Rogeting the Mother-in-Law

Right now it is raining, a state of play extant through the night. That is good because here in the north the region generally and farmers specifically need to recover from a prolonged drought. At least I heard it described in the media as a prolonged drought. I would have thought that any drought, by the nature of droughts, is prolonged and to call one as such is a tautology. Or am I wrong? I wanted to find out. So, as is my wont (I am a sad case), I looked up prolonged in the dictionary. Right next to an advertisement telling me that I too could lose 20 kgs in 4 weeks my on-line dictionary defines prolonged as relatively long in duration and protracted. Fair enough, except relative to what? So I am right and to my mind prolonged drought is a tautology. It is also in terms of the verb, prolong, suggestive of someone committing an intent—which in the case of a drought is patently wrong. Delving further into the vexatious word I found in the accompanying on-line thesaurus several alternative words and phrases that mean much the same thing as prolonged. Among the phrases are “tediously protracted” (again fair enough) and then this: “A lengthy visit from a mother-in-law.” What? Mother-in-law jokes? Has the good Roget developed a sense of humour? Surely not. I could delve into this further but I fear I have prolonged this Fryday long enough. Have a good weekend.

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NZRU apologises to Maori players
14/05/2010 6:08:02

Maori players receive apology from NZRU and SARU for being excluded from tours to South Africa during the apartheid era...


The knock on the door was not unexpected…
ME: Hello Whetu.
HE: Kia ora bro.
HE: Youse fellas enjoying Helensville?
ME: Very much so. Nice town.
HE: Wes fellas own some of it, you know.
ME: Wes…we know. Is that it? Is this a shakedown on the house?
HE: Hey bro…you think I would do that to you. You like a cuzzie to me. You whanau. We known each other since we were tamariki.
ME: What is it then?
HE: I want an apology.
ME: An apology?
HE: Yep.
ME: What for?
HE: For stopping me getting in the 1962 Under 12 Canterbury Rugby League team.
ME: I did?
HE: Youse did.
ME: How did I do that?
HE: Your dad was the selector and he didn’t pick me.
ME: And that is my fault how?
HE: The sims of the father.
ME: Sins.
HE: What?
ME: Sins of the father.
HE: Whatever. Anyway, I want an apology.
ME: I apologise.
HE: You do?
ME: I do. That it?
HE: Ah…nope.
ME: What then?
HE: I want some food as well.
ME: What kind of food?
HE: You.
ME: Me? You want to eat me?
HE: It’s a joke bro.
ME: A joke?
HE: Jeeze, you white fellas can’t take a joke, can you?


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A Game of Three Halves

Tonight New Zealand plays Australia in the ANZAC Day rugby league test. Most Kiwis hope for the best and expect the worst. The New Zealand team appears to be too young, too inexperienced and too light to compete with a star-studded Aussie side hunting for State of Origin places. But it should be a good game and I shall be watching. Pity it’s not actually on ANZAC Day though. It used to be and that showed a great deal of sensitivity by Australasian rugby league as well being a good marketing ploy of course—neither of which could be comprehended by the omnipresent but moribund rugby code. But here is a thought: why not play all three major codes—rugby league, rugby and cricket—on the same day, ANZAC Day? You could play a league test in Sydney at 2.00, rugby in Melbourne at 4.00 and a 20/20 cricket match in Brisbane at 7.00. Indeed, with all the facilities Australian have you could play all three games in the same city with the same set of spectators travelling to each venue and the Australian television networks competing for rights.
Of course we would probably still lose all three matches to the Aussies. And I now come to my point--to my way of thinking it is not the games, nor even the losing—it is the captains’ post match speeches that most differentiates the codes. Based on speeches of old here’s how I see them going:
Benjie Marshall (Rugby League)
Well, mate the boys are pretty battered and bruised. I thought we were right in it for the first half mate, but you can’t afford to give the Aussies any space out wide and if you do mate you can expect Lockyer and the boys to take it to yer. League’s a game of possession mate and we just didn’t get up for it today mate.
Richie McCaw (Rugby)
Fairly shattered, to be honest. I thought if we could control it there in the tight we would be in there with a chance. But all credit to the Australians they dug deep and at the end of the day were a better side on the day.
Daniel Vettori (Cricket)
Disappointed to be honest. Our top order didn’t do enough and that put pressure on our lower order. We’ll put that game behind us. Regroup and look to next year. No, I don’t see any selection changes—I’ll probably still trot out the same clichés I do every speech.

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I Tuku I Take it

Tuku Morgan is looking happy these days, isn’t he? Gone are the ball-dancing boxer-undie look of his days with Aotearoa Television Network, which somewhat belied his earlier incarnation as one of the Tight Five.
Today, he is looking positively beaming. He may have lost his reputed $18,000 a month with the network (and the network itself) but Tuku’s creed and greed to live by—there’s always more where that came from—certainly holds true.
Mr Morgan has screwed yet another deal out of the government. Tainui’s 1992 Man of the Year certainly does it well, and repeatedly. The Waikato Deed of Ownership Settlement is only the most recent of a long list of Tainui “settlements”: though you won’t find that on the Tainui website nor interestingly on Parliament’s own settlement process page which hasn’t been updated since 2006. So Tuku “Take It” Morgan is doing a good job for his people; you will forgive me however if I state that he does nothing for me. The home page of the Tainui site quotes this ancient Maori saying “Maaku anoo e hanga tooku nei whare (I shall fashion my own house)”. These days Tuku might well add, “…with Government money.”

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It's all in the water

I am intrigued by a story coming out of Gisborne. One has to be—by ANY story coming out of Gisborne.
Anyway, it seems police caught and charged a man called Richard Carlson for possession of cannabis while he was fleeing the coast during a tsunami warning. Carlson was found with nearly eight kilograms of the drug in his car. The cannabis was—the police admitted—of poor quality (did they smoke it?), there was no evidence of Carlson selling the stuff, he had no criminal record and he and his wife were in fact pillars of the community. But he done wrong and he got caught. Richard Carlson, 57, was sentenced to 12 months home detention for his crime.
Fair enough.
But what intrigued me about this story was not that, it was this: Carlson was stopped and caught by police because they spotted a broken tail light on his car and pulled him over.
Let’s pause for reflection…
· There is a tsunami warning
· People acting on instructions are moving from the coast
· Police are stopping people for broken taillights?
In sentencing Carlson, Judge Tony Adeane said, "These facts, with respect, could only happen on the East Coast.”
They (the facts) lay "between irony and farce", said the judge.
He is right.

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Law & Disorder

It’s a fine line between law and disorder. There are cops who could be criminals and criminals who could be cops. Certainly there are those who are both. But we hear from several sources that New Zealand has one of the least corruptible police forces in the world. I can accept that. I have met many cops over the last few years, from Commissioner Howard Broad to my local community constable and all I have found to be very dedicated and, to the best of my knowledge, honest. And they are efficient, as I found from their quick recovery of our stolen goods a few weeks back. Incidentally, the crime resolution rate in Rodney where I live is just over 50%, which I find acceptable. So, I think we have a good police force here in New Zealand; the best that money can’t buy. But there is one person, no longer serving but a former constable in west Rodney, of whom I want to make special mention. I first met Anna Crane in a public meeting in which she exhibited the slightly sour demeanour that “police representatives” always seem to adopt at such meetings. I don’t know why they are like that. I don’t expect to be in the presence of the Laughing Policeman, but joviality is surely not beyond attainment. Anyway, that was Anna then and I am talking about Anna now. Anna now works for the local council where she continues to serve the public but adds to her role de facto liaison between council and police. She is also my go-to person when, as often happens, I have to get a message or request through to police without going through more formal channels. Each time I have dealt with Anna I have found her cooperative, informative and friendly. I have also found that she remains in touch with the community and despite what she may have seen as a serving officer demonstrably retains a belief in the inherent good of that community. Anna is also a mother and I assume a wife. She has a family, a life and most important: these days, a smile. No doubt some will regale Fryday with stories of bad cops and that is fair enough. But here on this day and in my own little way I want to acknowledge a good cop, as she was and a bloody nice person as she is.

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You have to Hannah it to him

A friend of mine once remarked that there are no challenges in life, only opportunities. He is of course a sanctimonious shit. There are challenges in life. There are also problems, issues, contradictions and resilient aggrievements. They collectively add colour and weight to our lives, and in that context they are not opportunities they are enhancements.
Such it is with “bishop” Brian Tamaki.
What would I do without him?
The man is an asset. No one whom I can think of is riper for ridicule.
Unless now it is the editor of New Idea. Dear reader you cannot imagine the joy Fryday experiences at the opportunity to bring the two together in the form of the following article that appeared in the magazine and again on the Xtra website. Upon reading it, I found myself looking at “bishop” Tamaki in a new light and with, I have to say, like Hannah, an adoring gaze.
That was before I vomited.
Read on…

To many, Destiny Church leader Brian Tamaki is a money-hungry religious fanatic, robbing his spiritual faithful of their hard-earned cash under the pretence he's working for God. But to his wife Hannah, he's an angel.
This week the pair celebrates their 30th wedding anniversary – a testament to their unwavering love and united beliefs. They're convinced that by doing God's work they can weather any storm. For three months they've faced criticism about the controversial Destiny Church, but Hannah stands by Brian and the enterprise they created 12 years ago.
'I was going to make Brian successful in whatever he put his hand to do. [Creating Destiny Church] is the call of his life and I'm in partnership with him.'
Hannah, 49, gazes adoringly at Brian, 52, who she sees as a generous, kind man who works hard to provide for his family and keeps their relationship strong.
'He was my babysitter,' she says with a laugh, reaching to hold Brian's hand. 'We've known each other since we were 12 but started going out when we were 15.'
First dates were spent driving Brian's Zephyr Mark II through Tokoroa and going to the flicks. Hannah knew she'd always be by Brian's side. She was determined her adult life would be the polar opposite of her childhood.
Broken home
Hannah was raised by her father Basil, a rare situation during the 1960s. Her mother abandoned the family during Hannah's early school years.
'I saw my dad cut up with the way my mum treated him,' says Hannah, who has the title of pastor and manages the church's administration. 'When I made my promise to Brian, "Until death do we part," I meant it. I'm a person of my word – we both are.
'There are times where I'd storm off and be disappointed in Brian, but the reality is, when I examine my heart, I love him. He's my partner for life until we get to heaven.'
Their children, Jasmine, 31, Samuel, 27 and Jamie, 28 – all of whom are involved in the church – stroll into the couple's lavish home at Maraetai, East Auckland, giving Brian and Hannah a hug. As their 10 children run to snatch a cuddle from their grandparents, Hannah looks at Brian, her heart swells and she thanks the Lord.
But their relationship didn't start in the church.
'We had a cream wedding,' Hannah admits. 'We had our first child when we weren't Christians and lived together for a year and a half before we got married.'
At age 18, Hannah fell pregnant with Jasmine. Although Brian missed the birth – he fell asleep at the wheel after milking at his aunt and uncle's dairy farm and crashed his car into a power pole – he supported Hannah and three years later, after converting to Christianity, they married.
'Our conversion was very defining, especially for me,' Brian says. 'Up until that point I would have been a normal Kiwi. I was involved in rugby, pig hunting, I was into everything, being 20 and at the prime of life.'
Hannah and Brian were both raised as Methodists, but Brian's mother Margaret had a strong influence on his religious convictions. She dealt with the stigma of leaving her wealthy family to marry a Maori, who in turn wasn't interested in being a father to their three sons. Every Sunday she would walk her boys three kilometres to church.
'She looked down at these three half-breed brats who were misbehaving a lot,' Brian says. 'Her dedication would have a big mark on my ministry, particularly in the areas of keeping promises, doing the hard yards and resilience. All that started from my mum. She was very strong.'
In the '70s Margaret became a born-again Christian and soon his father converted. After Jasmine was born, Hannah was eager to re-explore her religious roots.
'We realised our lives came from dysfunction,' Hannah says. 'We came together because we love each other. Then God came into our life and sealed our love all the more. He gave us an understanding that we could make a difference.'
Brian adds, 'We weren't in abusive families but we saw it all around us – at the rugby clubs, certain sides of the family with gang affiliations, guys I worked with. When I saw the results of that on some of my cousins from my generation on both sides of my family, there were things that were never dealt with. The succeeding generation had to deal with what was left on the table.
'We were determined to change and make a better future for our kids and our grandchildren. And that came from the Bible. God says from generation to generation the Lord blesses you and that your children will do better.'
But Brian and Hannah have been accused of misinterpreting the Gospel by former parishioners, who say the couple are running
a 'money-making cult' under the guise of God's word. Earlier this month 20 members of the Destiny Church's Brisbane congregation walked out.
They disagreed with the church covenant where members were encouraged to buy a $300 signet ring, stop buying coffee and give up Sky TV so they could develop Destiny School.
Hannah might be forgiven for feeling upset by these claims, but instead she says they've made them more convinced than ever they are on the right track.
'I'm not going to be ashamed of working hard and getting somewhere,' she says defiantly. 'Millions of dollars haven't gone missing from the church.'
Money matters
Brian and Hannah say their assets have come from 'hard work, clean living' and building up a 'nest egg' established before the church. Brian says his $500,000 boat has been upgraded over the years after he bought his first vessel 15 years ago. Their $1.5 million home, with expansive sea views and a pool, is a result of buying their first house in their early 20s following an inheritance from Hannah's father.
They deny their annual joint salary is $1.1 million, and Brian says he's never received $12,000 for a speaker fee. They won't say what they do earn, except to confirm their total annual income is 'under $500,000', including all offerings and koha.
'It's not anyone's business,' Brian says, scoffing at reports that he receives personal tithes from his pastors or expects gifts. However, he explains that koha or presents are 'not uncommon amongst Maori and Pacific people [the cultural background of many of his worshipers]'.
'Destiny has a wonderful culture of giving amongst members and, on occasions, towards me,' Brian says.
They say their salary is from running Destiny's 10 churches and Destiny School, providing oversight for pastoral care and working on sermons for TV broadcasts and church services.
'We're really fortunate if we spend four nights in our own bed a week,' Hannah says.
Brian adds, 'It's CEO status, because of the expanse of ministries. A lot of preachers of this size [church] will come in and go and not touch the general core of the people. I'll walk slowly through the crowd after service.'
In the face of such strong adversity, the pair turns to each other for unconditional love and support. They relish their private time with children and friends, who often dine in their home.
And although the church focuses on traditional patriarchal Christian values, the Tamakis' marriage is like any modern-day family. Both work full-time and share chores, including cooking. They live with their granddaughter Eden, who they whangaied [Maori for fostering or adopting] two years ago; Jade, a Christchurch pastor's daughter who attends Destiny School; and their two Pomeranian dogs, Mercedes and Lulu.
Hannah frequently returns home around 7pm. 'I do the housework late in the night and early in the morning, but if Brian gets home from the gym, he'll always put a load of washing on and chuck it in the dryer. But he'll never make the bed,' she adds with a laugh.
Nights are spent studying the Bible or watching TV. Brian enjoys documentaries on the National Geographic and Documentary Channels.
There's one rule when they head to bed. 'When we get to the bedroom door, all business is off. There's no church talk,' Brian says. 'That's how we tune out.'
Hannah adds, 'We'll pray together, read our Bibles, but we don't talk business because we're together 24/7. We're both really passionate about what we do, so it's hard sometimes.'
Long, happy marriages take work, and the Tamakis believe the success of their union is not only because they've stuck to their vows, but also because they work hard to keep the romance alive.
'After the last time I went away Brian lit candles. Then the [grand]children came so that was the end of that,' Hannah says, laughing.
Brian will often surprise her with her favourite red roses and they try to get time alone.
'We make sure our marriage is kept enriched by trying to slip a night away during the week,' Brian reveals.
For their 25th anniversary the couple splashed out on a trip on the luxury cruise ship Queen Mary II but their 30th will be low key. They've planned a getaway to the Coromandel followed by a few days with new Brisbane church pastors, Phil and Patty Kingi.
'We haven't set any goals for this one,' Hannah says.
'Thirty years together is a milestone and to think all your children have grown up, now we have our grandchildren, it's fantastic.'
Judgment Day – The Church
Twelve years ago the couple moved to Auckland, and with 20 members from Lake City Church Rotorua, launched Destiny Church based
on a Pentecostal worship style.
Conservative with a literalist interpretation of Biblical teachings, worshipers focus on traditional family values and believe same-sex marriage is not Biblically sanctioned. Those who drink, smoke, gamble, use pornography or have premarital sex 'would be helped to heal'.
Members are encouraged to tithe 10 per cent of their earnings, and give 'offerings' above that. The church has a strong multicultural following with many Maori and Pacific Islanders. Men swear allegiance to Brian under a 'covenant', which he says seeks to build Destiny's vision.
'The way I preach the word of God has an appeal to people that say, "I can sense where he comes from." If they're coming from a life of crime, drugs, broken homes, gangs – which a lot have – you know why they've come. They see our marriage, my children and our 10 grandchildren all in the same church, that we live our lives well. It's not excessive.'
The church adheres to prosperity theologies and the Tamakis believe God has provided their wealth.
'Why would you want to be part of a church where you think it's going to take you back and you're going to lose? What I see [around me] is a blessing from God,' Brian explains. 'I want people to know we don't have to hide from the world that clean living is going to have these results.'
From the initial 20 who joined in 1998, this number has grown to 6000 here and in Australia. Almost 200 children of parishioners attend Auckland-based Destiny School, which caters for pre-schoolers through to high school. There are 400 on the waiting list. Primary school students pay $55 a week and high-school students pay $120.
'In five years we'll have 1400 church members in the school. That's how fast it's growing,' Brian says.
Growing the school is their passion and they say the institution focuses equally on academia and character building.
'We want our students to be educated the best they can academically but we also have a character curriculum so they learn how to respect people and one another,' Hannah explains. 'They learn about truth, entrepreneurial skills, money and the importance
of a good work ethic.'

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A Town on the Edge

Christchurch is a town that lives in the edge of a precipice. I know this because I am in it and I have observed this. It is a town—not a city—that for all its self-perpetuating superiority and self-aggrandisement lacks confidence. It is like Muhammad Ali, should he float like a butterfly and sting like a butterfly. Christchurch is on the edge. They have their purple patches; but they are terrified of the sodden, brown muddy mess they most easily can fall in to. They find safety in numbers. They have their much vaunted team successes: The Crusaders, Canterbury cricket, The Pulse. But are they yet to find one individual successful sportsperson? No. Safety in numbers. Christchurch, if it cannot hide behind strength of numbers and a team ethos, would rather just…hide. It does so in its gardens. I love its gardens, but one gets the feeling that they are created by aficionados who would rather hide from the real world, particularly Auckland, and not come out from behind the daffodils unless wrenched. One gets the feeling that rather paradoxically they would enjoy being wrenched. Christchurch is like that—a veneer. Like Hamilton. Christchurch presents itself to the world as one thing and a contented complacent world accepts that. I cannot. What I see is a superficial smugness hiding a deep malady of frustration and vexation that for all its protestations of culture, history and class Christchurch is not, after all and in the final reckoning, Auckland.

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A Taste of Perfection

I remember a very funny Hancock’s Half Hour (is there any other kind?) called The Bedsitter in which Tony picks up Charles Dickens’ Tale of Two Cities. Tony reads the first line, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”, and then sets the book aside, explaining, “If he (Dickens) can’t make up his mind then he (Hancock) can’t be bothered.” In this episode and in many others Tony Hancock, in his shows and in life, was on a constant quest to improve himself. In many of the classic episodes of his radio and television shows he did reach perfection but the quest continued and eventually killed him. Most of us see and accept perfection as an unattainable goal. Nevertheless a few still try to achieve it and that trial can consume them. You probably know some. I do. My own quest for perfection is a little more pragmatic but just as pricey: Lagavulin. The 16-year-old Lagavulin is the single most beautiful single malt scotch in the world. RKN, who I think now reads this column will dispute that but he is in the wrong. Lagavulin is what I call a layered scotch—it has layers of sensation that repeatedly bid entrance long after you have consumed and swallowed your first dram. It is this repetition, akin to “Bishop” Tamaki’s requests for money, that makes Lagavuhlin the gang-bang of all scotches. However, it exacts a pretty exacting set of criteria; it should only be drunk late at night while one is alone and musing, it should be drunk from a proper scotch glass and with (at most) a dash of water, and ideally should be followed by sex. And with regard to the last, I should stress that it is only the Lagavulin that should be sampled alone, not the sex. Do all of that and you will have a taste of perfection. I get through a fair few bottles of it myself, and you can read into that what you will. Cheers!

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Bishop to Rort

The latest revelations—and revelations is seemingly the only link Destiny Church has to The Bible—about Bishop Tamaki come as no surprise to Fryday readers.
Fryday has maintained from the outset that Tamaki’s “church” is little more than a rort and the Christian principles Tamaki espouses on television and elsewhere are impurely cosmetic.
But Fryday believes the end is nigh for Tamaki and his henchman Richard Lewis. The weight of media and public opinion is having an effect: Pastors are starting to mutiny, church members are leaving and revenue is declining.
Amidst his latest pontifications, Tamaki says that God has a plan to restore the lost wealth to the church. Apparently God’s plan comprises installing eftpos machines in the church.
We will never see the back of Bishop Tamaki (and believe me the back of his hair cut looks as bad as the front) but Fryday believes we will see a lessening of his power, his influence…and his victims.
Thank God.

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Saint Luke

This week we were burgled. A laptop and an iPod were stolen. But a lot more would have gone had it not been for the advent and the intervention of our dog Luke. Luke who is a light sleeper, unlike the rest of the family, and is something of a sentinel heard something. Enough, apparently, to waken both himself and his protective senses. In Luke’s world something was wrong and that was annoying. Luke, who is otherwise quite a placid dog, doesn’t like to get annoyed and does like to take it out on someone when his is. In this case, fortunately for us, that meant burglars. Big brave burglars, who fled at the sound of a dog clearly on the warpath and with an appetite for a Burglar King. What they didn’t know in the darkness was that this loud and aggressive dog is still a puppy and barely taller than their shins, though, it has to be said, is clearly capable of extracting said shins. So, we were saved further loss by a very small dog with a big heart and a propensity for protection. The burglars have been caught by the police (thank you) and our goods recovered. However, we are told that there is no guarantee we won’t be burgled again. So, here’s the message and the warning for anybody thinking of burgling our place: next time, Luke will be bigger but just as annoyed.

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