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The
Creek | March 4th | 2006 .................... ..........GIMME DANGER....... .................... ..  ....................... A rare scene. People having fun. Last weeks South Park ‘Bloody Mary’ episode was in some way a moralistic tale about self determination in the modern world. It is a tale with a lesson the Waitakere Council would seem to require as they seek to fill in a swimming hole because of a number of drownings. It is symptomatic of the psyche of the establishment that they can even contemplate such a heavy handed move. Why is it the f**king swimming holes fault? It seems that in our society we believe that rules and regulation will solve any problem. But doesn’t that kind of circumvent any personal responsibility? If a four year old kid drowns in a swimming hole isn’t it probably the parents fault? Clearly something’s gone mad, but is it political correctness? Or is it the contemporary need for everything surrounding children to be safe, sanitised and padded to a maddening degree. Political Correctness hasn’t gone mad – bureaucracy and parenting has. When I think back on my childhood growing up in West Auckland I cant help but feel that they would want to concrete the whole of that in too, or have it shut down by OSH. We were in almost constant peril. We made flying foxes, rope swings, dodgy tree huts, and rafts, without a man in a white coat in sight. We had a trolley race where one part of the course went across the road. A kid would stand on the road to say if a car coming. But even if a car came, in the white hot competition of 11 year olds trolley derby, we probably wouldn’t want to stop. We would lose valuable points. Even if we did want to stop the brake was a pathetic stick that dragged against the wheel. It would either (a) not work or (b) snap off, if applied. We also played numerous games on houses that were being built. They had scaffolding on them and were fantastic play grounds when you were growing up. But because we did that stuff we learned a lot of lessons. We learned all about consequences. We explored boundaries. We became self-reliant. Mostly we learnt where bravery ends and stupidity begins. Oh.. and also we got hurt – a lot. I smashed out my front teeth and because of a misadventure on my bike – broke my arm. Scrapped knees and various wounds and bruises were de rigueur. If my son Harry doesn’t come home with similar when he grows up I will wont to know why. “Go outside and hurt yourself you bloody sook.” I will say.  Scene of the crime - The Whau Creek/ River The Great Purple Speed Boat Story - (A Huckleberry Finish) When I was about 12 we were obsessed with building rafts. We would steal any 44 gallon drum that wasn’t nailed down. Eventually we built our dream vessel. It was an wallowing, idiotic, meandering shipping hazard, and because it had no rudder, it was almost completely directionless. Once we had launched it we realized we had nowhere to go in it. So we decided to build a tree hut on the opposite side of the creek, The Whau Creek. One day we piled our dinghy up with wood and set off across the water to build the tree hut. “It’s like your Huckleberry Finn.” I would say to my mate. “and your Tom Sawyer.” “Whose Tom Sawyer?” He said rowing his way deftly through the mangroves. Halfway across a piece of 'four by two' fell off the back of the boat. “We’ll get it later” we said and carried on. Landing on the distant shore we set about building our tree hut / platform on a tree overlooking the water. After a while, a purple speedboat sped past us on the water. “Wow! What a cool boat!” In those days the only colour to threaten Purple in the coolness stakes was Orange. To an adolescent boy a purple speedboat was the River King. We watched it in awe as it disappeared around the corner. When it came back around it was going even faster, but it was heading towards our bit of wood. “Sh*t it’s gonna hit our plank” I said. With great authority my mate said; “It will jump over it. Don’t worry. A boat like that won’t be troubled by a bit of old wood.” Wrong. The boat hit the wood and somehow it launched the glorious purple speedboat into the air. It was one of those moments where time seems to stand still and life is performed in slow motion, so that it will imprint on your consciousness more emphatically. The purple speedboat became airborne and at the same time turned slowly over in mid air. It was a scene that was almost beautiful or poetic. Except, I guess for the owner of the speed boat. When it hit the water again it flipped immediately, until it was upside down. Then it started sinking. “F**K” Work on the tree hut ceased. We rowed out to the boat as quickly as we could. Luckily the two guys in the boat were thrown out in the crash. When we arrived one guy was clutching a line going to the boat as it slid underwater. The glorious purple speedboat was sinking fast, the fashionable colour purple fading into the murky water. We were terrified they would want to kill us, but of course they didn’t know it was our bit of wood. “Thank god you guys were here!” They said. We stayed with them until another boat arrived and they even tried to give us some money. Unfortunately, the sense of adventure was so keenly felt my moronic mate told his dad what happened. He gave us a bit of a telling off but you could tell he thought it was pretty funny. Had the above happened in 2006 what would have happened? The parents would have had a conference. “This is an outrage.” they would say. "You boys could have been hurt!" "How could it happen?" The place where we launched our boat would be fenced off. The tree we built our hut in would be chopped down. Finally they would have to concrete the creek in. “One day possibly someone may get hurt.” Said the councilor. “That cannot happen.”  Piha. In need of a concrete solution. Where will it all end? Piha is a much bigger danger than the swimming hole but luckily we have the solution. This is the way of the future. No danger - ever. No personal choices, just concrete. I’m going to buy my shares in a concrete company today. One day I'll be a rich man. |
Fatherhood Posts: Harry The Birth Naming the baby Antenatal Class Fatherhood2 I'm going to be a dad! |
| TV
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February 16th 2006 ............... ..KUMARA NEWS.................... ........................... .. ..............FOSSILS FUEL CALLS FOR ..,,,,,...,,,,,,..,,,,...CHANGE TO TV........... ...........................  ......................."ere. Where's that bleedin' remote?" Yesterdays announcement calling for a shake up of Television has been followed up by a press conference at the the Ponsonby Bowling club. The venue was chosen because it's facilities are better suited to the elderly. It was a chance for the infirm and uninformed to bang their hands on the podium of New Zealand public life in frustration. "Weve had enough" said the octagarian. "I thought we didn't have enough" said the pensioner. "When does the bar open?" said former Governor General Cath Tizard. And so began the most long winded and also short winded debate ever, on the state of our TV programmes. "There's nothing decent on anymore. Everyone is saying so" "Give the people what they want!" Joe Atkinson lecturer on TV studies said. "You mean, give the people what YOU want." At which point an elderly man shouted. "Bastard! I didn't fight in two world wars..." Their was then a minor fracas as the advocates for change vented spleen. Eventually order was restored.. During the outburst it was revealed that Sir Edmund Hillary had conquered everything but his remote, and had never watched a channel other than TV One. When they were quizzed on what they thought they would like to see on our screens there was no consensus, although they all agreed it would be something British and stood for a rousing version of "God Save The Queen". "We want a return to quality TV programmes like "Are You Being Served" said a spokesman. At that point Broadcast Minister Steve Maharey arrived and slid into the room on the slick of his own glib rhetoric. "I've come to give you an offhand commitment to send the ideas and indeed ideals, of this group to a select commitee. In so doing it will enter the labyrinthine corridors of bureaucracy which are kafkaesque both in their pointlessness and complexity.." Confusion and muted clapping. Then Dame Cath said."W**ker!" Maharey continued, condescending to use common english. "What about a geriactric channel?" clapping. "Now your talking.." "It can have a cooking show for kiwis. A simple one. called "The Edmonds Cookbook" . Episode 1 can be "Fun with Scones". The group erupted into cheering.. "and it can have a show fronted by Sir Howard Morrison, which will be light entertainment" "Very light on entertainment indeed" "and he can get young people on and tell them they're fat" The crowd was ecstatic. Dame Malvina Major said. "No one can do that like Sir Howard can. Who else could front such a show?" From the back of the room; the unmistakable sound of feathers being ruffled. Someone was clearing their throat. It was Paul Homes. "I think you, my core demographic, are forgetting about me" He rose from his chair with exaggerated gravitas, but was barely taller than when he was sitting down. Temuera Morrison then said." Bro I heard Sky TV are in negotiations to buy an aircraft hangar to keep your ego in.." laughs. "Cheekie darkie.." "You all know my credentials and here.." Holmes produces a cassette player. "Listen to this. It's me waxing lyrical from my show this morning about the Bali nine" His voice continues on the tape machine.. ." ........ John Howard that brilliant man put it exactly right when he said 'I dont care about the bali nine. I care a bout their Parents'.. yes.. their parents. Imagine it ... and I can because I have stared into the face of despair, into the mascara laden eyes of Rosalee Corby, the Mother of that innocent girl Shapelle. Yes, I have seen the despair there. Imagine it. It would be like.. well, like carrying around a small fridge on your back....."  The fridge. Ideal to keep your despair in. Holmes then clicked the machine off like he had made his point. An aged dignitary stood up and said. "Were getting off track. Damn that midget! We need to give the TV back to the people!" Joe Atkinson spoke again. "Dont the ratings tell you what the people want to see? They want to see "Celebrity Treasure Island". They dont want to see some BBC documentary" "Thats rubbish! I was at my mobility scooter anger management course the other day and the verdict was unanimous. TV has gone downhill. it's on the slippery slope. My god. Adults watching cartoons .. what next.." "here..here.." Steve Maharey mentioned "Bro Town" for the 15th time and then a resoltion was passed to hold a 'bottle drive'and a bring-and-buy for the cause. The group also agreed to meet again in two weeks (Ladies bring a plate). Eventually a representitive of TVNZ arrived and simply plugged in a TV which played some of the shows that had been mooted earlier. As Close to Home and Gallery played the mood in the group changed and when an episode of "Mc Phail and Gadsby" came on things turned nasty. "They'd be buggered without Muldoon!" Soon an ex Prime Minster declared."I prefer South Park to this crap!" "Disband the group! Sherries all round!" And so it was over. |
Humid
report | January 23rd 2006 |
