In the Navy...The Gunnery Range

When a RNZN Ship comes out of refit (a process to cover the rust with more layers of paint, fill the hold in with new cement, restock the bar fridges etc) they then ship off to Aussie for Sea Acceptance Trials (SATs) which is a sort of a WOF for warships. It involves a series of different exercises including speed trials, fire fighting drills, war games, and gunnery (or weapons) testing.

The old (now retired and sunken) HMNZS Waikato (F55) was carrying out such gunnery testing off Beecroft Peninsula using it's 4.5" twin turret. Nowadays turrets on warships are automatic, hydraulics and electronics load, aim and fire on targets over the horizon, however the Mk6 Mod 4 guns on "The Waka-tooo" (Waka-too, the War Canoe) were completely manual - "Gunners" (Gunna do this, Gunner do that) manually loaded shells (High Explosive, Armour Piercing, Star Shell etc) and cartridges full of cordite into a breech and rammed them shut. The Principal Warfare Officer, deep down in the bowels of the ship in the Ops Room and his team would load figures into what barely passed as a computer that would swing the turret onto its target (or close enough to it) and then a person cramped into a small space in top of the turret looking out a little window would confirm 'gun on the range' - this would be acknowledged back down below and then a moment of silence before the shells would be fired at their target up to 25,000 yards (about 12 miles) away.

Well this day off Beecroft, I was asked to be "Captain of the Turret" which was pretty cool as Officers weren't normally 'invited' into the Gunner's realm and it is about as close as you can get to the the shooting. Laid off the range about 10kms away, my job was to visually confirm the gun was aimed between two large coloured signs indicating the extreme edges of the range so falling shot would not put anyone (like the observation tower) at risk. Our helicopter was also flying above the range to provide 'fall of shot'.

I called 'gun on the range' after judging the turrets were in fact aimed between the signs and the guns roared. Silence as everyone waited for the tell tale 'puffs' on the land...but I didn't see any looking out my little window, but the first thing I heard was "Check! Check! Check!" in a thick Aussie accent. This came from the observation tower as our shells landed within a mile of them!!!! We were somewhere in the region of 5 miles off target!!!!

And of course you know who was to blame!

Inside the Red Zone...

Please excuse this post, it doesn't seem to portray it as well as I imagnised. But if nothing else, and as if you hadn't seen enough photos, I hope it gives another insight into our devestated city.

Well today was a surreal moment. Those in the PWC Building were invited into the Red Zone to spend an hour and a half in the building retrieving whatever we could in that time. We met at the Basilica (which in itself is sad to look at) and were required to sign in, provide ID, and the don the hard hats and hi-vis before jumping on a bus and given a safety briefing, not to dissimilar than those on a plane; "In the unlikely event of an earthquake..." Good to see the sense of humour still simmers below the pain.

 

At the checkpoint - stark reminder of
what we were in for

 

Munn's Menswear on Armargh - been around since the
dawn of time, survived the last quake.
I bought my wedding suit from here late last year.



Driving through town, up Barbadoes and into Armargh (avoiding the obvious area near the Grand Chancellor) it was like a scene out of The Quiet Earth...the only people we saw were the odd Police Officers and Army personnel manning cordons, and as light relief, a small portable kitchen providing meals for those still working inside "Checkpoint Charlie". Everywhere there were signs of what used to be buildings, but you couldn't for the life of you think of what was there...more what wasn't there if that makes sense?

Above left; tenants and USAR wait outside PWC

Above right; view from our floor, looking east up Armargh St - this is the start of the "Arts District"

Above left; view from our floor looking north, Avon River in foreground, punting shed to right. The pile of rubble is what is left of the PGC Building.

Above right; PGC site - no words can describe it, none needed.

We pulled up outside PWC, on Armargh, and the first thing you notice is the quiet...Armargh is a busy thoroughfare, with banks, office blocks, and famous landmarks such as New Regent St (which has the tram running right through it), Copenhagen's Bakery, Munn's Menswear, and Costa's Souvlaki. You can never find a park here, let alone be the only one in the queue at Yellow Rockets for a coffee, in the Burrito house, or for a trim at Bojangles. And yet apart from us, and a few engineers and USAR escorts, it was reminiscent of the aftermath of a nuclear bomb. Literally.

Above left; view south. The building in the middle is the Cathedral, to the right it's spire would normally dominate this view, standing as tall as the building to the right.

Above right; looking south-east, Manchester St. Came worst off in Sept 10, what survived then wasn't so lucky this time round.

We then walked up the thirteen flights to our floor (the building is 20 floors, and some were going up there!) and I have to admit, the devastation on our floor was minimal considering what you see around you at ground level. Sure, things have tipped onto the floor, filing cabinets on their sides, light fittings and roof panels smashed here and there, but relatively little. There were seven of us, and we had our own backpacks for our personal belongings and then anything else was what we could carry down and place into nine wheelie bins provided to us that would be trucked back to the check in point.

 

Above left; south, towards the tram depot at the bottom of New Regent

Above right; Part of New Regent - the tram travels through here - the cleared rubble from the right is from Sept 10

 Above left; The famous Copenhagen's Bakery - you could barely get a seat in here, let alone one of their famous pies as they were always sold out before you got in. Note the footpath in front, sunken from liquefaction.

Above right; Jake and Katie take a rest from doing the stairs.

 

Left; that famous window in the Forsythe Barr Building

Above; Westpac, corner of Armargh and Colombo

So, I was done quickly, and moved my attention to the essentials. I lugged 14 dozen beers and two cases of wine (oh yeah, and some snacks from the Friday Night stash) and prepared them for being taken back down. We were only to go down and back up one at a time, so it took some time to get stuff shipped to the street, and furniture was not allowed in case of blocking the stairwell in another shake. Shame, we left four large screen TVs, copiers, faxes, couches, stereos, chairs, desks...well, the list is endless.

Above; the Burrito house
Left; Me and Morne show off the new season's fashions







Above left; New Regent St. We used to have Friday drinks and  nibbles in the restaurant to the right. Great noodle house a bit further up. Our favourite coffee shop is right, out of shot, and Costa's left out of shot.
Above right; Calendar Girls, local strip club. Makes you wonder who came out these windows, and in what state of dress...
 

A poignant shot of a flag
lowered to half mast.



With about 20mins to go, we were pretty much done, a lot of stuff was to be left behind and didn't seem worth recovering, and with the help of our 'minders', we lugged the remaining gear *and booze!) down the stairs to place in the bins...imagine the cheers from those on other floors as we trudged out with arms full of booze...good old fashioned ribbing followed; "How do we get a job at Vodafone?", "Your shout!", "Good to see the important things were saved!".

With the bins loaded up and placed onto the trucks, we had a bit of time to chat to other tenants, share stories, look at the immediate area, take some shots...and then on the bus again and back to the Basilica.

It was an odd afternoon...not what I thought; at no time did I feel insecure, scared, worried. But at the same time, I cannot say I felt entirely normal or comfortable, sort of like a kid being weaned off his security blanket. What I knew and was part of the landscape had changed, maybe irreparably, maybe forever, and even if it were restored, would it, or could it, ever be the same?

Time heals all wounds, but some pain cuts right to the core.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heav’n of hell, a hell of heav’n.

Fear; reality vs. perceived

Today I will be entering the Red Zone and with some colleagues we will go back into our building, the Price Waterhouse Coppers Building, 13th Floor.

Some people have reservations about this, and that's fair enough as it won't be entirely pleasant, but it is only by choice to go in, and for me it is a mix of morbid curiosity as well as recovering some items still (hopefully) on my desk. I am not in there to face any fears, extinguish any demons, or any other 'spiritual' need, it's just that I have to.

One of  my colleagues, who it would be fair to say had a particularly bad experience up there on the day posted on Facebook about making a decision to go up or not. You can imagine everybody has and had a say about it, some reasonable I suppose, some downright tacky and tack-less. I threw in my five cents worth of course, I cannot shut my mouth sometimes, but one particular response on the post got me thinking quote unquote;

 I'm with K*** on this, there is nothing that important. CTV and PGG buildings were green stickered as well. There is no way I'm going back in there.

Now I may be wrong here, but since when did a green sticker determine a building's ability to withstand an earthquake??? This twat has compared apples and pork chops; to insinuate that PGG and CTV collapsed because they were incorrectly stickered is ludicrous and the knee jerk reaction to put fear into another. The colour of the sticker is there to advise safety and suitability for people to enter and work within the building only; earthquakes and other natural disasters withstanding of course.


Warning - Green Sticker capable of giving
extremely painful paper cuts!!


If something were to happen while up there, so be it, that's just life...I could as easily be hit by a falling koala as I step out onto the footpath later on, or choke on the smoke I have once back outside..;.shit happens, no point in wrapping yourself up in cotton wool.

On my return I will possibly post again, this may well be down to how the experience affects me.

Just for the record, this is in no way meant to point out idiots of nature, they do that well enough themselves, but to make a point - this is only my view and I respect other's, but there is a logic to thinking and portraying one's thoughts suitably.

An Interview With...Me

This was an interview I was much looking forward to - I idolised Me growing up, and tried my hardest to mimic My ways, My mannerisms, My speech, My fashion, and of course My huge sex-appeal.

When I was told by Myself that I was able to interview Me, I couldn't think of what I was going to ask Me...

But then bad news...My agent called me to say that I wasn't available due to a sudden engagement, and I couldn't argue, I mean, I am a man in demand, wanted all over town, and an all round nice guy, so who I was I to stand in the way of My brilliance.

However, I have been promised a future interview with Me, so please be patient dear reader, I am no doubt sure you are just as interested in Me as I am!

Must See Movie of the Year...Angry Birds

For those of you who are as addicted to this game as me, this was worth waiting for.

For those of you not yet known to the game, get it...the plot is angry birds using themselves to destroy their mortal enemies, the pigs, to claim back their eggs, and all manner of obstacles are placed in their way to deter them. But the birds have secret powers; wrecking ball abilities, jet plane speed, boomerang flyback, eggs as bombs, and nuke-like combustion.

OK, it's just a spoof, but I reckon it is a movie worth looking forward to if it were going to happen...but if not, this is the trailer of the year.

Angry Birds - The Movie

Comic History Lesson - The Far Side

Entrance exam for politics

Last week I showcased Calvin & Hobbes - equally as good and an equal favourite of mine is the wacky and demented world (or worlds) of Gary Larson.

Who at one point or another has sat in a library, had the desktop calendar, or been in a book store (not Whitcoulls I guess anymore) flicking through a few pages of these classics and had either a) a good old laugh, and/or b) not quite understood it?

Larson is the genius behind the double-entendre, the "what we're thinking but won't say", the absurdly ludicrous...pure and utter brilliance! He would be the cartoon equivalent of Zucker, Zucker and Abrahams.

Here is just a snippet - go out and treat yourself a couple of albums of his work instead of sitting in front of the goggle box one night. You won't regret it.

Reference Letter...

I asked a boss to write a reference letter for me in looking for a new job, she just told me to write it and she would sign it. I sent her the following one, but for some reason she won't sign???

24 March 2011

Cell Block C, Rolleston Men’s Prison

Dear Sir/Madam

Re. Keith Eleftheriou

I have been Keith “The Deviant” Eleftheriou’s Case Officer for the last 7 years and apart from a few incidents early on in his internment, have found him to be a slightly above average prisoner of slightly below character.

With his parole now up for consideration, I feel he is sufficiently capable of rejoining normal society as long as he is not in any position with animals, dwarfs, social cricketers or Census Takers.

His rehabilitation for his bestiality issues have long gone and have been replaced with personal goals and projects he has taken in the ultra-high security section of the prison – as proof of his change in mind, his new motto is “you’re only gay if you take it”, and that pretty much sums this fine specimen. The rumours about his breaking this mantra in the communal showers are just speculation.

I hope that you will give him a chance at rebuilding his life and give him the opportunity to show that he is capable of anything a 12 year old could carry out, except for basic maths, English, and motor sensory perception. With his rash finally clearing, he can now hold a short conversation without drooling.

Sincerest Concerns for Your Safety

Commandant *****

Head Guard, Serious Misfit Section

All in a day's work...

The hell test drive...

A older friend of mine asked if I would look after her niece who was after a new (used) car. No worries, I had the car she was after, a Honda Integra V-Tec manual.

So anyway she fronted up as agreed, and she was a hottie! I don't mind saying it, I mean I was a salesman, and I had to act like one! So anyway, we went for a drive in this Integra and headed out to Manukau and the back roads so we could open her up...the car, not the girl!!!

So we head down this steep hill and I told her to get up some pace and see what the car was capable of, which she duly did. After a bit I looked over and saw the needle was pushing 180kph, basically off the clock for a Japanese import and as I turned to the front we came over a rise and fuck me if there wasn't road works barely 100m ahead of us! She hit the brakes, hard, and the car locked up and we screeched towards this poor young fellow with the lollipop making a hell of a racket and seemingly not slowing down enough. there was a line of cars waiting to get through the works and I was sure I was going to be in the back seat of one, if not more of them. Anyway, to this girl's credit, she kept on the brake, kept the car straight (thank god for ABS braking!) and we stopped barely a metre behind the last car in the queue. I could see the woman in the car in front looking in the rear view, her eyes like dinner plates!!! The young guy holding the STOP/GO sign was nearly in the ditch on the side of the road...and as I extracted my finger nails from the dash, this almighty cloud of burnt rubber caught up to us and carried on past - you could not see a thing through it!

Needless to say, I drove us back, and all the way the rear tyres were going dadump dadump dadump on the flat spots!

Book Review...Minstrels in the Gallery - A History of Jethro Tull



The incomparable Ian Anderson - this book is more
on him than anything, but then that's who Tull are.


You're either a Tull fan or not is how it goes...well, I am however I wouldn't say I own every album or book released like the fans portrayed in this book, but have a couple of CDs nevertheless. Being a fan specifically of Mick Abraham and Martin Barre, knowing and listening to Tull in the eighties as a teen was more an "in your face" at people who were more intent on Spandau Ballet or Flock Of Seagulls et al...

But they are a great band, of that there is not doubt but it will not suit everyone, however I bet nearly everyone will recognise (and rock to) the big hits such as Locomotive Breath, Thick as a Brick, and of course Aqualung.

But for someone interested in knowing more about the enigma that is Tull, more so Ian Anderson, listening to their music might be more informative than reading this book; this might be better suited to a die-hard fan as an appendix to almost everything they did. But in saying that, it had some great insights into the band and the man but came across too much as a resource book than a biography.

Unfortunately the photo section was lacking in anything eye catching considering some of the stories mentioned in the book not to mention they have toured almost annually since the 70s, and the discography and complete tour dates consolidated my belief this is a reference book.

Worth a read for some of the background, but not really a source of a great story considering it is on one of the great Heavy Rock/Folk bands going round.

Comic History Lesson - Calvin & Hobbes

I was once compared to Calvin, the little rascal in the cartoons by Bill Watterson. I adore these cartoons, and used to cut them from the paper every day and kept them in envelopes. I now buy the books and read them over and over again...no one has understood my love for it, yet have never read them. I think because maybe I am like Calvin (although I tend to talk to myself, not a stuffed tiger) and love the innocence and naivety (but ultimately his cynicism) he has...

Some people like Peanuts, others Footrot Flats - to each his own, but here are a few of my favourite samples from the endless laughs of a young boy and his toy...

If you haven't read it, please go out and get one of the books (Attack of the Deranged Mutant Killer Monster Snow Goons and Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat are classics). There is now a complete anthology showcasing every strip made...hmmm, $300 well spent on my birthday??? Katie?

Book Review...Morecambe and Wife

This is a softly told story by Joan Morecambe, wife of the late comic Eric Morecambe, who for you younger people and heathens, was half of one of the great 70s and 80s skit/variety shows on TV. I bet if I asked 100 people who watched the show how to do 'the dance', all could do it!

My dad was a huge fan, but then who wasn't, and with the likes of Benny Hill, The Two Ronnies, and Tommy Cooper also frequenting our living rooms, it is testament to anyone that can get such a following in amongst the talents around at the time.

Going back to Joan's account of her life with Eric I have to admit I learnt a lot about this man who up until today was just another funny guy with a goofy smile. But he was so much more than that, and while the narrative tends to be somewhat biased and through rose coloured glasses, there is no doubt that she was in adoration and awe of the man behind the glasses and he himself was not only a larger than life personality, he was also a true gentleman, father, son, and humanitarian.

While at times it felt alot like name dropping (I'm just jealous), the fact that most of the biggest names in entertainment were just as much in awe of Eric as he may have been with them.

The chapter on Eric's hobbies is humorous, as well as the early days where they travelled in a caravan (as well as Eric getting his driving license), but there were some odd moments as well, such as the dog, which seemed to lose my interest as there seemed no real relevance to the subject matter.

While this is not a Comic History lesson, I will but leave a small snippet of the genius that was Morecambe and Wise for you to relish before they do in fact come out in their own post...

Introducing The Bank Robber.

All in a day's work...

The Clairvoyant...

I was working at Honda, and while every day was generally fun, we did have some down times and we used to muck about and make it go by with a bit of interest.

The car buyer in this story was Chris, a Pommy with a wicked sense of humour. This lady came in looking to trade her car on something or rather we had and Chris said he would do some homework on her trade-in as she pretty much demanded she wasn't prepared to let it go for anything less than $8K, but it wasn't worth anything near that.

Sometime later that afternoon, Chris got most of us into his office to listen in on the phone call he was going to make to her (he showed us her business card which had her as a Spiritualist/Clairvoyant which just seems greedy to me, you're one or the other). It went something like this...try to imagine her responses...

Chris; Hi, guess who?...No, it's Chris from Honda but good try...I'm ringing back about your Ford Capri, I've got a price for it...yep, well no one really wants it but you knew that. Well if we trade it in on that car, we'll give you three grand for it................you didn't see that coming did you?

And they say you can always pick a used car salesman?

Revisiting Christchurch...

Now this might be an odd title considering I live in CHCH, but trust me, with what has happened the last fortnight or so, there has been little or no chance for me, or anyone (barring dickheads on sightseeing tours and looters!) to get back to the heart of the city and see first-hand what was the result of 22 Feb 11.

I myself had avoided going back in. No specific reason, maybe a combination of little ones; there are people trying to do a job, and they don't need me in the way; could I actually cope with seeing it; there are dead still there, it is due the respect that comes with that. But last Friday I called in on a customer who needed some assistance and their 'new' premises were on Fitzgerald Ave, one of the "four aves" of CHCH that border the no-go-zone. I have to admit, it was with trepidation that I agreed to catch up with them - the following Monday I was attending the funeral of a victim; the following Friday, the remembrance service in Hagley Park - it just didn't seem right to go in there before everyone else. But I did, and just like a script, it rained.

cnr Fitz and Kilmore

I love the rain, it makes sitting in a car, or in your house seem so much safer and cosier, but as I drove through Fendalton, past Halgey, across Bealey, and into Fitzgerald the rain took on a much more sombre and morbid tone. Things I did not notice, or blanked from that day jumped out at me on every street corner, in every house, on people's faces. It started with the roads...going along Bealey, a trip I have done so many times before at a reasonable clip had my lowered car bouncing off every undulation, bottoming out on raised manhole covers, threatening to rip the floor pan out on each subsidence. Past the Knox Church, the Carlton, and the bridge crossing the Avon River at Kilmore. The eyes were seeing, but the brain was not computing. More than once I stopped and looked at the scene around me. The first was at a Ford Laser parked on the side of the road. there was liquefaction built up around it - it obviously had not moved since that afternoon. It got me thinking; this car is outside the Red Zone, so why hasn't it been claimed? Have the owners fled? Or is the owner somewhere in the city, the car waiting, like a loyal dog, for it's owner's return. Chilling.

On Fitzgerald

Only a little further down the road, traffic was swerving from lane to lane like drunks as they avoided the numerous cracks (and not just cracks, big fuck off holes in the bitumen) and sunken holes. If it wasn't them, you risked motion sickness from the wavy nature of the surface. I have sped (ahem) down this stretch at 60-70 without a care in the world, but doing so now would risk ripping the bottom of the car out, or at best losing the front bumper.There is talk of the repair to buildings, but in looking at the roading, it seems literally ripping it all up and starting again.

To my right, the Grand Chancellor, soaring higher than most in CHCH and visible almost from anywhere - trust me, what you see on the news does not compare to seeing the potential for disaster that awaits with this structure - it is eerie. You are transfixed to it as you cannot help but think that with such a lean, it must drop right now, as you watch. It seems to defy physics.

Once I had finished with my customer, I headed back out of town via Edgeware Road. I grew up 40kms out of Cheviot on gravel roads...they were a walk in the park compared to the route I had taken here. Those with Range Rovers and Cayennes and other urban four wheel drives finally get to do what they are designed for.

Papanui Rd - used to be a pet shop here which doesn't
bear thinking about. Before, you could not see the
building behind.

The following day I had to drop out on another customer in Shirley. I took Katie and the girls with me - it was time for them to see their home and get a sense of reality so easily muffled by the medium of television. Everywhere we went, there was "we had lunch there", or "remember when we took the kids to that?"...All I can say is that there were tears, nothing more needs to be said.

If we were to be hit by another large jolt, even this positive person would admit that it could well be the end of Christchurch...I dearly hope not, I have no desire to leave...but I am just one.

Me and Katie will be attending next weeks service in the city - there is talk that we won;t be now allowed into the city itself. That is incomprehensible, however, completely understandable.

Formerly known as Bealey Ave Pharmaceutical...

What is it of the human mind that has a morbid fascination with death, destruction and despair? We see it all day in movies, and we watch shark docos despite a fear of the water, airplane crashes despite a fear of flying...and while the rest of the country, say the world, await more grisly finds, they sit comfortably back in their loungers with their tea and bikkies, we sit in the dark unsure of an uncertain future.

I was going to post this on Friday night, and with laptop open in front of the TV, me and Katie sat shocked and in tears as we watched the horrific events unfolding in Japan. Even now, I cannot get that surreal shot of the waves crashing over the coastline and into houses chasing cars up the highway...we have taken too much for granted, we have taken so much from this planet. Could it now be asking for it back?

This to me sums up the spirit here...hope.

The Futility of Life...

I started this blog with a sentence...and then deleted it.

I wrote another sentence...and then deleted it.

The third time, I realised there was only one way to start this post...and so it reads;

Katie Lee Simpkins, I love you, adore you, and could not stand to lose you.

But this sentence in itself seems so selfish in the context of our day today. At 12:30 this afternoon we arrived at Harewood Crematorium to be part of the show of strength, love and support for Rachael Fairweather-Steyant and her four children, Gabe, Zach, Bella and Alex as they laid their husband and father to rest - RIP Michael Steyant who was tragically taken from them in the PGC Building, 22 February, 2011.

If you were to die it would surely be a measure of who you were by the people, and the number of people who turned up. And the crowd that gathered this afternoon showed what a special man Michael was. I myself had only met him and Rachael last year at the Pre-school Xmas BBQ, Katie knew them little better, but after my 'chance' meeting a fortnight ago (read 'Persepctive') we both knew we had to be there.

But as much as the show of people was testament to Michael himself, it would be equally so that they and we were there for Rachael and the four kids. Amongst those there were Army Officers, teachers from our school and pre-school, rugby players, office workers and blue-collar workers...and all, and none could deny it, shed a tear or more. From the lone piper with "Amazing Grace" (what is it with that tune on pipes that gets you?) through to the modern choices played alongside a photo diary of his life;no sooner did you compose yourself from one moment, you found yourself choking back on the very next one.

It is not for me to go into too much detail for respect of those who lost an obviously great man, but it makes one think, and being the thinker and dweller that I am, I made many decisions this afternoon. But three that I would recommend all to do;

Live life. You only get one shot at it and you're a long time dead.

Friends and family are everything - I have few fears in life (OK, spiders!), but I don't ever want to die alone.

And I also had to get back and pick up my own two girls from school - I had an uncontrollable urge to hug them both, but not before hugging Rachael - I am so glad I got to, and despite the unnecessary thanks for being her 'rescuer', therein lies a special woman and Rachael, we will have that coffee again when you are ready.

Life is made up of years that mean nothing and moments that mean it all.

Comic History Lesson - The Easy Guitar Book Sketch...

I'm sure its not the first time
Lemmy's been in court!

Now me being a person who loves both music and comedy, this here is the ideal fusion of both that brings together some of the biggest names in the guitar world; Moore, Knopfler, Gilmour join bassists Lemmy and King!

As an aside, Rowland Rivron, the comic genius behind this, used to play drums for Transvision Vamp (boy does that take you back!) and for Jools Holland.

So here it is ladies and gentlemen, The Easy Guitar Book Sketch

Book Review...Ride Free Forever - The Harley Davidson Legend



Not the same cover as
I read...



I got this book out to do some homework on the Harley seeing as my mate Rob went out and bought one - although he maintains her bought one for his wife!

Anyway, it didn't take long for me to grow to appreciate the Harley legend, starting out at the turn of last century in a shed no bigger than a carport and then becoming the largest motorcycle factory in the world within 20 years.

Going through every decade, world wars, depression, and the upheaval in the 60s and 70s with AMF, this book (with grammatical and caption errors left, right and centre) lists all models and achievements in manufacturing and racing for close to the last 100 years (this was published just prior to the centenary).

I have to admit, reading through the 30s, 40s, 50s, and 60s, I have really grown to respect the big ole air compressors (as Rob used to call them) and can picture myself being one of Marlon Brando's 'Wild Ones'. I also learnt enough about them to be able to hold a conversation with a Hog owner and recognise a wider range of models...in the past I couldn't tell a Shovelhead from a Panhead, a Fatboy from a Softail, etc etc...

'47 EL Knucklehead with Springer forks...very nice. Shame about
the twin lamps.

Now I can safely say that the EL Knucklehead is one of the most stunning bikes I have ever seen, and money pending (yeah, right!) I would own one, leaks and all. And coming in behind that, the Fat Boy and Softail...nice.

A good read for anyone wanting to learn about Harleys, or anyone keen on them. Frustrating to read at times, but a great source of technical details, chronology, and photos.

I WANT ONE!

What's my name?

Sitting down and reading a book with Renee, she said 'dad'. My wife was next to me and I recalled how this morning Renee had called me 'Alfie' which is what Deanna calls me...so I said that I would prefer Renee to call me 'Alf' and turned to Renee and asked "What's my name?". Without hesitation, Renee said 'arsehole' (or something vaguely similar)...

Next I am chasing Katie through the house who couldn't stop laughing! Last time I get her to teach our daughter words!

Armageddon?????

I sit here, ready to write a new post on the state (of city and mind) in Christchurch, only to be sitting in front of Sky News watching the destruction in Japan as they have been hit, first by a 7-8 magnitude quake, and then Tsunamis, and the one hitting Sendai is what we are watching right now.

Not taking anything anything away from what we have gone through, but fuck...we had a quake, we dodged a bullet (this time) by not being hit by a Tsunami...and reports are saying 6 to 10 metres. Not even surfers would take them on!

While we deal with our own pain here, we must send our thoughts to our Pacific friends; Japan, Marshalls, Taiwan...death is a given, an hour to run to higher ground, if you survived the initial quake, seems an impossibility.

Most of you reading this were probably unaware of this, watching Glee or Master Chef, but me and Katie, sitting her watching live pictures, are sickened...watching cars trying to outrun the surge of water, houses wiped out, at speeds you cannot comprehend.

Now, it has been advised that it was in fact an 8.4 - that makes it 13 times larger than September 4, over 20 times larger than what we had here two weeks ago...incomprehensible!

Friday Drinks...Tui

It wasn't so long ago I considered this one of my top beers...in fact I had 300 stubbies at my wedding, but of late I have found myself only drinking because of its price, not because I like it. Obviously I cannot say it is because of a change in brewing, but is more likely due to a palette that (dare I say it) has become more accustomed to other flavours.

In saying that, Tui's India Pale Ale is a pretty fine drink, especially on a hot day over the BBQ, and even more so after a game of rugby.I have found in my rugby and cricket teams, you are either a Speights or Tui which is kind of interesting, even down here in Canterbury where non-Red & Black brews don't get much of a shoe-in.

Tui, a whole ad campaign that centres around bull-shitting and hot chicks (both which we can't do well) is part of the Kiwi psyche now, although more and more of the 'Yeah, Right' ads are becoming desperate.

'Honestly babe, they're not hot'...Yeah, Wrong!

For me personally, I find smoking while having Tui makes the after smell and taste seem all that much stronger. Weird.

There was a time where my whole wardrobe was almost fitted out by Tui; hats, jandals (they didn't last long), rugby jerseys, shorts, you name it. But now only with a duck hunters hat and woolley hat with a pom-pom (which she won't let me wear in public) it has all moved on.

A very good run of the mill brew, competitively priced to take on Speights with ad girls we can only dream of having (although for the sake of my marriage I will note here that I take no notice of the Tui Girls). Best had with red meats off the BBQ, definitely not a restaurant beer.

Friday Drinks...South Island Draught & Heritage Draught

Both of these draughts are from the Harringtons' stable, the former also known and labelled as SID.

SID; at time of writing, this draught was selling at $14.50/doz, and I have to admit I wasn't expecting much, however this is actually a very pleasant and easy to drink draught. While draughts have a bit more of a darker taste to them, this one is actually quite light to drink, although the first stubbie tends to bite somewhat. But subsequent bottles go down nicely. And as an odd twist, it accompanies sweet meals well...I happened to have an early Hot Cross Bun, and SID washing it down was very pleasant. Word from the brewer;
A commercial style draught light in mouth feel, sweet overtones accompanied with a biscuit and like flavour and lightly hopped.

Heritage Draught; at time of writing a dozen of these went for $15.50. Very much like SID, this is an easy to drink draught with a biting first bottle and then easier as each follows, however is nice to have to wash down red meats.
The Heritage Range is a series of beer brewed  traditionally, our in-house special, only available from our Christchurch bottlestores.
Heritage Draught is a smooth and clean drinking draught. Distinctive and traditionally styled.

Buy Red & Black

Comic History Lesson - The Muppet Show

This may seem a bit of a strange inclusion to some, but there is no doubting that the 'child' show was more adult. With a range of talents covering dancing, music, comedy and film and TV, The Muppets became an institution for the whole family. From the Kermit & Miss Piggy romance to Gonzo The Great, and Animal to the Swedish Chef, everyone has a favourite, and each favourite will likely stand out in the memory because of one scene.

For me, Animal playing the drums for Rita Moreno singing Fever stands out most for me, and Spike Milligan translating the news broadcast for the Newsreader is another stand out guest appearance, and as a third clip of choice, I cannot go past Mah Na Mah Na, a truly timeless comic sketch.


The show ran for 5 seasons in the Seventies, and actually starred a lot of relative unknowns who became bigger in time. But when you have a cast responsible for some of the most memorable TV moments, who cared?





Statler & Waldorf - Katie thinks I'm
going to be like these guys...


• Elton John singing Crocodile Rock
• Kenny Rogers singing The Gambler
• The Star Wars cast on Pigs In Space
• The drum duel between Animal and Buddy Rich

But to close up, here are some other classic sketches with only the Muppets;

• The Swedish Chef
• Fozzie The Bear
• Muppet News Flash

PS..click here for the original Mah Na Mah Na, 1969.