Random Play by Graham Reid

In a shock announcement yesterday the Minister for Unintentional Humour David Benson Pope announced the government is concerned about the stress Christmas causes for many families and may consider cancelling it.

“Every year we see families under financial pressure, there are marital disputes, kiddies not getting an X-Box and so on. This takes a terrible toll, not only on families but also on social services, the SPCA dealing with pets abandoned when people go off to the beach homes on the Coromandel, and frayed nerves in the retail sector.

“Every year we have reports from women’s refuge organisations which show a sudden increase in their client base, and from retailers who say people are leaving their buying until the last minute -- and this causes them considerable problems.

"Retailers for example complain every year that it looks like pre-Christmas profits will be down, but then have to put up with astonishing sales in the last week.

“This creates considerable uncertainty in the retail sector and the public should be sympathetic to that.

“So as a government we are saying people should shape up a bit, and if we see a repeat of last year’s behaviour then we’ll be giving serious thought to introducing legislation into the House which would cancel Christmas entirely.”

Benson Pope’s announcement has found favour in a number of sectors.

Head of the Liberal Association for Sensitive Legislation Ms Kiri Sunderland says the government may well be reflecting the changing nature of New Zealand society.

“It used to be that this was a predominantly Christian country but that is no longer the case. Christmas in its many manifestations like holidays, gift-giving and good cheer can be offensive to those who do not share a belief in Christ. For these people this is an especially difficult time during which they may feel marginalised and under pressure to be happy over a holiday period not of their own choosing.

“As a society we need to be more sensitive to the needs of migrant peoples. Abandoning the ritual and commercialism of Christmas would go a long way to make them feel more welcome. It’s not like people need holidays at that time anyway.

“Staggered holidays makes more sense, you could take your three week break and go to the beach in July for example.”

Somewhat surprisingly a few Christian groups have also agreed with Benson Pope and have suggested that by banning Christmas the commercialisation of the celebration will be diminished.

“This is a day to rejoice in the birth of our saviour Jesus Christ,” said the Reverend
James de Pifilco yesterday, “and increasingly it has become a reason to sell bicycles, pornography and DVDs by Mel Gibson. I for one welcome the banning of all overt acknowledgement of the birth of Christ to allow people to celebrate in silence in their own homes.

“I don’t think it is going too far to say all shops, use of private motor vehicles, public transport and any outdoor activity should also be banned for a period around the actual birthday of Christ which was, as we all know, December 25th -- or thereabouts.”

Organisations representing the under-privileged, animal welfare, disgruntled consumers and those who have to work through the Christmas holidays have also offered their support in banning Christmas.

“There are far too many people in this country who just want to have fun,” says Hilda Mappleston of the anti-Enjoyment League. “We have seen people have parties with friends, and enjoy barbecues on beaches and in public parks with little thought of the consequences, or for the opinion of others.

“It is a well known fact that there is a lot of domestic violence and unhappy wee kiddies at this time, and so for those reasons alone Christmas should be banned.

“Most people don’t even know what it is we are supposed to be celebrating, they just enjoy themselves. Every year thousands of people get out and have fun, and you just know that someone somewhere -- or a kitten -- will get hurt.

"It's all fun and games until someone loses an eye.

“If we need to have any such celebrations they should be done in public parks under close supervision of local authorities and the police. We need more restrictions in this country to curtail enjoyment and fun, not fewer.”

Mr Benson Pope said that a survey of people who never much enjoyed Christmas supports his opinion and so unless people behave themselves responsibly this festive season he will be introducing legislation when the House resumes after the Christmas holidays.

The hidden costs of living in a leaky building are legion, but today we were dealt a bitter and somewhat personal blow.

But first let me backtrack a little and explain how costs can mount beyond the mere bill for repairs (in our case a tidy $60,000 or thereabouts, plus interest over 10 years).

Yesterday I was told that it would realistically be another month before all the scaffolding is down, the painting done and the drains re-dug.

So that is another month in which I will work wearing builder’s ear muffs to block out the noise of saws and radios, and another few weeks living under canvas which means another high power bill because you need lights on during the day and heating because the walls are now wafer thin until they finish the re-cladding. Another month in which dust fills the house so your home is not only a depressing place to be but often quite unhealthy.

My cough cleared up when I was in Canada, Megan -- who stayed at home -- still has hers. Hmmm.

So we have another month in which stuff stays in storage at $104, another month of getting so miserable you can’t be bothered cleaning dust off the bench to cook so you order a pizza or go out for dinner to cheer yourself up and to avoid looking at drop cloths over your furniture.

Another month . . .

Yep, all of these are hidden human and financial costs. And if you think I’m whinging . . . Well, yes I am.

We’ve lived like this since December 17 last year.

My “office” (ie laptop, notebooks and dictionary) has moved three times within the house as I tried to find a quieter and cleaner corner to work in.

But life isn’t so bad. We’ve still got our . . . . Oh, actually we haven’t even got that, right?

But today was a bitter one. One of the builders in the courtyard said, “Pity about your car” as I went outside to get the paper and see Megan off to work.

Because we can’t use our garage we have to park in the street -- and during the night some shitbags had come and taken a tyre. One single tyre -- and the bolts, of course.

So we have spent the morning trying to loosen the bolts on the other tyres to use them to put on the cheap spare (one of those thin things that looks like a bicycle tyre and you aren’t supposed to drive for more than a few kilometres).

I had to go to the local service station to borrow some gear to get the bolts off -- they’d been put on by a machine and were immovable -- and then we had to go to another place to get new bolts and hopefully a tyre.

That guy wasn’t there so we sat in the car waiting, and finally gave up and came home.

We listened to a discussion of the smacking debate -- and all I could think of is that I want to belt someone across the face with a spanner.

I wonder if it was the same shits who broke into 13 cars behind the service station the other night, the same people who lifted four Mag wheels off the neighbour’s car, the same ones who broke into another neighbour’s car parked on the street?

So today Megan couldn’t go to work and loses a day’s pay we can ill-afford not to have, and I’m so pissed off I can’t get on with what I need to do to earn money -- and we still haven’t got the tyre replaced. That will have to wait until the guy opens his shop and we can get back there.

Meantime we are sorely miffed (if I might speak so strongly) and we’ve written the morning off. One of my fingers is bleeding and I‘m mad as hell.

The builders have been great and offered to help. And I want to say they are all terrific guys so if you have to live in a leaky building I’m recommending these cheerful, nice guys.

But today we really have to get out of here.

We are going to cheer ourselves up by going to a cathartic movie. We’re off to see Out of the Blue. That should do it.

But it’s another hidden cost of living in a leaky building.

(An update later in the day! Neil who is trying to locate a tyre and rim has put me straight: they not "bolts" they are "nuts" that I need -- shows how little I know about such things -- and that also, and this is his official line, "the fuggin' country's gone down the drain, mate".
I couldn't bring myself to disagree.)

According to a statistic I heard last night -- admittedly in park not a monitored study -- 68 per cent of inbound visitors to Canada express a desire to have contact with Native Americans.

Hardly surprising really given that -- as with Maori in New Zealand -- if you don't see Canadian Native Americans in Canada then you are unlikely to encounter them or their culture anywhere else.

So like that majority, I too was keen to meet and talk with Native Americans -- aka First Nation, Aborigine or Indian depending on who is talking.

But it isn't as easy as you might think. First Nation people are largely invisible, and not just in the bigger cities. I also assumed I'd be talking photos of totem poles all over the place but that hasn't been the case either.

So last night's encounter with Robert and Lee from Calgary, in Kelowna for an arts conference, was a particularly happy one.

You didn't need to be too bright to spot they were First Nation people: Robert's dark complexion, long hair hanging in braids bound with twine was pretty much a giveaway.

So we chatted about this and that, why they were an invisible people and so on. You probably know the answers as well as I did.

But then something else came up: years ago Lee had been befriended by a New Zealand woman whose son had been in Canada skiing and had been paralysed in a downhill accident.

The mother had come over, Lee had made sure the son had met First Nation people who came to the hospital to see him (he'd been keen to meet them and they weren't going to let paralysis stop that) but when they went back to Auckland Lee lost contact.

She was keen to pick it up again, so I said I'd do my best. The son's name was Leon (I have the surname but won't give it here) but if anything in that sounds familiar then I'd love to know. I'll be looking them up when I get back.

So it was a wonderful chance encounter and a nice commonality of humanity was established. (I had a less friendly, more business-like one today in a shop selling Native American crafts, but it didn't stop me buying some gifts).

And the night got better with a beautiful wine tasting and meal at Frescoes restaurant here in town about which I intend to write in more detail when I have a chance. If you are coming here don't miss it -- or The Grateful Fed for brunch, a real 60s/70s hangout.

But now it is a day of wine tasting in the Okanaga vineyards. And to think I do this for a "job".

This happens to me -- as I'm sure it does to you -- every time I travel: what was once the familiar and mundane becomes the interesting and engaging because of the changed context.

For example, I have been driving the Sunshine Coast and Vancouver Island* in Canada with the radio tuned to CK-FM, an ad-free, public service station which plays classic hits and offers updates on traffic, ferry sailings and what the local theatre groups are up to.

I now know what precautions I should take in this season when bears are on the prowl for food. (Seal your garbage, store in a safe place.)

Fascinating, but it's also the classic hits which have kept me amused: this isn't the Eagles/Fleetwood Mac vortex we are forced to endure back home, but one-off popular songs I know off-by-heart but can never remember who sang (and they seldom back-announce).

So I get to sing along to that one which has the memorable chorus "that's what I like about you", classic disco-soul from Tavares, and so on. It makes the miles of over-achieving Mother Nature go by effortlessly.

Oddly enough this also adds lustre to the familiar. I even listened right through to Bryan Adams' Summer of '69 which I would probably never do at home. I guess it is the clear mountain air, blue skies and powerful Buick beneath me ** which make for a more condusive listening environment.

The other thing I love about this kind of travel is that I pick up local papers and discover things that aren't mentioned at home.

Hell, I even know the name of the Canadian PM now (Stephen Harper in case you too were in the dark).

And then there are the snippets. Here's a partial list gleaned from various papers.

+ The mayors of Whistler and Squamish joined Vancouver's 2010 Olympics organisers to support the plan to house Games media in a cruise ship docked in Squamish, despite the IOC giving the idea the thumbs down. (Can you imagine that? Whadda party boat!!)

+ Taxpayers in British Columbia will foot the bill for the Olympics to the tune of about $1.5 billion according to an Auditor General's report, which discredits the provincial government's claim it would only cost $600 million. (Eden Park blowouts anyone?)

+ The play Broue set in a working class bar in Quebec has become the world's longest-running play with the same cast. The three guys have been doing it since March 1979 and have performed it 2,726 times. (More by the time you read this, I guess.)

+ The US has been using the Great Lakes for live ammo training for Coast Guard personnel, thus giving the lie to the old phrase "the longest undefended border in the world". Since the start of the year they have conducted 24 drills firing 3000 rounds of live ammo at least eight km from Canada's border.

+ There are no millionaires in the Forbes rich list of the top 400 Americans anymore. Forbes started running the list in 1982. Twenty-five years ago there were only 13 billionaires on the list, but since then marginal tax rates for the rich have fallen from 60 per cent to 35 per cent.

+ There are more blond, healthy looking people per square metre in Whistler than anywhere else in the world outside Sweden. (Actually I made that up, it just feels like that.)

So right now I am in lovely Whistler between mountain-bike and ski seasons so the place is nice and quiet, although a number of restaurants are closed.

But last night I ate (the only person in the place) at the superb Apres, a French restaurant where I had the foie gras. There is a raging controversy here about foie gras (from Quebec). There was film of a duck being force-fed grain and people were outraged. (Where did they think it came from?)

So I had foie gras -- but no spinach. Spinach is off after someone died from E.coli in the States.

Afterwards I went back to my room and scanned the fortysomething channels trying to find news. I gave up, although I was tempted to try Juicy Juggs or Exxxstacy Island 2 (and I haven't even seen Exxxstacy Island 1).

So there's not a lot to do sports-wise in Whistler right now, as if I was ever going to. I'll drive to the top of a few mountains, go to more beautiful lakes and may head to Pemberton where some Native American people live -- who are conspicious by their absence -- and see what they think about the million dollar property boom in and around Whistler and the Sunshine Coast.

I guess as the original occupants of this beautiful and once bountiful land they must be really coining it in on rent, right?

* Sorry Shayne. I know you read public address to get news and views from home. Last minute change of plan took me to the island within an hour of your beautiful lodge up there among the eagles and bears on Forbidden Plateau, but I had to shoot straight through Courtney for a night in Parksville before catching the morning ferry back to the mainland. Next time bro'.

** And for further reports from Canada and the monster Buick I am drving you can check houseoftravel.co.nz where I am also writing a running blog.

And keep those recipes coming, Recipes From Elsewhere is gonna be great. And of course I have some superb, envy-inducing new photos for Windows on Elsewhere. There is new Music From Elsewhere posted now too, I did it by remote. Check it out, there's a lovely thing by Barry Humphries!
It's all at www.elsewhere.co.nz

Righto, sun beckons -- and so does CK-FM.

So five years on from 9/11 and what have we learned? Mostly that with heightened security arrangements we have yet to figure out a way of getting masses of people through airports without causing frustration, delays and rancour.

As one who likes to fly -- yes, the seats are still uncomfortable but someone feeds you, brings you drinks, there are movie choices and no cellphones, so what's not to like? -- I applaud any security measure or caution about safety that will ensure a safe flight.

If any flight is held up because a light in the cockpit is acting funny I say they should reeeeeally take their time to sort it out.

I for one would prefer to wait for them to be fully satisfied than for me to get to the Final Destination Of Life a bit before I am ready.

But what irks -- and the other day it was REALLY irking passengers in Auckland and SanFran -- is when you spend a long and uncomfortable time in queues waiting to be ticketed or pass through security.

In Auckland there were only four people working the ticketing desks when at least the same number of flights were departing in the next hour or two. There were dozens of increasingly angry people standing around for what seemed like an age. (Fifty minutes in my case to get up the serpentine line to the desk.)

People around me were getting very tetchy and wondering aloud why the airline couldn't have put on maybe one or two more counter staff to get the line moving. I'm sure there 's a good explanation -- which to any of us in that queue would simply sound like an excuse.

For many people flying is harrowing enough: they are often farewelling loved ones; are fearful; don't much care for the chicken-or-beef option . . .

Moving people efficiently through an airport should not be beyond the bounds of human capability.

Gotta say it was MUCH worse in SanFran however: I stood in a crowd -- not even a queue -- as at least a dozen United flights were set depart within 90 minutes. And there were only three security lines working.

The American Solution is an interesting one however: rather than employ more security people and open up more security lines they do what you see happen so often in the States.

They employ more people in uniforms -- often very large middle-aged women -- who stand around and yell at you to have your tickets ready and some form of photo ID available.

(I leave it over to you to see the metaphor for foreign policy here.)

One poor guy attempted to ask one of these women for help and got brutal treatment.

"Sir, you know what I need? What I need is for you to take a step back and allow me to keep these other people moving. We have lines here we need to take care of."

Ironically there were no lines. What they had was three deceptively short artifical barriers so you were guided towards one of these (a queue almost formed) but then as people shuffled foward the barriers disappeared and people became an annoyed crowd again.

Lines formed as we neared the place where we all had to take our shoes and jackets off. You can imagine how that slowed things down, watching obese old ladies trying to take off their trainers isn't not a pretty sight.

(Residents of Auckland's North Shore who travel down Onewa Rd to the city will know this experience of funnelling traffic into one lane.)

Tempers were fraying as people thought they might miss their flights.

Inefficiencies were everywhere: Hell, these people hadn't even thought they might need more than one rubbish bin to take all the water bottles and containers that people were being told to discard.

So amidst the confusion of the "queue" you also had to step over bottles and plastic containers.

None of this puts people off air travel because for most it is just something they have to do.

But you'd think a little more committment to customer comfort amidst the safety precautions might not go amiss. They are not mutually exclusive.

I'm going through all this in about 10 days and since 9/11 -- I flew to the States just a month later -- I have learned to be even more patient than I usually am. These days you have no choice -- you might get barked at by a lady in a uniform who loves to wield very little bit of power she has.

So it has been five years since 9/11 and what have we learned?

Lots of things of course -- but it has also been almost four decades since a man first walked on the moon.

I doubt Neil Armstrong would want to bother with going through an airport these days.

[PS: thanks for those who sent recipes, keep 'em coming. And do I miss politics at home? Not really, a politician here who allegedly had dead constituents on the roll is blaming the opposition for using dirty tactics or something. As (some) say around here in Vancouver: "Plus ca change".]