What a day, certainly the best start to a weekend in the New Year. I was out the door well before dawn, headphones on listening to podcasts, heading into what would become a fabulous sunrise. As I walked along Bucklands Beach I was staggered by the number of small boats and jet ski's heading along the river, flat calm, with a very low tide indicating the channel clearly. The scene from my balcony is impressive, dozens of late risers lined up waiting good naturedly for their turn at the boat ramp, the local cafes doing a roaring trade in coffees and meat pies. A wonderful reminder that we live in a very special part of the world. For those who have yet to appreciate just how bad things have got in Europe, try Googling "Taharrush".
Be prepared for fairly extreme references to Gang Rape - the new game in town for new arrivals to Europe. Rather than point the finger of blame at "refugees", Henriette Reker, the mayor of Cologne (and a scene from outside Cologne Cathedral on News years eve is below), has suggested that German women should be both more understanding of the culture of others, and should dress more demurely. Rather too late, realising that the fabric of German society is being torn asunder by dysfunctional immigrants intent on destroying all that most Germans hold dear, Chancellor Angela Merkel has started back peddling. Unfortunately her legacy has been cast, and I suspect she'll be remembered without any degree of fondness by many I've been a subscriber of the NZ Herald for 35 years, and before that was brought up in a home where it was revered as a bastion of knowledge and investigative journalism. Whilst retrieving the Monday edition from my letterbox and ruminating on how scrawny it had become, I also reflected on how frequently I'd been disappointed in its recent lack of depth, the decline in its standards of reporting, and how often I disagreed with what I believe have become ever biased views. By coincidence there was an invoice in the mail from the NZ Herald for the next years subscription in the post for the princely sum of $869.93, which seems a lot for a paper whose main attraction to me had become the Sudoku. Deciding to bring to an end a lifetime's relationship that had become an embarrassment, I used the email address on the invoice to notify the Herald of my decision, and requesting a final account.They emailed back advising that they do not accept terminations by email, and that I'd have to phone them. I sent a further email advising that they'd had all the notice they'd be getting. A ignominious end to a relationship with what has become an increasingly irrelevant and tawdry rag From "No Minister" blog Pretty strong stuff from "No Minister" Blog. http://nominister.blogspot.co.nz/2016/01/sending-all-wrong-signals.html Yet another dropkick lawyer rebranded as a District Court Judge falls for a sob story from a smart Lawyer and possible judge in waiting. A mixed race thug gets all twisted over his ex Babe going out to a public bar with another potential inseminator so the big brave bastard follows the interloper into a toilet of the Bar where the change in social structure was discovered and gives him the bash. Another brave Idiot now assessed as a DC Judge but totally disconnected from reality, Peter Rollo, accepts that a conviction for such an attack "could prejudice the thugs future", so enters a discharge without conviction and orders the thug to purchase an alternative concept of unforeseen consequences at a cost of $500 to be paid to the unfortunate victim as compensation for "emotional harm". Mr Idiot Rollo, would that constitute Justice if Mr Promising Rugby Player and cowardly thug should give you the bash in a men's toilet because he was offended by a perfectly lawful and accepted social behaviour you had embarked on, say not standing aside for his clearly better self to enter the said restroom first. Maybe you could have made your inexplicable understanding of crime and consequences more 2016 by giving Mr 'Thug' Teariki Two Dads, permanent name suppression so the coward could carry on with his life while having all other aspiring rugby players in Wellington sharing the stigma guilt for his thuggery. Mr Ben - Nicholas needed to be given a clear message that because an Ex GF had seen sense to drop him for someone else, now revealed as completely understandable, and his idea that he, having the temerity to supersede you as a preferred mate resulting in you asserting your masculine basic stone age response is all so wrong that most have now consigned it to history. So The cowardly thug locked in primeval behaviour might have to change direction for a career path, he and his all too numerous ilk need to get such basic thinking to the forefront of their conception of what constitutes acceptable behaviour but Mr Judge Rollo has failed us all, his employers, by his abject failure. I wonder if the world will change dramatically over the weekend. German politicians, having failed to continue to suppress the fact that 30 plus young German women were groped (and worse) outside Cologne Cathedral on New Years Eve by men of "North African" or "Arabic" appearance are now being urged to be understanding of the cultures of others - ok, so you may have been attacked, had your possessions stolen and been violated but in the interest of not offending our new visitors, suck it up - hmmm Why is it that if you're a "white, middle class, Christian male" there are no excuses for some behaviour, but if you fall outside this model, exceptions are made (expected).. I wonder if the borders between European countries that have been invisible for decades but have now reappeared will help stem the flow of illegal immigrants. I wonder if North Korea really has developed a Hydrogen Bomb, and if so how long will it be before they use it. I wonder if President Obama's continued efforts to reign in gun sales will continue to have the inverse effect - sales spike after every speech. I wonder if the weather forecast for tomorrow will be on the money - Harley ride to Kaiaua! The inevitability that Dick Smith was going to fail sooner rather than later was fairly obvious to anyone remotely aware of the share market - at least for a few weeks leading up to it finally tipping into receivership earlier this week. The cynicism of the Banks should come as no surprise - flush with cash after pre-Christmas and Boxing day sales, creditors weeks or months away from expecting payment and the added bonus of "selling" gift vouchers that had no cost, there was simply no better time. Neither the morality of an Australian Company selling worthless gift vouchers and Aussie banks being cynical are any surprise to me, perhaps second only to the ruthless cold hearted efficiency and rapaciousness of another predator, the receivers. Sold by its founder in 1982, Dick Smith traded on solidly for 30 odd years before becoming the plaything of various corporates determined to turn up the heat and squeeze greater returns from a company that was succumbing to greater competition, reduced margins and tired management. Eventually bought by Anchorage Capital, an investment capital company, who like putting lipstick on a pig, dollied up the company, convincing shareholders that it had a value of on of A$540m before relaunching it onto the share market in January 2014. . Several major banks obviously succumbed to persuasion and snake oil of the offering, tipping hundreds of millions into the pot, and one can have little sympathy for them - perhaps another example of greed over coming prudence. Shareholders experienced a rough ride as they watched their investment spiral from the list price of A$2.20 to A$0.20 before the receivers were appointed on Monday. So, in the scheme of things, who gets paid first? The banks already have the cash - albeit not nearly enough to cover what is owed. The receivers take next lick - a partner will probably charge $600hr, a junior $300hr Wages - anyone still employed now will be paid BUT any holiday pay outstanding is probably a goner GST - don't muck around with the IRD... Secured creditors - there may be some suppliers who have an element of protection, who can reclaim goods as yet unsold. Unsecured creditors - anyone holding a gift voucher is included in this unhappy group, the bottom of the heap, and short of a miracle or the largesse of another party, unlikely to get anything at all. In legal terms, the directors of any company are obligated to ensure that they are not "trading whilst insolvent", and in this instance you'd have to wonder. It may well be that they are taken to task, but this will be of cold comfort to anyone with a worthless voucher It is my personal view that the banks have proven themselves to have acted without prudence or proper control, the directors have shown a deplorable degree of incompetence, and the end result, particularly continuing to sell gift vouchers they knew to be worthless borders on the criminal. The first weekend of the New Year is traditionally reserved for the Auckland Harley Club's Fish & Chip annual ride. As you'd expect, there is a bit of a ride involved (nearly 500kms, round trip) - our destination is Bobby's Takeaways on the Strand, on Tauranga's waterfront. This years ride had been very wisely postponed for 24 hours due to very inclement weather and we enjoyed the end result - the day was perfect. Typically supported by those .riders who had not headed away for the holiday period, keen to get out and enjoy quiet country roads while club mates sun themselves at Pauanui and Whangamata. A very civilized 9.30 departure from BP South allowed early arrivers to enjoy breakfast and coffee, listening for the roar of other Harleys arriving in ones and twos, all keen to get underway. As usual, true to form and living up to his reputation as the "World's fastest Indian", Burt (nick named in honour of Burt Munro) arrived just as we were about to leave. 20 Harleys formed up before being lead out by Joe, all determined to enjoy the day, wondering whether holiday traffic would interfere in the days riding - thankfully it didn't. A blast along the motorway followed by an hour of magnificent country riding saw us arrive at the quaint old resort town of Te Aroha, nestled at the base of the Kaimai ranges, once famous for its therapeutic hot springs, now pretty much off the beaten track and forgotten by most, A welcome pit stop, with the public toilets seeing good patronage. Back on the bikes Tauranga bound, with more almost deserted rural riding to enjoy, the high light for many being the ride up the Kaimai's, long winding corners being enjoyed at speed, hoping there were no enthusiastic young policemen keen to lecture old buggers on Harleys about the evils of speeding... The hardworking people from Bobby's Takeaways had also suffered from the effects of wild weather and were closed - it had been too rough to send boats out fishing so they were enjoying a rare long weekend. Instead we parked our bikes up and wandered along the Strand, with plenty of other places for a mass of leather clad Harley people to enjoy lunch. Road captain Crads had broken open the club piggy bank and made a very welcome contribution to lunch, so we really were spoiled - having said that, a quite a few of our number had to wait patiently as an over worked kitchen struggled to cope. Jeff and I were on a bit of a deadline and left our hungry buddies, heading back to the big Smoke, putting great faith in my trusty radar detector to keep us out of trouble - another great day on the road! Many of us look to the new year to provide closure for the year just ended - especially if it has been a tough one. with the ringing in of 2016, hopefully most will have reason to look forwards with optimism and hope rather than backwards with regret. Our New Years Eve saw us with friends Dave & Debbie on the boat tucked out of the stiff breeze at Motuihe Island, my small Weber BBQ pressed into service, the ladies as usual having catered extravagantly. A very pleasant evening spent winding down the clock. Being a creature of habit, my first morning of 2016 began at 4.30am, a few short hours after retiring having seen in the New Year with too many Pinot noir's, out the door a few minutes later, headphones, sneakers and Harley cap indicating my intentions - if I had a dog I'd be invisible, instead of a big guy lumbering around the neighbourhood in the predawn with no apparent purpose. The wind was howling even more ferociously than the night before, the whitecaps in the channels and off the beaches providing hardy boaties smart enough to be tucked somewhere out of the elements an excuse to say in bed. There were quite a few people along Eastern Beach, some in the final stages of celebrations (having run out of booze or energy), and plenty crashed out, either sound asleep in cars along the beach front, or where they'd passed out in the open. Over the past week I've seen a couple sleeping on the beach, possibly living rough, but seemingly prepared with sleeping bags and blankets, oblivious to passers by who, like me, try to give them the space to sleep on undisturbed. This morning they'd moved from beach to boardwalk, this unforgiving mattress testament to their commitment to sleep outdoors - whilst the howling wind was causing no disturbance, the onset of rain was imminent so hopefully they had a Plan B ready. I was surprised at the number of other people on the beach - many not all night revellers, rather having arrived in the darkness hoping to witness the first sunrise of the New Year. Unfortunately their efforts were to be fruitless, low cloud providing the virgin sun with a cloak of invisibility that was going to disappoint them. So, the New Year - an opportunity to continue to build on the things that appear to be going well, an opportunity to wipe the slate clean where appropriate, like going to confession to purge the soul, our calendar allows us to restart the process. I'll use this dreary day to work at my desk, putting plans in place (plotting and scheming) in an effort to make 2016 a good one. |
Don MalcolmA perfect day involves being on my Harley with a long ride ahead.
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