They say you should never go back or try to recapture the wonder of places and experiences of your youth. But, while not replicating the original, sometimes the passage of time can make the outcome rewarding and interesting.
Remember the excitement of being a teenager and jiving to Elvis’ music? (So hip that word back then, so embarrassing now).
Anyway, it’s all bad news on the Elvis front folks. Turns out The King wasn’t all he was cracked up to be on the record charts – at least that’s what Billboard magazine is saying to the ire of Elvis’ followers world-wide.
Much has changed between my occasional visits to Christchurch in the last four and a half years.
On my first post-earthquakes visit I was awed by wrecked buildings, broken roads, tell-tale see pages that told of cracked water-pipes, portable toilets in the streets, tangles of steel reinforcing on what looked like bomb-sites, barricades, soldiers, and silence in a city echoing sorrow.
I should begin by saying I am but a beginner beekeeper, so these are just my observations. I don’t keep them for honey, but for pollination, though my kids would tell me the joy of sticking their heads under a giant honey tap in harvest season is a hard reason to beat.
‘Shiner’ Ned Slattery was more than 50 years ‘on the road’ avoiding work. John A. Lee recorded the folklore in two books about the champion of ‘anti-sweat’. When Lee was a runaway from a boys’ home, he met The Shiner, then an old man, and ever after collected tales about him.
Tens of thousands of Kiwis out in the rain over the weekend to protest against the TPP which many thought had been killed off in the last, failed round of talks. But no. In the collective race from commonsense and responsibility to their peoples and institutions, governments are expecting the deal to be finalised later this month. Meanwhile some Ministers have already dismissed the protests.
Funny… it just didn’t seem like Greece. We’d been dazzled by the blue and white on Santorini, subdued by the mainland Greek’s grey and shades of olive and now Corfu looked like Greece’s bohemian cousin, in her green, orange and pink. But then maybe it was Corfu Town’s shabbiness, its charm and its palette of ochre that gave it the taste of Italy.