WHERE WERE YOU IN '63?

Ok, it doesn't rhyme I know. If you want poetry go to Second Fiddle's blog. I was listening to National Radio today and they were talking about how most people in the (Western) world could remember where they were when they first heard that JFK had been assassinated. The 'Camelot' phenomenon was such that, like them or hate them most people liked to 'own' a bit of the Kennedys. In my case, being Catholic, it seemed that the Church had claimed him and we were expected to follow suit. Anyway. Where was I? I was in Standard 4 at Marist Brothers Newtown. I was in the lower playground (out of sight of the teachers' staff room). I was flicking live matches at a kid named Compton. He was short, fat and oily so it is probably just as well that the news came down that JFK had been shot as if Compton had caught fire he would have burned for an eternity the way it seems that that West Coast coal mine is going to.

PLAYING AWAY

I had a romantic interlude over the weekend, having travelled down to Auckland  and shacked up in our pied-a-terre for a few days. It has been a strange year with the Old Girl travelling a lot to Auckland and other cities to the point that she is away every week for at least a few days. Years ago when we were living in Christchurch I used to fly to Auckland every week for three or four days whilst she stayed home so this kind of balances things up. Last week Lynn was in Auckland all week and then this week will be further down country for a week without having had the chance to get home for the weekend. I decided to have our weekend together down there and am glad that I did. Apart from the fact that she had to work Saturday we had lots of time together, nice meals and some catch up with friends. On Sunday we went for a long walk down to Western Springs lake and park. This is one of Auckland's treasures and is well worth the visit. It encompasses MOTAT (Museum of transport and technology) and the Zoo so is a special place. We lived in Point Chevalier for years and only seldom went there. How stupid were we?

The faith of idiots

OK, another one but this one is short. It is also simple, concise and so appropriate. Pat Condell challenges rabid christians with nice logic and reasoning. I like him. One of my favourites is "God the psycho" - check it out.

Hello angry Christians

Sorry about the previous video. That Aussi guy is a real nutter, you should see his other ones.
This guy is much more sensible. He has a lot of good essays on topics like "Was Jesus Gay?", "What's Good about Religion?", "Is Satan a Catholic?" etc.

PROOF THAT AUSTRALIANS ARE CRAZY

This is for Second. It is to show that for every looney on his side there is at least one balancing one on the other.
The clip is long so f.f. through it. I like the sentiment though.

SATURDAY AFTERNOON

I remember going to Saturday afternoon pictures when I was young and losing myself in them. The greatest impact that this had on me and my imagination was between the ages of 10 and 14.  I used to virtually disappear inside the film. In the ‘60’s films were shown at 11AM, 2PM, 5PM and 8PM – no exceptions. This was great. There was certainty on when a film was going to be shown giving you plenty of time to get there and buy some lollies and find a good seat. Nowadays films (now known as movies, yet another annoying Americanism along with 9-11, 24-7 and candy) can start at any time with no rhyme nor reason and with no advance warning on the size of the ‘theatre’.

When I was young, particularly in the winter, it was always peculiar to go into the picture theatre in daylight and come out a few hours later when it was becoming dark. This was testament to the fact that I would become totally absorbed in the film, forgetting about Wellington and the day-to-day things around me. I used to build up anticipation before the film and begin watching in a state of excitement that I have never since experienced. The process of watching a film in those days was teasingly drawn out. Everyone would be made to get seated in plenty of time, act properly and hush as soon as the lights were dimmed. 

All picture theatres were large affairs with ornate plasterwork, lighting and in particular the curtains. In the dark these would be highlighted and to some dramatic music they would draw open. In the first half, if the film was an epic demanding a wide screen, the curtains would only pull three quarters open. This was sufficient to show the newsreels, cartoons and perhaps a short film. At the end of this ‘first half’ the curtains would draw closed again, the lights would come up and there would be a short interval for people to got to the toilet, get an ice-cream or some lollies before getting seated again. In earlier days I remember concessionaires would come around the theatre with trays that would have ice-creams and lollies for sale. There was a chocolate covered ice-cream like a very long Eskimo pie that could only be bought at the pictures. It was in a long cardboard carton with a cardboard zipper starting from the bottom which you gradually pushed up with you finger to raise the ice-cream to your mouth. Neat. There generally wasn’t any trouble at the pictures, certainly not at the 2PM screening. The bodgies and widgies most likely went to the 5PM and 8PM sessions. 

Widgies

People (kids) were better behaved and had greater respect for authority. It is fair that the ‘authority’ that was had a bit more gravitas than today as the usher was lie likely to be a man or a woman and the manager definitely an older man not a school kid so a threat to get the manager was always listened to. Sometimes, if the film for some reason was not gripping or had insufficient build up, some kids might throw lollies about. Richard (of RBB) was usually there so could have rolled the jaffas (no chance, he would have eaten them – ed)

Its funny thinking that Richard was there. I didn’t know him much before University but he went to similar primary and intermediate schools to me and the same secondary school. We are only 8 days apart in age and it seems shared the same interest in films so it is very likely that he was watching The Longest Day or Zulu at the same time that I was.

I remember that the music from the pending film was played before the film and at the interval. This helped to set the mood. When the lights were finally dimmed and the curtains opened fully wide to show the big screen there was more than a hush throughout the audience, there was a communal imperceptible intake of breath. Magic. For me I would, from the first few frames, be in the desert with Lawrence, on the Yangtze in 1926 or in Spain with El Cid. I always had a good imagination and was able to daydream well so it was no problem getting totally lost for a couple of hours.

As I grew older I still loved films and have seen a good many of really good ones over the years but the sense of wonder, the ability to become totally absorbed and lost in the films was special to those few years of the early 1960’s.

MAKING NO SENSE

Have you ever had a migraine headache? I have had a few in my life, a couple of them real doozies. About 18 years ago I had a really bad one and I thought that I had a stroke. I couldn't see properly and could not make any sense. A bad migraine results in aura where vision is like a kaleidoscope. It is impossible to speak properly, read or write or drive a car.

Yesterday I had a bad migraine as bad as that one 18 years ago. I actually did think that I had a stroke. I had aura and then a bad headache. I couldn't see properly and then could not write or read. I tried to read the blogs and they made no sense at all (admittedly they were Richard (of RBB's) and TSB's). I went to bed at about 7.30 to try and sleep it off. The phone rang at 8.30 and I was hoping it was the Old Girl ringing from Auckland. It was a friend of ours and I could not understand what he was saying. He wanted the Old Girl's cell-phone number and I couldn't remember it. I must have sounded quite bizarre as I remember saying "Good-bye, I'm unwell" and hanging up. I tried to ring the Old Girl and dialled something really different (an overseas number I think). The Old Girl had been out at a formal dinner and when she rang I must have scared her because I couldn't speak properly. She wanted to come straight home but I convinced here to stay. I slept for about 11 hours and have been gradually coming right today. I have to really concentrate when reading and writing though. I looked at somethings I wrote and they don't make any sense at all. I wouldn't wish this on anybody.

DIY

TSB and SF are on at me to fix things myself around the house instead of waiting for tradesmen to do it. They seem to have a lot more confidence in me than the Old Girl has. She is always saying 'let's get a man in' when some repair work or building needs to be done (at least I think that is what she's referring to). I learned my DIY skills from my dad who gave proof to the old adage that tradesmen's own houses were always in the worst repair. Dad had a successful plastering business and there are still lots of constructions in Wellington that he built (Oriental Bay fountain, lots of Government buildings and the (then) modernistic Ian Athfield houses). He was meticulous when building things for other people but around home he was rough as guts. I remember once when he installed an expandable reading light (probably got it from the tip) in his and mum's bedroom. He simply hammered it to the wall with a couple of 8" nails. It wobbled and sagged, eventually tearing out big chunks of plaster when it finally fell off. Mum was a painter and we had lots of artwork on the walls. These were always nailed on so there were always holes in the walls.
I tend to take shortcuts when building or repairing things, not having the patience to measure properly or finish things off. Close enough is good enough is my motto so its no wonder that I'm told to just leave it alone.

It is quite telling that at our house the tool kit is owned by the Old Girl and I'm not allowed to touch it.

*WARNING*

By the way, be careful if doing an image search like I did for rough tradesmen. It seems that Rough Trade is some sort of homosexual practice so there were some pretty bizarre images. What's that all about Richard?

CREATING A MONSTER

Or a Cookie Monster to be precise.

The Old Girl gave me a simple recipe for biscuits so each week I have been making a different flavoured batch. Butterscotch, Caramel, Raspberry, Chocolate-Fudge, Strawberry, White Chocolate and Raspberry - basically anything in the cupboard or that can be purchased as instant dessert flavouring. I suggested using up the surplus vegetables that I've grown particularly the lettuce and spring onion. I was told that that was silly and that my cookie-making prowess would be in danger.

ISLAND TIME

Bula! Talofa! Kia Ora! Malo e lelei!

Living up North has many benefits, not the least the weather. There is a nice casual feeling to everything here. You can; dress in shorts and tee-shirt; say you are going fishing or golfing without sounding like a skiver; most food items are cheaper than Auckland; car parking is no problem; most parking meters when you have to use one work on 20 cents per hour; there are no traffic jams. Its almost a holiday atmosphere not too different from my experiences in the various Pacific Islands. The problem is though that the 'Island Time' syndrome exists here too. Island Time is where deadliness are rarely set or adhered to and there is an attitude of "what's the hurry, tomorrow will do". This can be frustrating when ordering something to be delivered, trying to organise a tradesman to build or fix something and generally trying to get things done. "Gone fishing" is the best advertising strap-line that most Northland builders, plumbers and electricians should adopt.

When we first moved up here, as we bought an old villa that has precious few built-in wardrobes, we got a builder in to measure and quote. He eventually came and measured spending a good couple of hours here. This was 10 months ago and we have never heard from him since. Maybe he went fishing and a Great White got him.

We have been waiting on a carpenter to come back and install a decent sized study bench for us. He measured and quoted a couple of months ago and we agreed a price. In frustration the Old Girl gave him a hurry up a couple of days ago and he assured us he would be here today at 12 Noon. I asked if he could make it 1PM as I was playing golf this morning. No he said it had to be Noon. I played in a Wednesday tournament which was important to me as I need to submit completed rounds cards to get my handicap down. Play was a bit slow though so I had to abandon the round after 14 holes to get back home before Noon. I was a bit pissed off because not only was I playing well enough to reduce the handicap by a lot of points I had played a couple of holes particularly well enough to win a prize or two. I probably would have won best net score and Stableford as well. I got home before Noon and there was no sign of the carpenter. Its now after 2PM and still no show. If he's gone fishing I hope a Great White is nearby.