Three score and 8/10ths by Trevor Plumbly

78 this month; shit that’s old! Maybe it’s time to quit the intellectual musings and accept that the old ‘get-up-and-go’ has finally gone. I could do the escape route, and scoff a couple of ‘goodbye pills’. I would, of course, croak, but at least senility wouldn’t be an ongoing worry. There is a bill in progress to make that legal, but to pass into law it requires a conscience vote, which in turn requires being counted and some MPs have a problem with that. Others dribble on, to the extent that makes… Read More

Three score and ??? by Trevor Plumbly

I’m staring down the barrel of 78; old age has arrived and I’ve been collecting wisdom to compensate. There’s lots of theories around; for example, someone said (I don’t know who), “The thing about old age is that you can see the good in people more easily.” My research suggests that that’s a load of bollocks! That sort of sanctimonious crap belongs in Christmas cracker mottoes, or to old fogies wanting to clock up a few brownie points before the bloke with the scythe visits. It’s a bloody mysterious caper this age… Read More

Huff and puff by Trevor Plumbly

Grumpy old git part 2 It’s cold and wet in Auckland and I’ve got all reflective about a couple of law changes in the offing. Odd things in life seem to matter at my age; even so, at the risk of contradiction from my fellow bloggers, I regard myself as a pretty normal sort of bloke. It wasn’t always thus, but age tends to water things down a bit. In my formative years you were either the sort of boy your girlfriend invited home to meet mother, or useful as a cudgel… Read More

Ya gotta laugh by Trevor Plumbly

A funny thing used to happen Listening to an interview with John Cleese the other day made me wonder whether the current plague of PC is strangling humour. Comedy has always carried an element of cruelty: from the Buster Keaton custard pie sketch to the murder of sensitivities from Billy Connolly, somebody has to ‘cop it’ to amuse those who weren’t on the receiving end. Listening to Cleese, I realised that nothing was spared: all manner of sacred cows, including his late mother and ex-wives were woven into a barrage of hilarious… Read More

I don’t blame me! By Trevor Plumbly

Remember this 1970s pop lyric? Dad’s gone down the dog track, Muvver’s playing bingo, Granny’s boozing in the parlour, You oughta see the gin go. No-one seems to notice me, isn’t it a sin, What a crazy world we’re living in. My circumstances were such that I didn’t suffer from any of that sort of family indifference as a child. Okay, the lyrics are sort of funny, but for a hell of a lot of kids it was a reality. Back then kids were left to their own devices to an extent… Read More