2010 - the year that was...

Dear All
Sorry about the group letter everyone, but as 2010 draws to an end and 2011 fast approaches, time seems to have run out on me so here we go.
[And to be truthful, not only does it save me from having to write the same thing over and over again in countless Christmas letters, but more importantly, it gives me a fantastic opportunity to skite about things that have happened during the year to as many people as possible!]
The year started brilliantly with the opening of Parliament in February – let’s face it, only politicians can get away with starting their work year a whole month later than everyone else!). This year has seen young John go from strength to strength, while not so young Phil has gone from bad to bloody awful!
Unfortunately, we saw a number of political causalities during year – apart from the truth, honesty and the Labour Party’s ever-shrinking poll numbers. The first to feel the heat was the former high flying – literally and figuratively – socialist and self-appointed gay icon and martyr Chris!
His demise came after first refusing to admit he’d been somewhat lax with the taxpayer’s purse during his stellar ministerial career, which saw him take frequent overseas holidays and even buy flowers for his life partner. However, Chris thought there was nothing wrong with his regular breaks on sun-drenched Islands and lavishing his favourite friend with floral tributes care of the taxpayer and was rather miffed when Phil sent him to the sin bin.
He repaid his beleaguered leader’s only decisive act of the year by penning an anonymous letter to the press gallery claiming there was going to be a coup against poor old Phil. However, this claim turned out about as reliable as the NZ cricket team’s batting line up. This led Chris to be eventually expelled from the Labour Party, but I’m still at a loss to know if this was actually a punishment or a reward for his churlish behaviour!
Speaking of horrible ACTs biting the dust; David Garret’s end was – much like him – short and nasty. His youthful imitation of a bad Fredrick Forsyth novel plot saw his political career die faster than the dead infant’s identity which he had stolen for a fake passport all those years ago.
And while we are on the subject of no great losses to Parliament, I should mention the hurried exit from politics of Pansy at the year’s end. It seems Pansy’s husband Sammy’s ability to run up frequent flyer miles on the taxpayer will have more of a lasting impact on the national political scene than anything she ever did during the past 14 years!
We couldn’t do a review of 2010 without discussing the rather bad luck that Allan and Jean had during the year with South Canterbury Finance. Let’s face it; we have all misplaced a few dollars in our time. Admittedly, losing $1.7 billion with the demise of SCF is a little more than your average loss – but who is counting when a financial genius like Allan is managing the abacus!
Of course we were so proud of the political theatrics this year of both Lucy and Robyn, who put their vast and huge knowledge of economics and geology to put an end to any further mining in New Zealand. We are just so thankful and grateful to have such all-knowing, environmental experts; who both just happen to be actresses. Again, we were so delighted to see Robyn excel in her other role as a top-notch trade negotiator and almost pull-off exporting $500 million worth of US investment in NZ movie making to Eastern Europe. Unfortunately, John and Gerry jumped in at the last minute and prevented her from single-handedly down-sizing the local film making industry, but she did give it an almighty go.
Paul had a real up and down 2010. First he was voted television personality of the year and then after innocently questioning the heritage of the Governor General and mispronouncing some dipshit Indian politician’s name he was a gone-burger! Fickle business that television industry.
Then, near the end of the year, we had poor old Christchurch get dealt a terrible blow when Granddad Jim decided to cash in national politics and run for mayor. Thankfully, nature intervened with the 7.9 earthquake that hit the city bringing both the central city and Jim’s political career crashing down. As the old military saying goes – sometimes you have to destroy a village to save it!
At the same time, Auckland became a super city and got a former Southside lawyer named Len – who looks like he wears his underpants over his trousers – as its new mayor. I am not sure if Auckland’s new super mayor is faster than a speeding locomotive, but we know he likes trains and is really keen for the rest of the country to pay for them!
Finally, the year ended with the biggest news of all – that Corin and Petra would be replacing Paul and Pippa on Breakfast TV. How exciting and vitally important – not!
So that is it for 2010. Let’s hope 2011 is as exciting and fun-filled.
All the best to you and yours for the Christmas and New Year break.

The Goff that keeps on goofing

The National Government has got to love Labour leader Phil Goff.
The hapless leader of the Opposition is like an eternal Christmas present to John Key and his team – he’s the gift that keeps on giving – or the Goff who keeps on goofing!
Poor old Phil has spent the last two years struggling to make any dent in the opinion polls and leading a Party that is so out of touch with the punters that it could not feel its own pulse in an ambulance let alone that of the electorate’s.
So far, during his less that illustrious tenure as leader of the Opposition, we have seen Goff lurch from one crisis to another
However, his latest gaffe has got to be the most embarrassing story of the year for the bumbling Goff. Yesterday, media reports revealed that Goff is still collecting rent from a Wellington apartment he owns, while pocketing a taxpayer allowance to live in another place. This is despite promising last year to sell the apartment.
Goff has owned the property for years and has been letting it since he was a minister in the previous government, when he was living in a ministerial house (care of the taxpaer). However, last year he pledged to sell the apartment when criticising Deputy Prime Minister Bill English for his perceived double-dipping. While within the parliamentary rules, English was receiving almost $1000 a week in accommodation allowances while living in his own home in Wellington, because he had declared his primary residence in Dipton in his electorate of Clutha-Southland.
After a huge public outcry – led by Goff and Labour - English repaid $32,000 and no longer claims any accommodation allowance.
At this time, other ministers - and Goff himself - also came under media fire for moving out of their Wellington apartments, then renting them out while claiming accommodation allowances.
"The flat is currently tenanted and I plan to sell it," Goff told media last year.
However, in the year to September 2010, Goff has claimed $20,214 in accommodation allowances.
As Cabinet Minister Gerry Brownlee said; it's not a good look for someone who had taken a hard-line on MP housing rorts last year to be taking advanatge of it himself.
So how has Goff reacted since been caught with his finger's in the taxpayers' till? Instead of owning up and admitting his mistake, he's whingeing that he's the subject of a politically-motivated sting.
"Four people have viewed the property in the past fortnight with a view to renting. One of those people was a friend of Jason Ede, a senior National staffer working in the Prime Minister's office.
Well boo-hoo Phil, isn’t that the nature of – you know – politics! And I suppose that you were not playing politics last year when you were putting the boot into English?
And here in lies Goff's problem and what makes this current situation such a bad look. It was he and his Labour colleagues who took the moral high ground and really went after English last year - accussing him of “double dipping” (as explained earlier it within rules – as Goff's now claiming about his current housing rort). They made political capital out of English’s predicament and still do to this day. But if you live by the sword, you risk ending up also dying by the sword - eh Phil!
In fact, Goff was so ‘holier than thou’ about the English issue, that he claimed that he would 'lead by example'
Yet, after getting busted yesterday, Goff kept on defending his own housing arrangement.
"My accommodation arrangements are within Parliamentary rules. There is no rort here," he said.
If there was ever an example of someone being hoisted by their own petard; this has got to be it.
Sorry Phil, but if this is ‘leading by example’ then your days are numbered!
However, this is something that John Key and National will not want. Goff is National’s equivalent the gift horse that keeps looking them in the mouth and – as stated earlier – dear old Phil keeps on delivering.
He has little chance of leading Labour to victory next year and Labour has no chance of winning with Goff (or with anyone else for that matter)at the helm! National will be praying that Labour keep Goff in charge – as he will be one of the Government’s best weapons in their bid to get re-elected in 2011.
Happy Christmas Phil!

No inkling to get inked!

As the summer finally dawn upon us, I’m starting to find myself in a growing minority among the wider population.
The lack of any ink adorning my body ie: my serious shortage of tattoos!
Now the days are undoubtedly getting longer and hotter, it not only means the girls’ dresses and tops are also getting shorter (bless). While, at the same time, blokes are discarding their shirts and other cover as they seek out some much needed sun and vitamin D.
In spite of these very pleasant (and in some cases, not so) sights, what I am really beginning to notice is the preponderance of both males and females sporting tattoos as they shed their clothing and saunter down our sunlight beaches and streets.
Back in the day— this was not that long ago; tattoos were mainly reserved for the likes of sailors, bikers and crims. Primarily, those among the wider population who were deemed a bit dodgy could only ever get away with sporting a tough sticker or two with any real credibility! Unless of course they happened to be from the Islands and where tattoos were part of their culture.
Actually, among my peers, skinny white guys with tattoos were seen as so gauche that we often labelled them a with the rather innocuous acronym: ‘TPOS’ – which stood for a ‘Tattooed Piece of Shit’!
Not so much, anymore. In fact, nowadays, it is we – the tattoo-less ones – who appear to be outside the mainstream, as being inked-up has become de-rigueur among the young, trendy and beautiful (definitely three categories where I miss out!).
One can hardly open a newspaper, read a magazine article or watch a TV programme featuring some super model; Hollywood movie star; hot-shot All Black or top-line cricketer (admittedly the latter is a rarity in New Zealand these days), without the requisite photo shoot or accompanying pictures revealing said hero’s obligatory skin art.
What is even becoming more noticeable is the number of females – both attractive and not so attractive (as well as young and not so young) – who are bearing some kind of body art. Apparently, it is not just biker moles and prostitutes who model tramp stamps nowadays. For the uninitiated, ‘tramp stamps’ are those tattoos that appear just above base of the bum and are on show for all the world to see whenever a girl decides to display a reasonable slice of builder’s crack.
These days, it seems every second women believes having a tramp stamp is not only very trendy, but a necessity to display the modern-day, women’s sense of individuality. (Obviously the irony that just about every other women having one as well appears to have escaped Miss Individuality’s notice in her quest for uniqueness!)
However, while all the ‘too cool for school’ crew may think having this week’s girlfriend’s name indelibly plastered across their backs; the date when their favourite rock band last came to town etched forever on their chest; or even the name of the outcome of a drunken copulation engraved into their bicep, the sheer abundance of people with tattoos seems to have made these walking ink works more cliché than chic!
And let’s not forget – tattoos are forever! That indelible image of Puff the Magic Dragon embedded on your left shoulder might have sounded like a great idea – and even looked kind of cool – when drunk as a skunk and away on a weekend visit to Sydney when you are 19. However, I am betting , it will not look quite as cool or be deemed that wonderful of an idea when examined in the cold, sober light of your grand children’s’ queries some 50 years later!
I am happy I have no inkling to get inked up. I think the double dose of pain – first from getting the tattoo etched on; and secondly having to look at it every day for the rest of my life – will help to keep me tattoo free!

Ashes to ashes!

Australia's Ashes hopes are in tatters after its last-day capitulation at the Adelaide Oval allowed England to take a crucial 1-nil series lead. (Newspaper report 7 December 7, 2010)

There are fewer sweeter things in the cricketing world than witnessing the spectacle of a once arrogant, all-conquering and dominant Australian team sliding from near invincibility to vulnerability and humility.
I am pretty certain (well as certain as anyone can ever be in making predictions about the outcome of a yet to be concluded sporting fixture), that the current Ashes test series being played out between England and Australia is seeing this happen. The result of the second Test at Adelaide, a loss by an innings and 71 runs, (an absolute thumping in cricket terms) is Australia's first innings loss to England since the Boxing Day Test of 1986.
The hapless Aussies must now win at least two of the last three tests of the series to win back the Ashes. However, England only has to win any of the last three matches to make it impossible for Australia to win back the famous urn, as a drawn series would go in favour of the current holder: England.
Those who do not know or care about cricket are unlikely to understand the significance of what is currently happening in Australia. For those of us who enjoy the wonderful theatre that surrounds the game of cricket – or chess on grass for the uninitiated – this is as big as it gets.
For years, probably since the mid to late 1980s, Australia has been the most dominant force and consistent winning team in international cricket. The men who have donned the baggy green caps during this time have stood atop of the mountain of world cricket, mostly uncontested, dispatching would-be challengers with ruthless efficiency and gaining an arrogant swagger that only a champion team – which knows it is a champion team – can muster.
Over this time Australia has produced too numerous world-class players to count like: Border, Waugh, Boone, Marsh, Waugh (Steve), Taylor, Warne, Waugh (Mark – who was dubbed ‘Afghanistan’ ie: the forgotten war as it was then in the late ‘80s), Jones, McGrath, Gilchrist, Matthews, Healy etc, etc the list goes on and on! The fact was that Australia was so dominate during this period that, at their peak , they could have produced two – possibly three – teams at the same time and still will have beaten anyone else who played them.
But the halcyon days for Australian cricket look to be well and truly over. As Ricky Ponting’s current team look decidedly average – not as bad or talent –free as New Zealand’s black caps – and is facing an uphill battle against the in-form Poms.
I think this is a good thing for the game of cricket.
As a non-partisan follower of the current Ashes series, I believe the end of Australia’s two and bit decade of utter domination of world cricket is great for breathing new life into the noble art of battling willow on leather.
Normally, I wouldn’t be seen dead cheering for an English sporting team of any hue. However, in the case of the current Ashes series I am joining with the Barmy Army and loudly singing “Rule Britannia” as the Poms do a job on their Australian cricketing colleagues!

Annoying family really... annoying!

Is it me or is the faux family: “The Colemans” – dreamed up by the marketing gurus for the Countdown/Foodtown supermarket chain – without doubt the most annoying people to ever grace our television screens?
I know that is a big claim to make when you consider some of the jerks, tosspots and irritating people the idiot box has foisted upon hapless viewers in this country over the years.
Who can forget – although I’d love to – Nick Tansley (from that awful game show “With a bucket on your head”)? How about Belinda Todd? The ginga-slapper from Nightline who went on to become the ‘star’ of New Zealand’s most embarrassing attempt at a comedy show ever ‘ Melody Rules’.
What about the ubiquitous Jason Gunn? (Someone who I’d find annoying just standing in the street). Then there is the list of no-talent losers like Brent Todd, Wendy Botha, Matthew Ridge and just about anybody else – apart from Marc Ellis – that producer Julie Christie has ever introduced to television.
Without a doubt these are all pretty annoying characters, so it could only be the ‘creative types’ – ie marketing and advertising tossers – who could possibly top these real-life jerks, with made up ones! So hats off to Countdown's publicity experts – they have done an outstanding job in creating the oh-so infuriating Colemans.
Their concept is not even new. Back in the day, we had the ‘Fernleaf’ family who were used quite successfully for a number of years to flog tonnes of butter, cheese and milk to local consumers. Hell, this made-up family even survived a change in product name from Fernleaf to Mainland without too much fuss.
And then we had ASB’s Ira Goldstein who has only just recently been retired back to the US after more than a decade on our screens. We came to love the goofy yank sent over to little old ‘Enzed’ by his over-bearing boss to report on a successful Kiwi bank was run.
So the Countdown's over-paid, skate-board-riding creative’s have not even been that creative with the birth of their phony Coleman family. And to make matters worse, not only do this latter-day, version of the smarmy Walton clan infest almost every ad break on my TV; now they sending me junk mail as well!
Only just this week, in the post, I received a pretend photocopied Christmas letter from the pretend Countdown family. Now it is annoying enough when you get one of these photocopied Christmas letters (where people write a generic letter skiting about their family’s ‘wonderful year’ and then send to everyone they know at Christmas time). But to actually get one from a pretend family that I don’t know – or ever want to know – is really, really annoying!
so while I have only just been introduced to Nikki, Rob, Wills, Jess and baby Joshy Coleman – I’ve already had enough of the mind-numbingly antics of this grating ‘family’. In fact, I am so sick of the annoying Colemans that they are about to turn this regular, long-time Foodtown customer into a loyal client of Foodstuffs - the fierce rival of the Countdown supermarket group.
I am certain that this kind of reaction to this slick marketing ploy – to use today’s vernacular – can safely be labelled as an ‘epic fail’!
Previously, the only Colemans I knew of was the well-known brand of mustards.
However, it seems the fake Countdown family is fast becoming very much like their condiment namesake – an unnecessary addition only ever needed in very, tiny doses!
Do me a favour Countdown and phase out the Coleman family pronto - just like you are currently doing with your Foodtown and Woolworth brands!