I’m a baby-boomer – and proud of it. So why is our generation, the first crop of boomers (born 1946), being attacked for simply reaching our age. After all we protested against Nuclear testing at Mururoa – and eventually won.
Category archive: Nostalgia
Recent isolation, and advancing years has led me to reflect on “THE MEANING OF LIFE?” and “WHAT HAVE I LEARNED ABOUT LIVING”?
As the famous song says,”What’s it all about Alfie”?
(In the interests of cordial marital relations it may not be a good idea to show your wife or partner this list!!!!)
Excerpts from Kiwiosities, a book by Gordon Ell on the traditions and folklore of New Zealand.
The most traumatic civil event of 20th-century New Zealand. After the prosperous 1920s, New Zealand was plunged into a well of unemployment and social misery by the international breakdown that followed the Wall Street Crash of 1929. An economy dependent on primary produce sold overseas was particularly vulnerable.
Before television, families gathered each night around the essential piece of lounge furniture – a stylish floor level radio console (perhaps branded Atwater Kent or Gulbransen) – or faced the ornate mantle model (Philco), waiting with expectation for the crackling radio valves to warm up.
At first they nodded and smiled as usual on our daily walks. Nothing unusual there, it’s our neighbourhood.
But then the pandemic arrived and didn’t leave. For a few days we were confused and offered the same greetings, though we all knew nothing would ever be the same.
It was John Cleese who made the above comment famous in regard to German guests in the 1960s television show, Faulty Towers. The theme; attempting to keep silent about guests whose behaviour or history you think deplorable is universal, which is what made the show so brilliant.
Outside it’s sunny, a hot, muggy Auckland day. A plump Tui swings on the untidy flax bush by the bedroom’s open window; slothful clouds drift past in a china-blue sky. But inside the bedroom it’s cold, chilly enough to raise goose-pimples. Despite the golden light outside, the room is shadowy, its corners dim and blurry.
Last November I went to a memorial service for those whose relations or friends had died during the previous 12 months. It was organised by the funeral directors with whom my mother had arranged her prepaid funeral and who had efficiently, calmly and professionally helped us organise her obsequies in early December, 2018.