Many years ago a friend offered to take me to work on his prized 1000cc Yamaha. It turned out to be a horrific ride for us both. In my case the fear factors were – I had no helmet on (they weren’t compulsory at the time), I was wearing only a light summer dress with platform-soled sandals, and he was going really fast. As my wind-whipped eyelids peeled back I remember thinking two things, “OMG – I probably look like Marty Feldman!” and, “Never again!” How right I was.
At the end of the trip I wobbled my way into work. Then I realised – “I’m not wobbling, my sandals are.” A quick look revealed an exhaust pipe-shaped hollow of melted synthetic in both soles that gave my every step the look of the proverbial drunken sailor. “Look at my shoes!” I wailed. But my friend was down on his knees staring tensely at his bike’s exhaust pipes.
Our friendship did not develop any further. In fact it didn’t survive the experience at all. But I learned a key principle from it – whether we’re going to make or break in a partnership depends on how far we’re willing to compromise. Out of those compromises will fall our bottom lines. And where those lie is best found out before we formalize the partnership.
Looking at the potential of the newly sworn in Far North District Council I’m reminded of my Yamaha experience with a few little variations.
The guy at the wheel of the Council bike looks and sounds the part of a seasoned rider (100%). But his pillion partners look like a fashion grab bag – some in leathers, others in chiffon. Still, he seems to be in control. Of course this bike is not blatting freely down the Awanui Straight. Rather, it’s inside a small arena being cheered by a hardened audience that seems prepared to give the bike and its riders a newbie’s chance. But it’s only a matter of time before some of them start lobbing rocks, even explosives, on to the track. And, believe me, this crowd will not be averse to seeing blood on the ground if or when the bike and its riders wipe out. Add to the spectacle one or two rogue riders on their own bikes, running their own races, and there’s always a prang in the offing.
The frame of the Council bike itself is another matter altogether. Instead of resembling high tensile steel, it’s more like bamboo with a bad case of borer. Shoot! How’d you like to try strapping a 1000cc engine on something like that and opening the throttle? To top it all off, waiting in the pit-stop to service the Council bike is a crew who know that the riders will take any glory, while any blame will be theirs. In the words of the immortal Charlie Chan, “Vel-ly intelesting.”
His Mayoralty and partners will have considered all these things, I’m sure. They’ll have plans (either already in place or being scoped) to replace this valve, reinforce that joint, hold everything together, keep it all on course.
My advice to them all is simple. If they want to stay on this particular bike and not get booted off at the next pit-stop, then they’d do well to watch where they put their feet.
Hei konei. Hei kona.
Monday, November 26, 2007
Wednesday, November 07, 2007
GONE FISHING
You have to give Winston Peters credit for consistency. A year out from the next general election and he’s rat-a-tat-tatting the same boogie-man drumbeat about Maori ‘separatists’ that he’s banged out every election since 1993.
His timing, like his dress sense, is as impeccable as ever. But, unlike his hair, the pool of ready supporters for the message has thinned somewhat. So, has natural attrition amongst the Grey Power generation forced him to go a-fishing in browner waters? Is that behind his recent call for Maori to turn their backs on the Maori Party and, presumably, climb into his open arms?
In a way it’s a backhanded compliment to Tariana and co – a concession that heaps of Maori support them at present. But how could Winston seriously think that he and NZ First would be the natural next choice for any disaffected MP’ers? Sure – his cheeky, Ngapuhi boy from the backblocks grin, coupled with the aforesaid hair and suits, all hold undeniable appeal. So too does the ease with which he chews up and spits out Pakeha reporters. Engari, Hone does Ngapuhi styles, cheek and intimidation even better. So nah … those charms alone wouldn’t win over loads of MP’ers to NZ First.
Could it be that this time round Winitana is offering Maori something more cultural – like, maybe, a claim to being matakite? Why not? Before the police have charged any of the recent detainees as terrorists, even before the solicitor general has released his decision as to whether they’ll be charged with anything more than breaching firearms laws, Winston has fingered them and the Maori Party as “taxpayer sponsored militant separatists” who “represent apartheid and the destruction of New Zealand values.” That sounds quite bad doesn’t it? Barely half a rung removed from terrorism. What perspicacity! What bollocks!
This brand of politics had its heyday during America’s McCarthy era and its name comes in two versions. Either “BOO!” or “oooh” will do. The second is pronounced with an accompanying quaver in the voice and shiver of the shoulders. Winston does both quite well and he may have a potential audience of 1 in 7 New Zealanders for his message. According to a recent UMR poll that’s how many don’t think the recent “terror raids” were an over-reaction. I’ve never heard of UMR before, but I’d be very surprised if their findings reflected the views of Maori voters.
Mind you, not even the Maori Party can afford to be complacent about the Maori vote. It’s a strange beastie, strong on complex loyalties and defiant of logic. Consider this – even though Labour has again ignored, even trashed, Maori issues this term, it will probably still corner a significant slice of that vote next year. Stranger still is this fact – before the advent of the Maori Party, many Taitokerau constituents would approach National’s Northland MP for help and not bother with the Labour member they’d voted in. Yet they’d never change their allegiance to National. Go figure. You can bet Labour will.
Of course that doesn’t stop Winston pretending to look like he wants to buck the trend amongst Maori voters. But his message to them, in the face of their persistent and growing call for self-determination, sounds odd – somewhere between wondrously frank and sadly desperate. The reason for that is simple – it’s not actually aimed at them.
No. Mister Consistent is once again trolling for votes from amongst nga kaki whero me tangata matuku (the red necks and the frightened) and using Maori as the bait.
E rite tonu. E rite tonu.
His timing, like his dress sense, is as impeccable as ever. But, unlike his hair, the pool of ready supporters for the message has thinned somewhat. So, has natural attrition amongst the Grey Power generation forced him to go a-fishing in browner waters? Is that behind his recent call for Maori to turn their backs on the Maori Party and, presumably, climb into his open arms?
In a way it’s a backhanded compliment to Tariana and co – a concession that heaps of Maori support them at present. But how could Winston seriously think that he and NZ First would be the natural next choice for any disaffected MP’ers? Sure – his cheeky, Ngapuhi boy from the backblocks grin, coupled with the aforesaid hair and suits, all hold undeniable appeal. So too does the ease with which he chews up and spits out Pakeha reporters. Engari, Hone does Ngapuhi styles, cheek and intimidation even better. So nah … those charms alone wouldn’t win over loads of MP’ers to NZ First.
Could it be that this time round Winitana is offering Maori something more cultural – like, maybe, a claim to being matakite? Why not? Before the police have charged any of the recent detainees as terrorists, even before the solicitor general has released his decision as to whether they’ll be charged with anything more than breaching firearms laws, Winston has fingered them and the Maori Party as “taxpayer sponsored militant separatists” who “represent apartheid and the destruction of New Zealand values.” That sounds quite bad doesn’t it? Barely half a rung removed from terrorism. What perspicacity! What bollocks!
This brand of politics had its heyday during America’s McCarthy era and its name comes in two versions. Either “BOO!” or “oooh” will do. The second is pronounced with an accompanying quaver in the voice and shiver of the shoulders. Winston does both quite well and he may have a potential audience of 1 in 7 New Zealanders for his message. According to a recent UMR poll that’s how many don’t think the recent “terror raids” were an over-reaction. I’ve never heard of UMR before, but I’d be very surprised if their findings reflected the views of Maori voters.
Mind you, not even the Maori Party can afford to be complacent about the Maori vote. It’s a strange beastie, strong on complex loyalties and defiant of logic. Consider this – even though Labour has again ignored, even trashed, Maori issues this term, it will probably still corner a significant slice of that vote next year. Stranger still is this fact – before the advent of the Maori Party, many Taitokerau constituents would approach National’s Northland MP for help and not bother with the Labour member they’d voted in. Yet they’d never change their allegiance to National. Go figure. You can bet Labour will.
Of course that doesn’t stop Winston pretending to look like he wants to buck the trend amongst Maori voters. But his message to them, in the face of their persistent and growing call for self-determination, sounds odd – somewhere between wondrously frank and sadly desperate. The reason for that is simple – it’s not actually aimed at them.
No. Mister Consistent is once again trolling for votes from amongst nga kaki whero me tangata matuku (the red necks and the frightened) and using Maori as the bait.
E rite tonu. E rite tonu.
Saturday, November 03, 2007
Cheers
Alcoholism beats me down and makes this a strange, tense time.
My God lifts me up and shows me this new and exciting time.
Alcoholism silences my laughter.
My God shouts "Cheers!" at me and laughs out loud.
Alcoholism puts a brake on me and makes me sick.
My God lifts me up and shows me this new and exciting time.
Alcoholism silences my laughter.
My God shouts "Cheers!" at me and laughs out loud.
Alcoholism puts a brake on me and makes me sick.
My God opens the throttle and sends shepherds to rescue me.
Alcoholism poisons my marriage.
My God heals my marriage with unconditional love.
Alcoholism poisons my marriage.
My God heals my marriage with unconditional love.
Alcoholism hardens my heart and deadens my feelings.
My God softens me with true repentance and forgiveness.
Alcoholism perverts my sexuality.
My God gives me straight and great sex.
Alcoholism brings hate, fear and anger to me.
My God gifts me with serenity, courage and wisdom.
Yay for God!
****************************************************
[D & C 68:6] Wherefore, be of good cheer, and do not fear, for I the Lord am with you, and will stand by you; and ye shall bear record of me, even Jesus Christ, that I am the Son of the living God, that I was, that I am, and that I am to come.
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