MY RECENT TRIP TO WELLINGTON

Now I apologise in advance about the quality and focus of this post but I'm writing it while watching the Uruguay-Georgia game LIVE on my computer and have to flick back and forwards. When I open another screen to write this post I can still hear the game  so, when the commentary gets a bit excited I quickly flick back from the Blog to the game-screen.

It was a big weekend in Wellington with the funeral for the death of an old friend on Friday and catching up with other old friends including Richard and Shelley who I stayed with which was great.
More on that in another post.

A lot more!

Now while my hair has decided to leave me in my later years the departure has been on the top with the back and sides hair thinking that they've got to  support their host by growing extra strong. As a consequence my hair grows out madly at right angles and, if I allowed it would  keep going enough at the back to make a pony-tail (or, at least, a mullet).  The fear of this turning John Key on is enough to make me keep that in trim.

Living up North where I do sartorial elegance isn't the first thing in mind when I wake up and debate with myself whether I should play tennis, go for a kayak, cycle, swim, have a bush walk, garden or do housework*. My hair then has got a bit shaggy. the Old girl, bless her. suggested when I told her I was going to Wellington, to get a haircut. "You look like that avatar image you use on your blog" she unkindly said. I had a look at that "avatar image you use on your blog" and thought that maybe she was right.

I told her that I wouldn't have time to get a haircut before making my way to wellington.
" Wear a hat" she said.

"A hat" I thought. at a funeral?
I considered the caps I wear when walking, cycling and playing tennis and they are generally sports-style caps with logos on them and in bright colours. These didn't seem appropriate.
The hats I wear when kayaking and gardening tend to be wide brimmed and made of straw. They are also light coloured. Not appropriate.
Then I remembered a cap I bought at the Op-Shop. It's black with a strong peak that sticks out. When I brought this home The Old Girl said something like "Not on your life Matey" and it got relegated to a spare closet. I found it and put it on before heading out the door to get the bus to Auckland (before catching a plane to Wellington). Fortunately we have a mirror in the hallway so when I was passing it I saw the price-sticker on the hat that read $1. Now this hat is brand new not having been used by anyone else before me so I couldn't understand why anyone wouldn't want to wear it. I removed the sticker.

In Auckland, staying in our apartment on Thursday night The Old Girl didn't see the hat as I'd put in my bag when on the bus.

In Wellington I collected the rental car ($26 a day!) and headed out to Wainuiomata to pick up Richard so that we could make our way to meet up with friends going to the funeral.

"That hat" said Richard.

"What about it?" I replied.

"It reminds me of Daffy Duck" he said.

"Fuck-off" I replied. "Daffy Duck looks nothing like this hat."

"Daffy Duck hunting" he said.

"What are you on?" I replied.

"No, no, daffy Duck going hunting" he repeated making me think that the poor old guy was the third of the old team to have a stroke. Then the penny dropped.
"You mean Elmer Fudd" I said.

Now I know that the colour, the style and the sheer practicality of the hat in question had no connection to Elmer (Richard thinks he's named 'Elma') Fudd, it's best to humour the old chap as he's getting a bit dotty (more in a later post).


Anyway, at the church after the funeral service (sorry Robert it was a Saint John's Anglican outfit) when Richard was bullying demanding asking suggesting that the Murray Robert's/Levin and Co. survivors would line up for a photograph he wanted me to wear my 'Daffy Duck' hat.

Here's the photograph:

Sorry about that. Daffy Duck, Elmer Fudd don't come into it. I just look like a silly old cunt. I should have listened to The Old Girl and planned ahead to get a haircut.

Here's another photograph where Richard insisted that I wear 'the' hat:

* Doing housework actually is much lower down on my list.