Cracker by Damian Christie

A friend turned up late to the Halloween Party we were all at on Friday night. Her and her partner have bought their first house in a pleasant, but largely state-house suburb on the fringes of Auckland City. As she took note of the party-goer's costumes (a stormtrooper, Sarah Palin post-assassination, an assortment of mummies) she told us of the trick or treaters that came to her door.

One group of children turned up, half a dozen or so "with barely a costume between them." One had a cowboy hat, another was wearing rollerskates. As she handed out the candy to the children one by one, she asked each of them with interest (she's a teacher) who they'd come as.

"So you're a… cowboy?" she asked the young man in the cowboy hat.

"Yep" he nodded, accepting his lollypop.

"And you're a rollerskater?"

"Yes."

As she made the rounds, a young boy came to the porch, simply wearing a sweatshirt and trackpants.

"And what are you?"

"Glenn Close."

"Sorry, did you say Glenn Close?"

"Yup."

"Glenn Close?" she repeated, searching his outfit for clues.

"Yup. Glenn Close."

"Glenn Close the actress? From Damages?"

"No…" he repeated frustratedly, gesturing at his shirt and pants. "I got clean clothes."

For the past six months or so, or at least as long as anyone’s been focusing on the General Election, I’ve been saying Labour will form the next Government. So rather than pop up in a month or so and say “see, I told you”, I’ll put all my chips down on Red right now, while the wheel’s still spinning, the ball still bouncing.

The odds aren’t quite as long as they were a few months ago, when reporters were on telly saying “this one’s National’s for the losing”. Even though Labour’s polling hasn’t changed dramatically, its chance of forming the next Government has. Over at the political stock market, the odds have risen from the low to mid thirties through June, July and August, and are currently at 46 percent.

As the polling settles somewhat – and one thing’s for sure, National was never going to get an absolute majority this election, regardless of what the polls said – once again it comes down to who can work with whom. Without a majority, Labour have successfully stitched together Governments for three terms now. It even managed to make this current one, with the farcical Minister-Outside-of-Government Winston “Baubles” Peters, go the distance. I certainly didn’t have any money on that.

All this talk from Key, and continued by the media, in the past week about the “five-headed monster” is ridiculous. It’s the same “five-headed monster” that’s been running the country for the past three years. Well, the Greens aren’t part of the current Government (is Minister Peters? Is Minister Dunne?), but have had an influence on policy nonetheless.

And if National lead a four-headed coalition (with Dunne, Act and the Maori Party), is that something less than a monster? Even if the coalition has only three heads, but one of those is Roger Douglas, will it not resemble Cerberus, the three-headed hound which guards the gates to hell? Well, probably not. But if John Key can’t sleep because there’s a monster under his bed (and he is looking rather tired recently), he’d better find something productive to do with all those sleepless hours. Personally I'd go down to my room of gold coins, and frolick like Scrooge McDuck.

What happens after the election is going to be as much a tale of who’s going to go back on their word as anything else. Key’s ruled out Winston, and this week ruled in Peter “D also stands for Dynamic” Dunne. The Greens have ruled National out. Hide won’t sit around a table with Peters, even though Peters says he has no problem with Act, “if Hide changes his jacket” – Peters says “all bets are off” when it comes to his support. Jim Anderton won’t work with National, but that’s neither here nor there. The Maori party could work with either National or Labour, but that decision will be based on hui, where the grass roots’ second choice is clearly Labour. When it comes to those hui, the Nats have that whole nagging “We’d like to abolish the very means by which you got into Parliament” policy against them.

Labour on the other hand, will work with anyone.

Place your bets.

I don't know who it was that said "kindness is its own reward", but they were just being a tight-arse. Actually, it sounds like the sort of thing my father would say, along with some other rubbish about how "every day is Kids' Day" when we'd ask about Mother's or Father's Day.

But Things My Father Might Say is a whole 'nother blog for another day. A blog that will probably also include some reference to my brand new jeans already looking worn out.

Today, it's time to restoke the still smoldering embers of the "Tell me your Best Customer Service Experience". Yawn, you say, we did this the other week. Well yes you did, but this time there are GREAT PRIZES.

If you've already told your story over here, then you don't need to re-tell it, but of course you can add more detail, or tell another story. I'll be sole judge and prize distributor, but feel free to give me your opinions as to who should win, or back up others.

The winners will get one or more of the prizes on offer, and where the person/people who gave the great service is identifiable, they might get something too. It's all going to be arbitrarily decided by me depending on what you guys come up with - suffice to say all prizes will be distributed, we're not like those magazines that pretend to give away cool shite like phones and ipods and sunglasses and then you see the staff around town with them (you know who you are...).

So the prizes are as follows (and I might add to this as well, but anyone would be happy with what's here already, surely):

1. A return trip for TWO anywhere within NZ, courtesy of Air New Zealand.

Yes, a nice man from Air New Zealand got in touch after my last blog, we had a chat, he apologised for the bad service, and I suggested giving a couple of tickets to you guys might help their cause. See, always thinking of you :) Whether or not you choose to check your luggage is entirely your decision of course, but I know Air New Zealand are hoping for some good customer service stories of their own too, so I reckon you’ll be okay.

(There will probably be all sorts of terms and conditions of an airliney-type nature, but suffice to say if you live somewhere in NZ near an airport, and you want to go somewhere else near an airport, that'll probably work.)

2. A 900Mhz USB modem, courtesy of Vodafone.

It's the skinny white boy of modems, stick it in the side of your laptop and bang, you're connected to the information superhighway, at 3G speeds. Apparently anyway, I don't really understand technology, but it's worth hundreds of dollars and it's yours for free, so that's gotta be good.

(I dare say this also requires a Vodafone account, and will cost you money to use and so forth, kids ask your parents first etc, but I'm just the gift horse here, stop looking me in the mouth.)

3. A copy of Jamie Oliver's latest book, Jamie's Ministry of Food, courtesy of the lovely people at Penguin Books.

Yes, he can come across as a bit of a prat, but take it from someone who has a cupboard full of his recipe books, when it comes to tasty, simple food that looks good on a plate and will impress people, it's hard to go past Jamie Oliver.

This latest book goes back to the basics, and is great for someone just starting out, while those who know their way around a kitchen will still find plenty to try out.

4. Monteith's New Zealand Lager, and a selection of socks from Jockey & Holeproof, (thanks Pead PR).

Mmmm.... beer. Mmmm... Clean comfy socks. One makes your morning just that much better, another rounds off a hard day just perfectly. Which is which, is up you. Or mix and match - who knew that sports socks also make great beer holders?

I have a dozen of Monteith's yummy New Zealand lager and a dozen pairs of assorted socks to give away - the beers will stay together, the socks may be split between winners.

(There's probably some bullshit liquor advertising competition rule about this sort of stuff, but this is the Interweb and your rules don't apply here, so bugger off Nanny State. However you will need to be 18, because that's just sensible.)

(Socks are just socks. No terms and conditions. Just put them on your feets and enjoy.)

Okay, you know what to do, unleash your stories by clicking the discuss button below. You have a week, or until such time as I blog next, whichever is furtherest away. So get cracking.

The funniest phrase I've heard in some time was uttered a month ago by Mr Russell Brown. In his review of the APRA Silver Scrolls awards, he referred to me as being "a danger to shipping". I like it because while I've no idea what it's supposed to mean, it's such a visual image it's hard not to at least get the gist. A rudderless ship, careening out of control. Or, as I prefer, a semi-submerged shipping container, lurking about two metres under the water, endangering all passersby.

Whether it was that night, or the fact summer is just around the corner and I've a new bikini to fit into, the aftermath of the Silver Scrolls gave me pause for thought. I've had worse nights on the piss, and I tend to measure their severity by the number of days I spend with with Involuntary Cringe Recollections (ICRs). A few ICRs the next morning are commonplace – "did I really say that? Oh God." When the ICRs stretch into the next day you know you have exceeded yourself – "I hope he doesn't remember me saying that… I wonder if I should apologise." And occasionally the ICRs of a particular moment stick around a week or more. Those are the nights I'd like to avoid.

I have some friends who change markedly when they drink. You can spot it a mile away, Dr Jekyll develops an observable glaze over his eye and out comes Mr Hyde, who bears no resemblance to his former self. In my experience, these people also seem to let their Mr Hydes out a little too often.

I don't change that markedly. Instead I become 150% myself. And those aren't always the best traits: Louder. Arrogant. More of a show-off. Obnoxious-for-effect. Lascivious. And on those nights, I can drink a lot.

Waking up on the Monday following the awards, having polished off a litre of spirits by myself on the Sunday afternoon (not a common occurrence, but the ease with which I did it was concerning), and being unable to recall even a week without drinking in the past 18 years, I decided to try something. A month off the sauce. My month ended yesterday.

Starting was the hardest thing. Monday became Tuesday, thanks to a Moet-supplied Fashion week opening, but it was then I realised there was always going to be some excuse or another. A friend's birthday – "come on man, you have to have a drink for my birthday – don't be boring"; a romantic weekend away in the Coromandel; or just a day out fishing on my mate's boat – every occasion seems to call for a few drinks.

I’m not going to lie, over the past month I ended up having a drink here and there. But never more than a couple, never drunk, and on most occasions, including weekends and some big nights out with friends, I had none.

It's been revelatory.

I've lost a bit of weight (3kg or so), weight that a couple of years of sporadic gym attendance and eating relatively well had failed to budge. I've started running a bit too, which I'd never enjoyed before, and ran 10km the other day, the longest I've ever run in my life – a half marathon is next – watch out David.

I've realised how boring being drunk makes most people (and obviously must apply that to myself). Not just the Mr Hydes out there, but pretty much everyone. If you're an interesting drunk it's because you're even slightly more interesting when you're sober. The idea of having to get drunk to make everything seem interesting again ("you're the only one being boring") seems a zero-sum-game.

Being in control can be a kick in itself. Of course it can also be appalling, and I've had occasions were I've excused myself to go and stand in a toilet cubicle for a few minutes simply because people were doing my head in.

I've discovered what it feels like to have seven full days each week, including mornings. Turns out you can get a bit of stuff done.

I've noticed how incredible the peer pressure around drinking is. Maybe my friends and acquaintances drink more than others, maybe they don't. When I gave up smoking, most people – even smokers – were really supportive. Everyone knows it's an undesirable habit that's best left behind. No-one says "Come on dude, you've got to have a cigarette for my 30th." But drinking? I reckon it'd be easier Coming Out at a rugby aftermatch in Taranaki than telling the boys you're not drinking for a bit.

The biggest relevation is how utterly unsurprising most of my findings were, but how much I needed to be reminded of them.

I have a friend who gave up drinking for a month, and three months on hasn't touched a drop. He gave up smoking around the same time too. While we were out spending obscene amounts on vinyl the other weekend (some vices aren't worth shaking) he told me that alcohol had been his longest relationship, around 18 years, and it was the only one he'd never questioned. But once he had, it seemed to make absolutely no sense.

I'm not going dry. But nor am I, as some of my friends expect, going to celebrate the end of my month by getting sideways. I enjoy the taste of a nice glass of wine, and a cold crisp beer on a hot day is something I will not give up. I expect there will be some occasions over the summer months when I'll wake up late in the morning and reach for the Ibuprofen. But it'd be good to think they won't be a regular item on my grocery list.
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I haven't forgotten about the Customer Service Competition. Your entries have been noted and some good, big, prizes are being amassed. Look out towards the end of the week, or early next.

As you may recall, I wrote the other day about Air New Zealand losing my luggage. Well there’s still no luggage, and still no word back from anyone nearer the top in response to their appalling customer service from “Milly” in Wellington. I know the blog has been forwarded on to various heads of departments, so it’s clear the PR strategy at work here is “ignore it, and it will go away.”

Which is fair enough I suppose, because it will. I mentioned it briefly last week, I’m mentioning it now, but I’m unlikely to say anything further, if only because it’ll bore you as much as it will bore me.

(NB: By accident rather than design, I flew Qantas from Wellington to Auckland the other day. Really good customer service (“can I hang that up for you, sir?”), nice plane, good snacks. I’ll be doing that again. Like, um, pretty much every time I fly domestic from now on.)

However in the meantime I have also managed to cover New Zealand Fashion Week for television, radio and print, without mentioning its naming sponsor (a certain luggage-losing airline). Even when someone I’ve interviewed has mentioned the airline, I’ve been able to edit it out – because I can. Something I wouldn’t have felt inclined to do if the luggage had gone missing, but the follow up had been good.

Yeah it’s probably petulant, but at the same time, don’t you think it’s interesting how readily we adopt naming rights sponsors’ brands into titles? Especially for those of us in the media, how often we say, for example, the “Vodafone Warriors” as opposed to “The Warriors”. I suppose if no-one did, there’d be no point in paying for naming rights. And the Vodafone Warriors would be worse off for it. So as a fan, you should probably include the Telco’s brand when you’re down at the pub, commiserating about the team’s loss on Saturday night. Or maybe Vodafone would rather distance themselves right about now, I’m not sure.

Which reminds me of a story, I’m not sure whether it’s true, of the Warriors’ early days, when DB Bitter was the sponsor. After a less than impressive first few seasons, the branding was subtly changed. Instead of “Proud Sponsor of the Warriors”, the tag line became “Loyal Sponsor of the Warriors.”

Anyway. The main point of this post, when I wrote the heading above, wasn’t to talk about Air New Zealand or the Vodafone Warriors. It was to take (and give) the opportunity instead to say something positive.

When I was hosting the TVNZ 7 Internet Debate last week – which by the way I think went very well – Russell took the opportunity towards the end of the night to thank the politicians (I think principally David Cunliffe and Maurice Williamsons) for their good work; for what they have done, rather than the debate about what they should or are going to do. I scoffed, jokingly, and asked Fran O’Sullivan if she had a harder question. But it was a point well made, and a deeper point beyond: We don’t thank people enough, or recognise those who are doing good work. So here’s your chance.

I’m going to start things off with a few. The other week I mentioned the guy at Air NZ Baggage Services in Auckland, who went out of his way to find me $100 even though the cashiers had cashed up. I thought that was important, particularly as a contrast to the now well-documented poor service from one person in Wellington. And Ken, at Palmerston North Airport, he’s been good too, following up by phone as to why I haven’t filed my claim form yet (it’s because there were about 70 individual items in that bag I need to get quotes/proof of purchase for).

Beyond that, and just in the past few days, I’d also like to say thanks to Bill, at the workshop at Shell Williamson Ave, where I’ve just taken the Holden for a WOF. Really good customer service there – even down to little things, like introducing himself to me and shaking my hand when I first went in there. I’ll go there again, and again.

I want to give ‘big ups’ to the Auckland City Council Parking Warden who let me off about $500 worth of fines the other day – my WOF and rego had expired, the car was booked in for Monday (I’d had to postpone my previous appointment to fly to Wellington last week) – as I ran out to the car, having just stopped in to drop something off. “There’s two hours free parking out the back there mate”, he helpfully pointed out, “just keep it off the street until Monday”, as he cancelled the tickets he’d already started issuing. That’s right, already started issuing.

There’ll be more to come as I remember them, but there’s a few to start with. Now it’s your turn. Let’s not turn this thread into the opposite (honestly, I have one police communications spokesperson I’m seriously struggling not to gripe about here), let’s try and get those good vibrations going…

A few things before I go. First, there’s a new issue of Metro out, with a feature from yours truly, inside the walls of Mt Eden Prison. It was fascinating to research, I hope it’s half as so in print.

Second – from my “it’s a tough job” file, my experiences as a rookie rally driver for a Mitsubishi Magazine piece are now available online here.

And finally, there’s an all new political blog thingy over at pundit.co.nz – ever wondered what happened to TV3’s Jane Young? Wonder no more. And check out this column from my good mate, Victoria University Politics Guru Dr Jon Johannson.

Right, start telling me your good stories...

UPDATE: Just to show that kindness is not only its own reward, I'm going to offer two prizes (details tbc, but I'll make them worth your while) for your tales of good customer service/samaritans - one for the teller, the other for the customer service person in question, where they can be identified. So jump in there - and if you're a company who wants to donate something for the prize hamper, send me feedback below.