Monday, February 26, 2007

a man thing

I've always been very polite and tolerant. Whether its been door slamming, party music, lateness, organisational mix-ups or whatever. If I'm the incovenienced party I'm always the "oh, that's alright, don't worry" type of guy.

People take advantage of my politeness. People who have an agenda. People like clipboard charity workers who accost you on the streets. People like telemarketers who call at the worst time. People like call-centre operators who leave you hanging on forever. Yet somehow I find the words "oh, that's alright, don't worry" slipping right out of my mouth before I even know it. It's not alright

I've noticed this. Sometimes I notice it too late to do anything about it then I wish I'd said something at the time. I hate when I do that.

For me, I've learnt there's a time to be tolerant and polite (and it's most of the time) but when its not that time - its time to speak your mind, bluntly and in plain language without dressing things up or circumventing the subject of your greivance.

We called a builder the other day wanting him to come around at the weekend. "Oh he said, I'm just filling up with petrol - email your details and I'll be in touch". 3 days later (and after the weekend window) he called back "Oh, er, I just got my emails." So can you come around on Wednesday at 7pm? Yes, OK

We normally get home around 6.30pm so we thought we tackle business then settle down to eat. So, nows nearly 7 and I'm in the kitchen preparing dinner. I'm cooking salmon so I don't want to over cook it. I'll chuck it in at quarter past then it'll be ready for when we're all done.

7.10pm and no sign of him. Tummies rumble.

7.20pm and nothing's changed. Not a call to tell us a reason or to give an eta

7.30pm I'm hungry and now I'm pretty pissed off.

A short while later they bowl on in. Nigel and Craig. "Sorry we're late" says Nigel "we've been to a function". Evidently they have - and it has been a function with quite a lot of booze, because Craig is pissed.

Tracey shows them around while I continue making dinner. I'm gobsmacked and stand blinking and speechless in the kitchen while I chop vegetables. As I reach the last carrot I realise that actually this is not fair, this is not acceptable and I will say something.

Outside Tracey is with them both.

"Can I ask a question?" I say
"Sure", says Nigel.
"In future, if you're going to be more than half an hour late, can you give us a call?"

Fairly tactful, I thought considering I could have said "You're fucking late, your mate's pissed and you've interrupted our dinner. What kind of prick would I be if I gave you the fucking job? You're not exactly giving the best first impression nor are you making me brim with confidence that you'd actually fucking turn up if I gave it to you. So fuck off!

"We were at a function, you see", simpered Nigel
"What and you couldn't phone and tell us you'd be late?"
"Nah, couldn't get out you see"
"No texting allowed either then?"
"Well, er, we we're due to come at 6pm then you're wife changed it to 7pm"
"Yeah, I know that" Actually you we're due to come at 6.30pm and it was changed to 7pm
"WHEN IN DOUBT DON'T DO BUSINESS AFTER 6", shouts a drunk Craig further up the path
"Well, we have to work for a living - so do most people"
"We usually work for millionaires you see. They're always around."
Go and work for them then, I guess they put up with shit customer service.

I glowered at them. They left.

It may be an Alpha male thing but I needed to show them what was what off-the-bat, that I wouldn't be a customer that was a soft touch. So lets be really fucking clear, gents I am your potential customer. Do not think you can treat me like this and I'll be okay with it. You should know better and you will be more professional in the future - that is, if you have one at all.

we're okay

Some of you may be concerned. If any New Zealand news actually reaches the rest of the world then most of you would have heard about:

THE BIGGEST EARTHQUAKE TO HIT AUCKLAND IN 30 YEARS!

Yes, that's right. 4.5 on the richter scale and only 30km away from where we live, thundering in just last Wednesday.

Shock? Horror? Devastation?

No. We didn't feel a thing. Not a rumble, shimmy or tremor. Granted, we were watching Lost, which is particularly engrossing but the first we heard of it was when we received a text "JESUS, IS UR HOUSE STILL STANDING? WE FELT THAT ALL THE WAY OVER HERE."

"She's texted the wrong person, the silly bint", I said flippantly. But I was wrong, it was described by various people "like a truck hitting the building", some said "like somebody grabbing the back of my chair and banging it against the wall for 10 seconds"

Read all the comments from the Herald here

Notice most non-aucklanders are saying "toughen up, that was nothing. Until there's a 40ft chasm in your bedroom and you can see the night sky from your sofa, you haven't lived.

Tuesday, February 13, 2007

rob and rachel’s wedding (pt 1)

It's a bit of headfuck when 4 guys you went to college with in London suddenly step out into a hotel car par 11 years later in New Plymouth, New Zealand, all within 2 minutes of eachother.

I knew they would be there, however it was truly the weirdest 8 minutes of 2007 so far.

When Markie came to visit, I did double takes for ages. We would be in a shop browsing then I'd head towards a rack and this guy would follow me. Who the fuck is that all up in my space? Oh...its you. I was so used to seeing him in another context and on another continent that each time he came into view it was a complete surprise.

So after a long drive to NP, we check into the hotel and start unloading the car - out pops Neil Wardrop, Gary, Rob Hackett and Rich Horne.

Last time I saw Garry was at a club in East Village in New York when my band G-tone went on tour in 2001, the others maybe a few years before that.

There was however, little time to stop and chat. We were off to a Powhiri pronounced Po-fear-ee. A Maori welcome ceremony. After the hongi (the traditional "kiss" of touching noses), the men took there seats at the front and the women dutifully remained in the rear.

It was this simple respect for tradition that actually left me a bit adrift. I spend all my time with Tracey - at home, when we dine out, when we travel. Not sitting next to her but knowing she was in the room was a strange sensation - it passed though.

The Gundesen family (from the littl'uns to the old folks) sang songs, made speeches and we were warm and wecolming in every way.

Soon after, it was to business as the boys were split from the girls by our Maori hosts. The girls remained inside to learn Poi and sing while the boys were taught the magnificent All Blacks Haka.

Personally, I have always wanted to learn this ever since I saw a whole group of school children join a Maori cultural presentation in Waitangi. Every single one of them knew it by heart and I realised that in the future, if my kids ever wanted me to help teach them I'd be at a complete loss.

Now I know better. First we ran through the words and the pronounciations: "KA MATE, KA MATE, KA ORA, KA ORA!", we all chanted. It felt awesome! Even those who had only flown in from the UK that morning were totally up for it.

Then it was on the actions: the slapping of the thighs, the hauling of the nets, taking the sun from the sky. Once we had the actions,we went on to synching them with the words. I was good with the beginning and end, just a bit fuzzy in the middle.

We were given only 15 minutes to nail this, then we returned to the hall. The girls went first and did a fantastic job of the Poi and singing. Tracey looked so confident and cute like a little Maori princess (a description from a Maori friend. Tracey often gets mistaken for Maori due to her similar Maltese features).

Silence fell on the hall as the men took their places. Then Rob (the groom) let rip. "KA MATE, KA MATE", he belted. "KA ORA, KA ORA", the group responded. My first thought after our response was fuck me, we're loud, this is great! We chanted on:

Tēnei te tangata
pūhuruhuru
Nāna nei i tiki mai
whakawhiti te rā
'Ā upane, ka upane
Ā upane, ka upane
Whiti te rā,
hī!

On the hī! we all let our eyes roll back in our heads and stuck our tougues out, "bleeeugh". Everyone appplauded and the girls loved it. It felt very maculine - a "Fight Club" buzz affirming that we were once warriors, hunters, providers. It also proved to be a bit of an aphrosdisiac, they should definitely put the haka in the marriage manual. The testosterone hung in the air for ages afterwards and an inspection of my thighs revealed scarlett swellings and soon-to-be bruises on both.

After the performances it was on to the hangi - the feast. The men dug out the food from the pit. Chicken, Beef, Pork, Kumura, it was all there. The wine flowed and the wedding party left with full hearts and even fuller bellies.

An early night in preparation for the following big day.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

what I am

I'm making a list of things I think people notice about me:

  1. I sit on the floor cross-legged and sometimes I do this on chairs, freaking people out as it looks like I don't have legs.

  2. I clear my throat alot rather than cough.

  3. I click my neck (and a few other joints)

  4. I pull out hairs from my chin. This not a nervous habit. Sometimes I find one super-thick hair amongst all the others and have to liberate it.

  5. I play air drums and am "a tapper". I can't help it. In the office or in the car. Music is life.

  6. I adjust the family jewels.

  7. I expect hospitality workers to have a clue. Steak knifes with a steak, spoon with long pasta etc

Okay 7 is enough for now. Readers can add more if they wish in the comments box (except my wife :P)

Sunday, February 04, 2007

green man flashing

So you're in any country in the world trying to cross a road. There's a crossing control with traffic lights (so thats a good start). The lights indicate you should cross, so you begin - only to find that the "don't cross" signal pings on when you're halfway across. Damn! Do you make a run for it?

If this has happened to you, you'll know that pedestrian signals in different cities across the world have differing personalities and ideosyncrasies. In New York its "WALK" or "DON'T WALK", an unusual choice of phrase because most of us have been doing exactly that for most of the day before arriving at the crossing. Also not very inclusive for those with disabilities or without command of English.

In London its the "Red Man standing" or "Green Man walking". Definitely a more communicative solution and one that's copied in many other places. But I found some crossing signals in London were just plain liars. It was safe to cross and yet they held you back needlessly. If you were a local you'd get to know which ones lied and which ones didn't. Tourists were conspicuous by their reluctance to move while all those around them were crossing.

In Auckland, visitors often perceive our crossings as too short. What happens is that the the red signal pings on earlier than other countries leadinmg to the perception of having to make a run for it. In actuality one has the same amount of time to cross as everywhere else but the early red signal doesn't make it feel that way.

So, returning to the halfway across the road scenario - what do you do? Stop in the middle, run back or run to the other side and hope you make it?

Answer: none of the above. You install new signals that give you a visual countdown so you know exactly how much time you have.

Genius! Top marks Auckland City Council