back on the road. Ted wasn’t so sure. “That might suit McCormick, he’s an old surfie. I wouldn’t know one end of one surfboard from the other. And as for increasing and multiplying, maths has never been my strong point.” “Well do you remember that song Maurice Chavalier used to sing Ted?” “Never heard of him.” “Well he was a French singer. The song went something like this. “Tank ‘eaven for leetle boys without them what would leetle girls do ..” “Just what you expect from a Frenchman” said Ted. “I couldn’t care less. All I know is there are 53,000 others like me who are quite happy to stay up here in the bush. Make that 53,001. I hear John Tamihere wants to join us next week.