Wally's tales

I was surfing on the Television the other day, I stopped to listen to the spiel being doled out by one of the religious channels that come with the ‘Sky Australasian’ feed. A particular preacher seemed to have only one aim, and that was to solicit and extract as much money that he could from the Church’s TV. Adherents, or just the plain gullible. It didn’t matter where they were in he world. Any currency was acceptable, and credit cards accepted. We are talking about large sums too, $500, $1,000. This crowd doesn’t muck about. They were in my mind only one notch above professional confident experts. If the authorities were doing their job, they all should be shoved into the slammer.

The Television Churches of the Air Waves are all blatantly soliciting one thing, Money. Using every ploy they know of to extract even more money required to carry out Gods work, well some of it. This was not the only channel at this caper. They have been around for a long time, but in a different mediums. They know too when they are onto a good thing. I can remember an Aunt telling me about a family problem when I was a very small boy. At this time my Grandmother was loosing her grip on life, becoming senile, and easily manipulated. She had always been a very religious person, and a regular Church attendee. But in her latter years she was attracted more and more towards the fringe Churches. Those in charge of these institutions soon recognised her as a pigeon, ready for plucking. They were quick to exploit this and constantly fussed over the old dear. One particular group was always visiting her looking for the large donations she was known to give.

However at Church on one occasion when the collection plate came around after she had been softened up, Grandma nonchalantly tossed a substantial roll of bank notes onto the plate. When it passed by Auntie Laurie, she quickly fished out the family money, muttering it was a mistake. Today they are just as great in creating an atmosphere. You have to hand it to them in that they do give a slick and polished service, or performance that would put any genuine mainline Church to shame. They field large choirs, and a huge organ, and even a twenty or thirty piece orchestra. But the one thing they are not shy about, and that’s soliciting contributions. I didn’t have look too hard to find several others all working my section of the Air Waves. They pretend they are respectable organisations, but for my book they are about on a par with the ‘Fly by night’ roof painters and double glazers. I know about double glazing from personal experience. I’ll concede they have made great strides in cleaning their act up, but that doesn’t get me back the $12,000 I had to pay out to replace the windows in my home that went mouldy in their internal air space. They were under guarantee too, but who do you seek recompense from when the firm involved has been declared bankrupt.

Anyway back to the religious pan handlers who are preying on the weak and gullible, and there are plenty of people out there who really believe that by handing over large sums of money, they will perhaps be given favourable treatment when they reach the promised land to begin their ‘after life’. These people are no different than the con artists from Nigeria who bombard us with mail advising that a relative has died intestate. Would you believe there are several million dollars being held in trust for me should I wish to become a claimant. All I have to do, is send some up front money to help with bribes, and the necessary expenses. Then I will soon be in receipt of umpteen millions. What a lot of careless relatives I have had (About a dozen in the last count). You would think that no one, would fall for such a transparent fraudulent scheme such as this. As they say, aided by greed, there is a sucker born every minute.

The Churches in general can breathe a little easier now as Richard Dawkins who some have named the anti Christ, has moved on. He spoke to several packed houses in his talks that he gave in New Zealand, even in little Christchurch. Not cheap either, at $135 a seat, telling us what we should already know. I too am confused about life. I certainly don’t believe in many of the traditional religious stories I was fed over my formative years. But I still get a feeling of guilt and that I’m doing wrong, should I pause to think about it about many of my activities. For example, even not observing Sunday as a day of rest. Having said that, I don’t believe in Creationism, but I am happy with Evolution, the facts are there for all to see. However I can’t come to grips with the fact that we are living on a small benevolent grain of sand alongside a ten mile Beach of sand. The more we discover about our environment the more puzzling it all becomes. We reach out into space, only to find that there are billions of like stars. It’s hard not to believe that something has had a hand in providing us with this thing of wonder we call Earth. The right temperature range, the fact that in most places sufficient water, or even the air we breathe. So much to wonder about. Is there another similar planet out there? There are possibly hundreds, even thousands. It matters not, for we will never have the means of having the ability to communicate, let alone make a visit. The distances are just too great, you wouldn’t live long enough to make any journey.

All I can say and that is. Be content with your lot, and play the hand you have been dealt.

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I was wandering around the Supermarket the other day on a fruitless search seeking something that didn’t seem to exist. On this particular quest I was looking for ‘Creamota’ a favourite cereal of mine. It was a breakfast favourite popular for a large section of New Zealanders for over one hundred years. Should it be true that it has gone it’s a travesty. Anyway it must have gone and soon forgotten I suppose as it’s no where to be seen. Earlier I had wondered what would happen when Fleming’s’ Factory in Gore was purchased Lock Stock and Barrel by a competitor, Uncle Toby’s. So what is going to happen to it? Are they going to carry on as before? I didn’t have to wait too long to find out. Poor old ‘Sergeant Dan’, pity he too has to go the way of old scouts. So now we are left with only two varieties of rolled oats, namely Harrington’s and Uncle Toby’s. It would seem that the cooked cereal breakfast too is on the way out. Even the plain oatmeal seems to have disappeared.

It started me thinking, perhaps many of the other one time staples are being slowly withdrawn, sometimes in a subtle way. All purchased by a competitor, then quietly got rid off. I seem to remember Bon Ami window cleaner, and another from my youth Gibb’s pink dental cake, packed in an aluminium can. I remember another item I never see today, that’s Fly papers that came in a sticky roll. I never liked them, but I don’t have to worry about them any more. Gone. The Boot Polish ‘Nugget’ gone too. I can understand egg preserving products, not selling and being withdrawn. There is not much call for that product today. Further more, not every family today has a dozen chooks in their backyard. The need to preserve surplus eggs during the seasonal flush is no longer necessary.

There has also been a falling off in home bottling and preserving too. The market and shops are flooded with cheap canned products. All shipped in from overseas. Peaches from Poland, China, and South Africa. These would you believe, are all selling for less than we can buy the raw materials. The canning factory in Roxburgh found this out too, unable to compete, it had to close. This in turn hurt the local growers who actually depended on the factory for their livelihood. The only local one that was available to buy their product. At one time I had access to a home canning system, but again, the price of the empty cans actually exceeded the price of filled cans imported from overseas.

Nothing seems to make sense any more. Oysters in shell, the preferred way of eating them by a Connoisseur. Forget it, they are now shucked at their source and delivered to us in a plastic pot. I will never forget the look on a Frenchman’s face when he was offered some in this manner by his favourite fish merchant, ‘Sacre Bieu’. The best oyster in the world is now nearly destroyed.

Shoes are another item that has changed. So cheap now that no one bothers any more to repair them. When showing signs of wear, they are simply discarded. I gave away my boot ‘Last’ with my tins of brass cleats and hob nails, toe and heel plates, to a Niece who stored them away amongst her other antique items.

I remember I my youth candles and kerosene lamps were still in common use. I was pleased to note that candles are still on display on the grocers shelves. Whenever we have an power outage, there is always a scramble to look under the bench in the dark to resurrect the old standby. The ranks of old faithfuls that have now gone is endless. Lemonade, the American Giants have swept aside our old favourites ‘Lanes’ ‘Ballins’ and ‘Thompson’s’. Not even an empty bottle in sight as they had a small redeemable price on their bottle returns, kids quickly exploited this source of revenue.

In the cosmetics range there has been huge changes too. Qtol a popular face cream gone. Shaving soap forget it, so I suppose shaving Brushes too. Remember Baxter’s lung tonic? However there could be another reasons for some of the removals. In the past, many of our more popular remedial brands were heavily laced with alcohol, and would you believe until recently, opiates. The Chemists and Doctors would know which could be additive. We all had someone in our family that clung to their favourite remedy, like it or like it not they were addicted. I know of one case recently that they became addicted a nicotine supplement chewing gum to stop smoking. I know from my time in the services that lemon extract was always on any order the Cooks put forward. None of it however found it’s way into their cooking. The fact that it was laced with proof Spirit could have had something to do with it’s popularity.

We all go through many stages of life, one of the most important as far as I’m concerned is ‘Old Age’. Of course I’m now fully qualified to write about ‘Old Age’, as a practising Senior citizen. If someone was to inquire, ‘How will you know when you are officially classified as ‘Old’? Well that’s easy, there are several clues and changes that you will experience. The start of it’s onset it could be with young people you encounter at Banks, or other official places of Business, Medical Centres even. When these employees start to greet you as, ‘Dear’ or ‘Love’, something they wouldn’t have dared have done a few years back. Also, some young shop assistants have trouble seeing you. It must be another effect with growing ‘Old’. You sometimes become partially invisible. Some seem to think that as well as you are ‘Old’, and exhibiting symptoms of frailty, you must also be hard of hearing or deaf. So they talk loudly to you, just like they do when dealing with foreigners.

We are also treated differently by Politicians, they need to be reminded from time to time, that your vote doesn’t become invalid with age. I came into contact with this thinking when I turned eighty years of age. I was told on reaching this milestone, I was now required to take an mandatary biannual eye sight test, this was to commence at eighty, plus an extensive medical exam, and finally a comprehensive practical driving test.

Everyone involved clipped my ticket, presenting me with a substantial bill for each step. To say I was annoyed, would be an understatement. So I immediately sat down and wrote a terse letter to the then Minister of Transport, who at the time was the Honourable Ruth Dyson. In it I explained that I wanted to know why authorities were picking on the ‘Old People’, when the facts and statistics didn’t support the situation. We didn’t get drunk, hoon around in our cars, have accidents, and write ourselves off with poor driving habits. Further more, if they were really so anxious to test a group of people that had more accidents than any other section of our population, and as well exhibited a very bad driving record. Take a hard look at the Police. They it would seem to have the worst driving record of any section of the New Zealand population. I must have touched a nerve as she replied immediately. She thanked me for my letter, and said that they were looking into the current legislation that was annoying me. True to her word, a year later she wrote again, and said the biannual driving test for eighty years and older would be abolished before the end of this current year. A great a win for the ‘Old Fogies’. I still had to pay $35 for a medical, plus a nominal sum for the reissue of a new licence.

I had found it initially difficult driving in the City for the first time, as 99% of my driving (Some 75 years ) had always been in the country where stop lights, stop signs, and all the other City restrictions, just didn’t exist. But I did know how to drive in snow and ice, and on gravel roads. I had never had an accident or made an Insurance claim. Even with this back ground I very nearly failed my first ‘retest’. During the test I came to a Compulsory Stop, I drove a metre past the yellow line before I came to a halt. The Instructor ponced. He said, ‘I will have to fail you for this mistake’. ‘Why did you drive past the yellow line by at least a metre’? I replied, ‘Because there was a tree blocking my line of sight where the yellow lines are painted on the road’. ‘So I stopped where I could actually see if the way was clear’. ‘I actually thought you would condone this action’. But he said, ‘You should have stopped at the yellow line regardless’. ‘That’s the Official Line’. I wondered about this, and wanted to say. ‘Where do they recruit people as stupid as you, to carry out testing’? But under the circumstances, I thought it more prudent just to bite my Tongue. He sat quiet for a few minutes while he pondered over my conduct and reason, at last it would seem common sense prevailed. ‘Perhaps this man has a point’. He then decided to forgive me, and we resumed the test.

In my youth, people living to an Old Age were not a problem. Not many did. On reaching 60 years of age, many of those working in heavy manual occupations which most did most were exhausted, and worn out physically. They without fail, soon shuffled off to an early grave. However today, as a result of excellent medical attention, good knowledge of what constitutes a healthy diet, plus machines to do the heavy ‘Donkey’ work, it’s not unusual for most of the population to live well into their eighties or nineties. The result of this is we have hundreds of these, who are now deemed, ‘Old People’. Problem! What are we going to do with them all? Why put them into ‘Homes’ of course. Buy up large numbers of Lazy Boy Chairs, arrange them in a circle, and leave them all sitting and awaiting their final call to shuffle on. From time to time Groups call to entertain. They are a special breed, all anxious to perform. Not good enough for the local Bar ‘Karaoke’ scene, but they inflict themselves onto a passive audience which they can find in Rest Homes. They range from adequate, to just plain awful.

With Old Age Sometimes mother nature plays some nasty tricks. You may be fit and able and ready for an enjoyable retirement, along comes Alzheimer’s. Or the other alternative, you are as sharp as a tack and a paralysing stroke is your lot, so all you can do is accept your lot in life and play mind games.

Sadly I don’t have an answer to the problem, but I’m sure we can do a lot better that we currently do. I know one thing for sure, there is a ‘Lazy Boy’ chair waiting in the wings for the young of today who have parked their Old Folk into care.

I’m thinking of applying for a Darwin Award, I think over the years I have carried out several acts that should put me in a position to be a possible candidate. So you don’t know what the Darwin Award is all about? Well, it’s given out to people who commit incredible stupid acts.

One such incident that I recall, happened some time ago and should partially qualify me. It happened when I was a trainee pilot at Taieri Air Port, I was off flying solo in a Tiger Moth. The day was dull, raining and the sky was nearly fully clagged in, with low cloud. But I saw a hole in the cloud cover, through it I caught a glimpse of another world, and the sun. Tempted, and although thoroughly inexperienced, I didn’t need any urging. I climbed through the open pathway and entered into a bright new world. Sunshine, snowy towering clouds, in fact a wonderland. All mine, and mine alone to explore. However, when I considered it was time to return, the hole was no where to be seen, gone! This was really serious, the Air Port was in a basin and surrounded by high mountains. Exactly where I was now in relation to the mountains, I didn’t have a clue. The mantras we had been taught came flooding back to me. ‘There are Old Pilots, and Bold Pilots’, but no Old Bold Pilots’. And another, ‘There are rocks in clouds’. To get out of my predicament, I flew due East for some time which now meant I was out over the sea. I let down only to find New Zealand was no where in sight. Flew back due West and found my aerodrome again, only to discover my Instructor pacing up and down because I was now overdue. I never confessed to him what stupid thing I had done. But now, I was more than a little wiser. Many pilot when training did stupid things, but never confessed.

Another time when overseas I was doing ‘Air Control’ for night flying. The planes flying were faster, and a little more sophisticated. It wasn’t the custom to use the tower for this task, but a truck with a partial glass enclosure. This was parked in the line of fire so to speak, located at end of the strip, close as possible to the action. You were given this task for any misdemeanours, or just plain military volunteering. ‘You are the controller tonight. OK?’. I was armed with a ‘Very pistol’, loaded with red flares, as well an ‘Aldis’ Lamp, as we didn’t run to radios. I was now in sole charge of the Air Port. This particular night was cold and frosty, very still. I had just given an Aircraft on it’s finals, a ‘Green’, signifying he Run Way was clear and it was OK to land. But when he glided in closer, over and above the engine noise and the whistle of his oncoming Aircraft, I could hear a claxton horn. I couldn’t see the aircraft in the dark, only its navigation lights. I knew immediately what was wrong. Hooters were fitted just above the pilot’s ear, designed to give the pilot a loud reminder blast should he throttle back with his undercarriage still in the retracted position. This Pilot was actually ignoring the overpowering noise. So I fired a red flare at him. I actually hit the propeller, this immediately turned the aircraft into a red ball. Not exactly the correct procedure, I suppose I scared about ten years growth out of the forgetful pilot. However, he quickly recovered from the shock, throttled up and disappeared into the night, going round again. I never knew who the stupid pilot was as he escaped into the dark.

One day I received a call from my Sister. Could I drop what ever I was doing and come over immediately. She had an opossum or similar small animal trapped in her home’s ceiling space. Hurry up too as it was busy chewing through the ceiling plaster. What it would do once it got loose in the house, was something we didn’t even wish to think about. After putting a chair on a table I was able to reach the opossum and pulled a back leg through the hole it had made. I then tied a walking stick tightly to a back leg and proceeded to pull the little ‘beastie’ through the hole. I was now about to find out now the true meaning of the word ‘possum’ which the animal had been playing until now. Suddenly I had about seven pounds of angry spitting scratching, screaming, mean critter, half in and half out of the ceiling hole. I didn’t know what to do, I wasn’t making a good job of what I was now doing. So I immediately switched to plan ‘B’. Reaching for my rifle which I had also brought along and shot the opossum. Wonderful! I now had two holes in the slate roof, one made by the animal, one by the exiting bullet. This wasn’t one of my brightest acts, but the animal was now dead. I don’t think this was the sort of result my sister had called for. It could be worth consideration for an award.

Another act I was involved in happened during preparation for solo night flying. In our time air craft were fitted with only limited instruments. Night flying was something that you needed to bring all of your skills to bear. The most dangerous time was on ‘takeoff’. You lined up on the runway which was lit with about couple of dozen kerosene flares. Uncage you directional aid, then with full throttle run down the flare pathway. Once the last flare went under your wing, you were in a black void, so there was no need to look outside, but give the instrument panel your full attention. I was doing practice ‘take offs’ the instructor was in a bad mood giving me a hard time. I was flustered, and committed the cardinal sin and neglected to uncage the directional Gyro. The instructor had also been extremely neglectful too, he had forgotten to fit his control column from where it was placed, should the aircraft be in a solo mode. When he went to grab the ‘Stick’, he considered too that his time was up. We managed to stagger into the air and I put this down to more good luck than experience. We both agreed after this narrow squeak that we would never discuss this episode again, certainly not with our superiors.

Sure I have made many mistakes in my life, but I never repeated any of them, and I’m still alive. I considered I was richer for experience from some of the many situations that I got myself into.

Christchurch has some unique places of interest. One that stands out one is the Johnson’s Grocery in Colombo Street. To enter their Emporium is to take a large step back in time. In the past one hundred years they have resisted all progress made in grocery retailing. The proprietors still serve every customer personally, tightly wrapped up in spotless white aprons, riding up and down the isles, on their side of the counter on ladders fastened to the walls on roller rails, grabbing items from shelves floor to ceiling to make up your order as they pass by. They also carry a surprisingly extensive stock. An example, after being introduced to Turkish Apple Tea that Lynn and Mark had brought back from their holiday abroad for us to taste. We really liked it, seeking more we hunted around Christchurch stores without success, We found in one shop, a packet of Turkish Delight made by the same manufacturer, but alas they carried no tea. No demand they cried. But surprise, surprise, Johnson’s had it in stock. While completing the purchase another women customer inquired what was it and went out of the shop with us clutching a packet as well. So there is a demand. It’s well worth anyone making a visit to Christchurch to also make a visit to Johnson’s, just for the trip back in time, their prices are close to what you would expect to pay elsewhere.

Another surprise here, children’s Playgrounds. I can remember a time back and all that these consisted of, was a swing fixed to a tree. The first organised playgrounds started to arrive when our children were young, then they consisted of a simple merry go round, slides, swings, and monkey bars. That was until the safety people OSH got into the act. They reworked everything. Each piece of apparatus now has to be ‘Safe’, and as well, the ground underneath made soft. But here now, it all has moved indoors and turned unto a modern day ‘Amusement Barn’. Chock full of everything a kid could wish for, providing you can afford the nominal entry fee. It has Pumped up castles to play in, these are about the size of a small house, and are included. However according to the yellow pages you can hire about a dozen similar Castles and even have them bought to your home for the day.

Our town has probably one of the best water reticulation systems in the world. What a difference to makes to the taste of your hot drinks. The water is ‘Old’ and has travelled underground from the main mountain range in flows at different depths all heading for the sea. It requires no treatment, but is loaded with minerals which do effect your electric kettles or jugs when boiled, leaving a white deposit. The water can also etch window glass if you leave it on after a cleaning.

However after living for many years in Queenstown where it was surrounded by many square miles of pure water, but the Council unfortunately found it necessary to chlorinate that water because they kept on having accidents with sewerage. The chlorine taint was so bad I just gave up drinking tea being so heavily chlorinated it tainted everything. For me it was so bad, I just gave up hot drinks made with reticulated water and brought our own in from outside the area. On arrival here the change was unbelievable, I can’t describe the pleasure derived from a simple thing such as the cup of tea made with local tap water. This is the same water this city has enjoyed for over a hundred years, the only difference is the City no longer runs a continuous supply down the street gutters just to flush, and keep them clean. In spite of this wonderful water supply, the Supermarkets and specialistic stores still sell bottled water from the four corners of the world. The youth of the city as well as carrying their cell phone, they wouldn’t be seen dead without their bottle of water. There is a snob value to this bottled water as well and some will only imbibe exotic water from France or the USA. So naturally there are shops catering for this demand and import water from the four corners of the earth. This is unbelievable when the best water is available from their tap and free.

New Zealand could make a killing here to take advantage of this demand for pure drinking water. We have several Large pristine rivers on the West Coast, miles from any habitation that could be exploited, and would effect no one and greatly benefit our Nation. Even the mention of this brings out the rabid ‘Green Brigade’ with their ‘Dog in the Manger’ attitude, and one hundred reasons why it shouldn’t be done. I suppose we should be grateful that they are in a minority in Parliament and they have no influence how we live. Could you ever manage to think what it would be like to be married to one?

I will now close this letter off, go and take a hot shower, free of chlorine, with water I can even drink should I want.

Greenpeace activists today are busy giving the Japanese Whaling Fleet a hard time. I’m not sure why they are so intent on saving Whales, their last campaign was against Nucleor Testing in the Pacific, or anywhere for that matter. Yes I can relate to that, but then as always, they pushed a little too hard and came away with a Bloody Nose. We now know it was the French Secret Service who sank their vessel, ‘Rainbow Warrior’ while moored in Auckland. A couple of small bombs did the job when they became a little too annoying. I had actually been down to the Auckland wharves that very same day when the deed was carried out. I had been making a visit to an Out Board Agency, intent on buying a replacement part for my own ‘odd ball’ engine while in Auckland. I actually saw this highly painted green boat, decorated with a huge rainbow painted on it’s side. I didn’t know then what all the attention and fuss, that people were making over it. Or even that it was the centre of the Greenpeace protest movement, as I didn’t live in Auckland. What a dummy I was, I didn’t know either, that soon it would be sunk, more to the point after the bombing, attracting worldwide interest. I really wasn’t much interested in what they were up to, everyone and his Uncle were at this time busy protesting about most things. I considered they were just another Bunch of nerds, with too much time on their hands. Then came the explosion, this blew their protest onto the front page of newspapers around the world. Not exactly what the French wanted. The French Secret Service who did the deed escaped, but turned out to be a clumsy bunch, who really didn’t deserve to get away with this act. I formed the opinion that at this time, the French Secret Service must be an easy organisation to get employment in as they seemed to behave like rank amateurs.

Today Greenpeace is in just about as much danger if they keep on pushing the parameters of their protest. This technic of ramming at high speed to frustrate the Whale Catchers can only result in grief. At some point the Japanese will strike back, and the Antarctic is not the place for these high stake games, however well intentioned. Further more, the pristine environment of the Antarctica shouldn’t be put under such a threat by these clowns. Which is exactly what they are doing. Any serious damage sustained, Japanese or Greenpeace, could cause an irreversible situation which would be unforgivable, no matter how just they consider their cause. Oil and other fuel could contaminate the continent and bird life for a hundred years.

The Whales after being hunted nearly to extinction have made a wonderful recovery, they could now sustain some culling. But I don’t think, no matter how great their recovery that hunting will ever be condoned. There will always be a Greenpeace or like organisation busy riding shotgun on them. I’m not sure what the love affair with Greenpeace and the whales is all about. Maybe it’s because the Whales have a large brain, and it’s said to be intelligent. I don’t how you would measure this, but we too have many humans with big brains, and it’s no measure of their intelligence. Many of these have never had an original thought in all their lives. The height of their ambition for many seems to be a member of a gang and spend their lives being lead around by their nose.

I know the Japanese like whale meat, as do the Norwegians and Eskimos. I haven’t tried it, but have eaten a Dolphin Steak given to me by a fisherman. If given a choice of take it or leave it, I think now I would just leave it, as the dolphin meat was a little too fishy for my taste. I have read somewhere that whale meat was on sale in England during the War, possibly from Norwegians vessels that evaded capture when their country was overrun by Germany during the War II.

I’m very wary of all the ‘Green’ movements. They seem to attract on their fringe, an element that considers any action they take should be condoned by the world at large, no matter how extreme. In my mind, many times they are just plain Terrorists.

The new school year has started, it’s reported that in many cases there is also a grumpy teaching staff coming back to School as well. It seems the teachers are not refreshed, full of complaints regarding the new Reporting System the Government is introducing. In my mind many shouldn’t even be in this profession at all, and from time to time my view is continually being reinforced. There is a glaring need for a reporting system and informing parents progress of their children. I speak from our personal experience gained from the hands in the system. If the reported News is to believed, some Headmasters are ready to do battle with the Minister of Education over the reporting of progress of students. All doing their damnest to fudge the introduction, demanding trials, and anything else they can dream up to delay. They lost this battle long ago when ‘Today’s Schools’ was introduced by David Lange, then some of their power was largely transferred over to the School Committees. I could tell them, stop wasting time, this is one battle they are not going to win. I have no sympathy for them at all. As well I have a personal axe to grind. For all that, the teacher’s Union who seem to be the force behind their campaign, all powerful, but not as bad as the Teacher’s Union in New York as reported this week in ‘Time Magazine’. There according to the article, the power there that Union wields is unbelievable, it’s near impossible for the authorities to fire a teacher, even one accused of a crime, or worse, a drug addition. Also in New York Authorities are even forbidden by law to evaluate teacher performance by using student test results. ‘Union again’. It would seem our teachers are or would like to go down the same path.

Years ago when we had children at school, one so called teacher tried his damnedest to damage my son’s education because, he considered that I questioned his ability as an educator. It started simply enough with the question over dinner. ‘What did you do at School today, Son?’. He replied, ‘Gardening’. On subsequent occasions our questions were the same, And always a one word reply, ‘Gardening’. This didn’t seem right to me, so I made a visit to see his teacher who confessed that he had a classroom of these, ‘Dummies’, (his words) and rather than have them disrupting his classes and wasting his time, he had kept them occupied by working in the school gardens. On reporting this to Jessie, my ‘mother in law’ who was also a teacher. She in her time had brought up many ‘Lame Dogs’ to speed, and gave them a start in life. Her reaction was an immediate, and resulted in a visit by the family to the Otago University to have our boy accessed, and to find out if there was anything wrong with his brain, or for that matter his learning ability. ‘Above average’, was their verdict. But you should know, he can’t read. To assist us we were given a list of helpful reading material that we should obtain. ‘Give this to your teacher, you will have to pay for it as you can’t access it yourself’. We did just this, and the result was the teacher ‘Williams’ flew into a rage, that we had the audacity to challenge his ability as a teacher, and go over his head for help. As far as the sourcing of any reading material, that would come under the heading of, ‘Passive Resistance’ nothing was done in spite of repeated inquiries. A short time later it was time to move on to Waitaki High, I went along with my son to enrol him. The Rector John Donaldson was on an enforced Sabbatical, and the Assistant Archie Gibb was in charge. I told him why I was present, and what are they going to do about my situation. He told me they I had no idea of the enormity of their problem. They had classrooms of these ‘non readers’ and they were bringing back a retired Headmaster from Waimate School to run a remedial reading programme. What a treasure he was, he kept me in touch by reporting weekly. We did our part by introducing and reading with Rod every exciting book in the Library. It would seem to me, the problem arose when educators changed from the ‘Phonetic’ method of teaching students to read, to something called ‘Look and See’. The teacher at the Intermediate could claim that he too was a victim of the system, but in my mind he was really was part of the problem. He made no effort to advise the parents what was going on, and when we entered the picture, he was obstructive. As I saw it, he was the one who should have been the person out Gardening

Rod would have made a good gardener, but as it turned out he was able to manage a Bank. Young Doug Maxwell when I was discussing this article, he said that he had the same problem, Now he considered that he had dropped out of University because of problems he was having expressing himself with ‘English’. He too overcame his handicap, and rose to the top of another profession. I came across many adults in my daily life who were the same, or worse. l was quick to zero in on their problem, and helped them with form filling in, or their cheque writing, pretending I wasn’t aware of their problem. My wife a nurse at the Medical Centre where she also had several others under her wing. Many were unable even to fill in the admission paper to see the doctor. The damage these people did to many in our community is unforgivable.

My hope for the future is that teachers will see the light and perhaps start thinking for themselves, and not be lead around by control freaks.

In my youth one of the Institutions that controlled and played a large part in our daily lives was a most unlikely candidate, the Post Office. It’s hard to believe that it had such a profound effect on our lives, even though it was completely and tightly wrapped up in Government ‘Red Tape’. At that time the Post Office seemed to have a finger in every pie, it was the number one business centre in most towns. Sure it was an extension of our Government, but to be fair at that time we couldn’t have managed without it. It was the mail centre, telegraph Office, and as well the only interface to the Government, being the payer of all the Government’s pensions and Child allowances. As well the sole operator of the New Zealand Telephone systems and of course, our Telegram service.

The Post Office was the licensing agent for most of the Government’s other activities such as the tightly controlled Radio, both the transmitting and receiving mediums. In addition, it also ran a well structured Banking Service which paid interest on Savings accounts. This was only 3½%, the going rate at the time. Of course it was also responsible too for it’s core business, ‘Mail Delivery’, the sale and issue of Postal Stamps. As you can see it was all powerful, and if you weren’t happy with the service you just had to put up with it, as there was no second choice. It was inevitable that some employees took advantage of the situation and became very pedantic and difficult to deal with if should you step outside what they considered the accepted norm.

With the telegraph and cable systems available, the Trading Banks used them in a very efficient manner to speedily transfer money and cheques around New Zealand and the World. Every Bank Branch had a Code Book and a ‘Key’ which was changed at regular intervals, and as well additional security was built in with several ‘Tests’ to guard against any fraud. I never heard of anyone taking advantage of this cheap method of dispatching money around the Country which had evolved over time and was delightfully simple. For instant, there was one word for any registered address. Then say for example to take the code word ‘CAADF’ This said when expanded, ‘Pay and advise…….The sum of…..Currency…..Sent by….. And all you had to do then was fill in the gaps. Of course, the Gaps were also in code. A final check, was a ‘test’ number made up from several components of the message. Of course there were hundreds of additional five letter codes available to cover every contingency.

Another one of the organisations that we depended on was the Friendly Societies. They were a grouping of benefit Lodges such as the Odd Fellows, Foresters, Buffaloes, and perhaps even more. They had amalgamated to provide and subsidise both the Medical Services and Medication. These friendly Societies or Lodges were all very wealthy institutions, albeit from only the small sums all members paid in weekly. They were a godsend to those for all those who suffered from ill health. Some of their social benefits even extended to monetary matters and they even lent money to members for housing.

When I joined the Banking Service, any machine within their hallowed walls was a rare item indeed. There was the odd mechanical adding machine, but certainly no calculating machines. All calculations had to be carried out with pen and paper. I enjoyed a very rapid promotion by being put in charge of a Ledger Department of a City Bank. I felt that this was not because of any outstanding ability of mine, but I suspected is was because no one else wanted to have a bar of working with Women, or these new Fangled Machines, that were being introduced. I loved the job and the new challenge, which evolved day by day until the ultimate technological arrived, in the form of a computer.

The Railways also played a large part in our early life. The Railway Stations were the show piece of spit and polish and their many brass fittings were polished daily. They all as well seemed to have show gardens that were all kept to a pristine standard. The Christchurch Station also boasted a set of six or eight highly polished bronze doors which I admired every time I passed through. However the once imposing Station has now been sold and Rail activities relocated to a small inferior building on the edge of the town. The old Railway Station has been born again as a Movie Multiplex. Yes, the bronze doors are still there in the foyer, but it’s not the same. Today they are a sorry sight, grimy, and covered in verdigris. I’m not happy with what’s happening, with the efforts of the graffiti delinquents and the steady decline in our standards we will soon be living in a ghetto unless steps are taken to arrest this trend.

I was listening to the radio this morning and was amused to hear a family bitterly complaining that a river near where they were camping had flooded, as a result they found it necessary to move camp in the night. They were upset that there was no notice advising that this river could and did flood. The Mayor responsible who I think was elected for the Wairarapa district where the river was located, was also given ‘Air Time’ by our Morning Radio to explain the Council’s position. It must have been a slow new Day for this to be front line ‘News’. The Mayoress was busy apologising for their lack of ‘signing’. She would look into the matter as soon as she retuned to her office and further questioned their Chief Executive to find out why the posting of notices hadn’t been carried out earlier.

When I stopped laughing I wondered, does no one today take responsibility for their own actions? All rivers flood, in fact, look back to our not too distant past when bridges were few and far between, rivers crossings and as well fords were then rightly called ‘Widow Makers’. People today in all walks of life are always looking for someone else to blame for any and every action. The Police, should they chase an offender are now to blame should the ‘nincompoop’ being chased, loose control of his vehicle, run off the road. Possibly kill or injure himself. Immediately the family of the perpetrator, and as well as the Media, if given a voice in the incident, they invariably blame the Police. Pardon me, that’s not the way I see it. Does no one take any responsibility today for anything? Carried out to the nth degree these people would have every loose stone on a mountain labelled. Any large body of water, any cliff or mountain height would also have notices posted that at times these areas can be dangerous, or cut up rough with big unmanageable waves.

Of course the Government had to get into the act. In fact they have created a whole department to keep us safe and warned about what is happening around us. Go into any toilet or supermarket today and you will be busy avoiding the yellow sandwich boards scattered everywhere. These are all advising ‘Wet Floors’. This is ‘OSH’(Occupational Safe Health) a Government initiative in action. In fact in our Air Ports sometimes the yellow boards seem to be a permanent fixture regardless if the floors are wet or dry, in my mind the notices are a bigger hazard than any wet floor. I think also that OSH are responsible for the fencing of all building sites here in the city as well. Same for all Harbour Facilities not forgetting Rubbish Tips. They today are all locked up tighter than a drum. This move I suppose would be OSH again possibly protecting the Public from injuring themselves. How did we manage to get by over the past two hundred years with out excluding us from anything and everything?

Another recent innovation is ‘Cones’. If you don’t know what I’m talking about? Plastic cones which are about 50 mm in height, painted a bright red or orange. Local Boroughs and the Roads Board must have millions. Everywhere you go today you are required to navigate your vehicle and thread it through lanes of these red markers. How we managed in the past I don’t know, but recently for months the whole of Papanui Road was lined from end to end, (several kilometres in fact) with several million of these orange markers. These you had to navigate and make your way through narrow lanes on the road. Apart from those markers every perceived obstacle in town is well and truly ringed with red Cones, as well, they are seemingly planted months prior to any work being carried out, and months after completion as well.

There is another area that concerns me and that’s when there has been an accident or an incident on the road, and the Police come into the picture. Immediately they close off the highway to all traffic which is fair enough, but not for a whole day as they do. It matters not a jot to them that they are causing a great inconvenience to many people while they ponder over the accident scene. A few hours should be long enough as they have many aids at their finger tips to record and preserve any evidence should it be required. I don’t what it is but for me spending a day just looking at a scene doesn’t equate to the production of a flawless report.

There is a lot of news these today on how we deal and dispense our Justice. Some of the criticism being aimed at the system is fully justified, especially when it comes to the suppression of names and evidence. Have the authorities never heard of the old saying ‘Name and Shame’. More especially of who can decide of what can, and what can’t be suppressed. All this power seems to be vested in one small group, namely Judges, and of course anyone else who is in charge. All of today’s systems have evolved to a point where we are now following a quaint set of rules and protocols. This over time has given us a system that seems to favour and is heavily weighted in favour of the accused. They have their rights you know. The authorities who are in charge, all seem to be recruited from a very small pool of what is called eligible people, or to put it more bluntly ‘lawyers’. As well, these folk have decided that they are the only people in our country with the specialist knowledge who are capable of making any of today’s legal decisions, which to my mind is absolutely plain nonsense. Most times the decisions they make have nothing to do with legal matters, all that is required is just a dollop of good old ‘Common Sense’. Lawyers over the years have played a big part in introducing our to our complicated system requiring you to know all of the complicated rules and procedures that have evolved to dispense ‘Justice’. This has now evolved to a point should you must wish to work within the system, you like it or like it not you now require the services of a lawyer. Most of these rules are just nonsense when you take a hard look at them. In my opinion which has been formed over time, too many of these people have also entered into a relationship that’s a little too close to the criminal element. This in any other field would have them disqualified them for having a vested interest. To expand the subject, too many have spent years working in close contact with the criminal element doing their best to assist them, and if possible help them to wriggle out of what ever they have been charged with. At the same time using every tenuous ploy they can dream up. This is also a relationship where they have been very well paid to distort facts, and in turn free their clients.

I mentioned in an earlier letter that one feral before the court was given a two weeks of suppression of his name, to advise his grandmother of his predicament. We the public have a right to know what is going on, so long as the justice system is going to fudge the facts by suppression, then it is no longer open Justice. Everything in court matters should be open. No one should have the power to suppress anything, whether it be ‘names’ or ‘evidence’. I’m not alone in these beliefs. Should judges have the feeling that this or that should be covered up, he should have extremely good reasons for doing so, not the rather lame excuse of a two week suspension for someone before the court to advise his ‘Granny’ is to open him/herself to criticism. It would seem that there are many people out there who are of the opinion that Justice today has strayed too far, and now are prepared to object by blatantly challenging the system, daring them to do their damnedest.

Another area of concern and that’s how penalties are arrived at. There doesn’t seen to be any degree of fairness at all. Steal a bar of chocolate and a can of peaches you can expect to receive the full force of the law. Steal a million or so and the situation changes completely. The law doesn’t seem to ratchet up the sentence on a pro rata basis, or even in some cases even go after the stolen funds with any serious intent.