But Gin Wigmore? That was funny as hell.
I didn’t see much of the live show, but I did see this. It’s the closest we’ll ever come to a Kanye/Swift moment, and I fuckin’ loved it.
Maybe the cringes missed this interview from a while back?
‘I like fanny!’ Brilliant.
This just seems like a badly-written attempt to tip bile over everything.
Maybe someone didn't get the VIP press pass to the live event they expected. :-)
Whatever happens here next, thanks everybody, it’s been great
Love your work Lilith. I got something in my eye.
I think Maori have a great advantage with always having a ‘home’ on one or several marae.
I totally get this. Through my grandparents, who now rest in an urupā above Whitianga Bay near Te Kaha, we have a connection to the Marae there. However, time and distance means this connection has become tenuous, at least in my mind. I think in Māori it is called ‘whakamā’, which translates to shame or embarrassment, but I think in this case related to the feeling of disconnection from a place where you once stood, to coin a phrase. I had that feeling quite significantly the first time I returned there after 15 years, and although it diminished during two tangi and an unveiling, time and distance are growing again, and those who remember who I am are fewer and further between.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately, and appreciate the chance to share it with others. I have often thought I should write it down in more detail, even if only for my own benefit. Maybe one day.
Tautoko all. These stories are beautiful.
What we Pakeha New Zealanders don’t have is a turangawaewae
This is an interesting thing, as I kind of feel like we do.
Literally tūranga (standing place), waewae (feet), it is often translated as ‘a place to stand’. Tūrangawaewae are places where we feel especially empowered and connected. They are our foundation, our place in the world, our home.
My home journey started in Opotiki, where my grandparents also lived 100 meters up the road, and my foster uncle and family, where we had our annual Christmas hangi, were across town.
We then moved briefly (6 months) to Manurewa on the way to Whakatane when I was 7, until leaving high school for Auckland again 10 years later. The Eastern Bay of Plenty connection has remained, with family, friends, and extended whanau still there, or resting in various places, including on the East Cape.
When I think of where I belong,, or where I feel “especially empowered and connected”, it would still have to be Ohope Beach, and the areas around it, in spite having now been in Auckland longer than anywhere else. It’s just something that feels right. So many formative memories; the sea; Moutohorā / Whale Island and Whakaari / White Island; swimming, surfing, nearly drowning (both in the Waimana river and at the beach); walking with friends and family for hours on the beach. We still go back there at least once a year.
Our actual home in Auckland, we moved into just this June after 10 years in the previous house. What became apparent after the move is although the new spaces are better, and some added features are nice, what makes the home is the things you bring with you. Like the books, music, coffee machine, and of course the people.
Home is definitely where my people are, which is why PA also feels like home.
Thanks Russ. This is timely.
I questioned my own involvement in the fracas you refer to, and will be mindful of what you say. I also felt something nostalgic about the community at the time. Overall, this has been a sanctuary from an uncaring world, and I hope it endures. Which will depend on the ‘people’.
A story. On Saturday I ended up in A&E after breaking my foot in an unfortunate ‘middle aged man plays tennis for first time in several years’ incident.
I shared the story, mostly in a self-deprecating humour way, on Twitter, but as is often the case in my experience, I received nothing but empathetic comments, and sympathy, including from you, Fiona, Emma, Lilith, Danielle, Jackie… etc. At the time, it was just what I needed.
And as you will note, the core of the people were all those met through Public Address, and then their friends connecting online through Twitter.
This place has been amazing for me. Just wanted to share that.
Thank you, and Arohanui all.
Sardines for everything!
Okay. Let me then appeal to you on behalf of your children. What’s important is getting them to like sardines from an early age, and this relies on you eating them too.
Are you just taking the piss now? Let the sardines go! Also, you have offended a large portion of people on here by your presumptions. You could perhaps reflect on that and stop.
Speaking of sardines.
Some of us think life’s a bit like that, don’t we? But it isn’t. Life, you know, is rather like opening a tin of sardines. We all of us are looking for the key. And I wonder how many of you here tonight have wasted years of your lives looking behind the kitchen dressers of this life for that key. I know I have. Others think they’ve found the key, don’t they? They roll back the lid of the sardine tin of life. They reveal the sardines—the riches of life—therein, and they get them out, and they enjoy them. But, you know, there’s always a little bit in the corner you can’t get out. I wonder is there a little bit in the corner of your life? I know there is in mine.
From Beyond the Fringe
Apologies if I’m not taking this seriously enough. It’s Friday, and I’ve had a helluva week.