Posts by Nat Curnow
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Covert Covid.
From what ever perspective you view the world, this is undoubtably an unusual and unpredictable coarse of events, and my story within this is no different.
Like with all adventures, it was proceeded by routine planning and a degree of expectation, and in my case, tethered excitement as I waded consciously and cautiously towards a new love in Melbourne . My departure date on 28th of march was looming as was the impending crisis and our daily communication took on sense of urgency with mutterings of potential travel bans , self isolation and the possibility that this miraculous , magnetic trajectory could be derailed indefinatly. On the 16th, it was announced that there was the possibility that travel bans for non citizens could be imposed, frantic calls to the Australian passport office, air NZ and the Australian embassy turned up little information, so I decided that decisive action was required and I brought my flight forward to the 20th,which would extend my stay beyond the 14 day isolation requirement, taking a 6.35pm flight to Melbourne which would have me landing at 8.50pm Australian time. I was still unsure if I would be aloud entry, or if I would be aloud back home, but was feeling quite determined. Then, on the 19th, the announcement was made that all non Australian residence will be banned from entering Australia at 9pm on The 20th, 10 minutes after my plane was due to land, more frantic calls to Air NZ and no clear answers, there was more than one “greater good” in play here. After a poor sleep peppered with the usual dreams of missing the flight , I was packed and ready to go, “ Dam the torpedoes “!! Checking updates as I headed to the airport I felt the tingle of fragility and excitement of stepping into the unknown mixed with the possibility That I could just as surly be getting despondently back into my own bed that night. “Attention passengers on Air NZ flight 729, a staff member has been called off sick and we are waiting for a replacement so the flight will be delayed until a replacement arrives “ You have got to be kidding me !! The very friendly air NZ staff member doesn’t know if our late arrival will effect our ability to enter the country and the flight boards at 7.00pm, as I step onto the plane and take my seat I breath a tentative sigh of relief, so far so good, surly they wouldn’t fly if there was chance we could be refused entry, and I had noticed, that I was not the only NZ passport holder looking a little nervous. I have always enjoyed flying, proceeding and surviving ( with any luck) this unlikely trickery, trapped in the belly of this roaring beast speeding us off to a place of new experiences or the comfort of home and I felt, in some way that I was heading for both, if fait would allow it.
A sympathetic wind and I suspect, a tap on the gas, we landed at 9.02 pm, declarations, filled and signed, passports checked and an unnervingly long wait for the bags to roll down the turnstile and I was there, I had slid under the door as it slammed shut in a cloud of dust, There was an image in my head of Indiana Jones and the very real image of the reason and purpose of my determined intent. I had conspired with life, was I prepared? probably. -
Also, the two DJ's playing support sets for Leftfield are two top NZ women DJ's, Mel Heylady and Tina Mairi , so get there early next Saturday !!
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I had a rush of blood to the head 6 months ago and signed up to a dating site after being single for 4 years. I have been on one date in that time with a nice woman who, after said date messaged me to say that I had only dated her because I had felt sorry for her, needless to say we haven’t been in touch since. I have sent out a number of messages to women ( in my age group) on the site, always trying to sound and being genuinely interested in ‘them’ but the responses have ranged from “haha, not me mate” , “I suppose I could give you a trial” to “you sound sweet, good luck”. Needless to say, I haven’t renewed my subscription.
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Very inspirational Amberleigh,( as I sit down to a bowl of mystery leftovers from the freezer) thank you. I am accompanying my daughter through a difficult and painful recovery from an eating disorder and any good story, one like your journey back to the pleasure of food gives hope and encouragement. I’ll also be looking forward to reading more of your culinary adventures. :-)
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Instead of making people more informed, is mass access to the internet actually making people more ignorant and less informed?
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Chloe Swarbrick is a shining star. Watch this space.
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Our Woodwork teacher at Northcote intermediate brought his own T.V. from home into school and we watched the 74 fight in the woodwork room, it was a big thing. It was partly Ali and partly that I was sick of getting picked on that led me into boxing as a youth. I befitted from the confidence it gave me, the fitness and it got me out of a few scrapes but I didn't much like hitting people so was not much of a contender for the ring.
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Have a sensational time in old new York Russell, look forward to hearing all about it.
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Lately this country feels like it did in the 1970s.
My memories of many gigs in the 70's, mostly punk and idie shows, were that generally women and girls were looked after, protected often some what over zealously by boyfriends and/or male friends, most of the tough guys had a code of respect towards women at gigs. I can remember other men stepping in when a man was being abusive to his girlfriend at the Windsor Castle. Although I am saddened by the fact that the young women with these arseholes didn't intervene, it is entirely a male problem and it is our responsibility as older men to step up and educated these stupid, arrogant young men when ever we see this behavior . It is simply not acceptable anywhere, anytime. I feel deeply ashamed and sorry for Jean and the other women exposed to the worse side of masculinity , because real men just don't do that shit. -
Thanks Russell,this a great idea. Not wadding in, can at times be an excruciating exercise in restraint, and there are times when my over exuberance has left me foundering in a tidal rip thats hurtling towards the rocks.I either have the good sense to bow out or I make a fool of myself ( less of the fool theses days, I can be a slow learner)
Home; I too am a habitual nester, which made me a lousy squatter in London in the early 90's ( three squats in two years).
When I move, I move reluctantly. I grump and sulk, the prospect abstract and severe. I hover around and around the new place suspiciously looking for a place to land, but when I do, I become attached.
When I first moved to Mangawhai ten years ago it was a big lurch, away from the city and all its boisterous frivolity, colour and diversity, from friends and family and connection. I still worked in Auckland at the time so I was able to hold on to connections, but it was different ,disconnected. Within five years here we had built a Straw bail house and my marriage had failed. But five years on from that I love it and find it hard to imagine living anywhere else. Its quiet but for the birds and the occasional rattling of a passing quad bike, and I guess its not so surprising how you can get used to star filled skies and abundant silence. The fruit trees are now producing obediently, The gardens are establishing , the house is warm in winter and cool in summer, its close enough to the beaches to be easy and far enough away to feel like an escape from the throngs of summer visitors. I can indulge in nude gardening ( I do wear a hat) and play music as load and as often as I please. I have cultivated good friendships and feel a part of a diverse and eclectic community . I visit the market on Saturday mornings for coffee and social intercourse and am involved with local music and theatre. And, its only an hour and half to Auckland.
Home is like a memento to ourselves, to remind us who we are, where we have been, where we are now and where we are going. It is, where the heart lyes, and where I have lain my hat…. for now.