..bodies from work place accidents, car accidents etc. putting viewers off their late night snacks and giving their children nightmares for weeks.
Drink-driving is one issue that could do with some positivity in its treatment. While I tend to agree that some cultural revision of young people’s attitude to drinking in this country is overdue, there’s a noticeable reticence in middle-aged people of even moderate drinking habits to go out to have fun anymore, especially with society seemingly moving towards zero tolerance of drink-driving.
I would like to see a positive television campaign to recognise the place of designated drivers in the equation, similar to an ad in New Zealand I saw a few years ago. (Oddly I can’t find any reference to it now. I wonder why that is?)*
Anyway, picture a car full of happy drunks being pulled over for a breathalyser test and the driver, being the designated driver of course, is not only able to converse with the police politely and coherently, (despite the banter from his boisterous passengers), but naturally registers zero on the breathalyser and is waved on cheerfully by the police.
This seems so sensible to me, but if the message is deemed to be irrelevant, the useful tradition of the designated driver definitely needs to be fostered more in Australia.
On another subject, I’m quite amazed that the demise of Australia Post has been accepted so sanguinely by the Australian public. It’s possible that its importance to society has diminished in such meteoric fashion that the bulk of the population could care less whether it even existed, but the tacit acceptance of, first, the exorbitant salary earned by Ahmed Fahour, the new Australia Post head, and then his pathetic ‘solution’ to the existential problems faced by his plaything organisation i.e. raising the price of postage and lowering the standards of service by roughly equal amounts, demands some sort of scrutiny. Surely?
Apart from anything else, the cynicism and irritation from the public at ‘Post Shops’ must be corroding morale in the work place and must ultimately contribute to Australia Post’s inevitable disappearance, especially when faced with a host of delivery competitors. Which I suppose raises the possibility this is a deliberate government ploy.
I’ve had my moments with the Post Office (there, I’ve said it now) but I shall be sad to see it go. These days I’m quite often struck that people who frequent Post Offices (and again) are generally older (like me) and the only service that younger folk seem to be interested in is getting or renewing their passports and I imagine that can be easily ceded out to some other government department. But it can never be as convenient as the local Post Office (last time).

Dave Graney brought up my first band the Chants during the interview on his Banana Lounge Broadcasting show on Triple R today when trying to sort out a suitable track to play. (Dave is the perfect interviewer as far as I’m concerned, being interested enough to familiarise himself with my various bands over the years, including The Chants). He actually ended up playing Neighbour, Neighbour, a cover of a Graham Bond Organization track from a bootleg Chants’ CD I’d not seen before.
While Maria and I were in New Zealand in April we made a point of visiting the remaining members of The Chants, or Chants R&B as the band later became known. This was prompted by the recent death of guitarist Matt Croke (aka Max Kelly) and the consequent realisation that we’re all getting to the pointy end of our lives.
Amazingly enough I had another offer from Chants’ aficionado John Baker for a gig in Auckland in October to pass on to Martin and Trevor – Jim having made it clear some time ago that he wasn’t interested in another Chants’ reformation. I couldn’t see it really. There’s never been any money in it and to try and recreate the Chants’ youthful raw energy, even briefly, is pretty much beyond us now.
And so it turned out. Martin’s still involved in the Napier music scene and might’ve given it a go, but Trevor’s fully involved in farming just outside Christchurch and doesn’t need to damage his ears any further.
Which leaves me. Speaking of ears, I’ve got well-known problems there which even threaten my enjoyment of the far more sedate Spectrum. While there’s the odd nod to the Chants in Spectrum’s repertoire, like I’m Your Witchdoctor, that’s as close as I’d like to get in the meantime. Sadly I can’t get more positive than that.

* Dr Wazz found it though - check it out on YouTube