Posts by 81stcolumn
Last ←Newer Page 1 2 3 4 5 Older→ First
-
We recently enjoyed the company of a First Nations friend from Canada who pointed out both the similarity between avatar and pocanontas as well as the offensive nature of both tales. Not that I think this would have swayed the academy's judgement.
I believe an extended phrase would be "wild at heart and weird on top". Would a member of the Wellingtonista like to comment ?
-
Have you seen what the Bloody Nasty Party have been up to lately ?
-
Paul -
I sympathise, Napeir seems to have acquired its very own Prince Charles mentality (I wonder what Brits have to look forward to with Bill the Balding....).
But by way of a modest couterpoint Napier is conspicuous and people travel to see the buildings there, surely there must be something learned form that ?
Even the city of dreaming spires struggles at times
-
@81st - what a great idea, sounds perfect for a bit of filming, thanks for the heads up.
Should you be so inclined perhaps you could spare a little cheer for 617, he's likely to be struggling a bit.
-
Tauranga this weekend you say ?
Will you be watching the madness round the mount in the morning ?
-
This is probably a little too self indulgent so please do excuse my ongoing therapy.
I’m a shitty friend and a lousy lover but there is a bit of me that gets cut quite deeply by the unfairness of life. I suspect there are a couple of Broken Flowers moments here if I ever find the time, place and courage.
Love
Emboldened after my travels across America I returned to Britain and set about life with élan. At one stage I had three jobs and an array of pursuits to enjoy. Set in to a renaissance for me, was a life changing affair with a student on exchange from RMIT. Time then for me (we ?) to burn bright, lighting the way to a richer life forthcomming. For my relative youth and extraordinary naïveté this was a high affair. Sometimes sordid and slutty, her fingers in my mouth, my hand up her skirt, stacking bottles in a bar full of people. At other times risky, in an old historic Abbey during daylight hours, finally not caring who walked past. Warmed and trusting with a well placed cupped hand to wake me. Occasions for us to remember no doubt, but not what I recall most often. What has stayed with me most are the moments more cerebral. A journey into architectural space at Blenheim Palace, a long expedition to the Haywood gallery to explore more space and Eisenstein, she was an architect you see. Discussing block work, friezes and mock up’s, over time I found in myself an artist and sculptor, along with images I will draw on for the rest of my life.
We burned out, there was a limit to the number of classes she could skip and I could no longer be allowed to fall asleep on the toilet at work again. My response to this was poor to say the least. My obsession was greedy and mindless. In a modern time you would probably call it stalking, in those days it was just plain unpleasant. We have not spoken since those car crash weeks, I presume she left the country possibly a little disturbed. I warm myself with the thought that she is somewhere on a yacht, having a really good time. For me however there is the uncomfortable recognition of how poorly I behaved and the sadness of knowing that I have never said sorry, though I would truly mean it now. Moreover I haven’t had the opportunity to reveal all the good that grew out of those heady days, which to me seems so unfair. I can think of no way to convey this to her without bringing with it the upset that I must have caused.
Later
Sometime later I entered into a near cliché platonic relationship with another bold soul. Not as clever as Pretty in Pink but lived with an intensity that convinced many that we could not possibly have done all that and “just” have been friends. Cycle touring along the English Riviera, sharing a tent, we didn’t. She, held gently in my arms drunkenly feeding a kebab to my white dress shirt, we still didn’t. Sat on bollards marking a crossing space in the middle of the road, we laughed at each other and laughed at the sky, then went to work. Curled up in the Sun by a riverbank asleep, asleep, asleep. A trip to Surrey and a mother to see, no hints there either. A holiday in Spain I nearly kissed her but didn’t. Many massages later we still didn't.
In between times we both shared in others but always came back. Then I went to University to change my life again. I never called, I never wrote, I am awful like that. When I don’t see people regularly they live in my head. I speak to them often in my mind, but rarely communicate beyond the fog of my day to day preoccupation. In the first year I came back, we caught up, she made me cheesecake, bought me presents and showed me her love. But I, in my brutal self absorbed way, never saw what was before me. Wood from the trees ? I looked past a whole forest of her. We caught up twice after that. She travelled two days to catch up with me in Bath, I visited a fragile and diminished her in London, we haven’t spoken since. It seems stupid to suggest that I really wasn’t ready, I just didn’t know, didn’t get it. In between times after some fifteen years I got it. Twenty years later, she tracked me to New Zealand and invited me to her wedding. Deeply pleased or even bloody happy seems weak against the pleasure it gave me to think of her finding a life-long love. She now has children too. I couldn’t go to the wedding and wrote nothing, didn’t won again as she and those words are trapped in my head. Didn’t, didn’t didn’t into sadness.
…and Regret
-
81st turns head to one side, frowns and thinks.
"Olives hmmm they'd have to be pitted in order to fire Paul Holmes across the room."
Apologies - it has already been a very strange day.
-
@Lucy
Tolley has declared that opposition to the new regime is based on ideology rather than evidence.
An interesting point to make given that the act was passed under urgency
-
Also we need to move away from the confused notion that sports in any way deliver significant amounts of exercise to people, especially children.
Dyan: I'm curious as to why you make this point so strongly.
I do disagree with you, but not from the perspective of Sport is good for all (panacea). Rather that Sport as a means to exercise has been hijacked and presented to kids in the wrong context.
-
Peter -
These two threads here and here contain some significant and informed debate on the topic you have raised. In particular it is worth reading entries from Don Christie, Islander, Simon Grigg and Mark Harris (apologies to other great contributors). Some of the early pages are very good indeed. I would avoid the majority of posts from the imfamous Robbery and my good self.