Showing posts with label Patrick Cameron. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Patrick Cameron. Show all posts

Monday, February 8, 2021

Remember when you were a little kid, what were the qualifications? If someone's in front of my house NOW, That's my friend (Jerry Seinfeld)

Patrick, Randy, Jacky and Wozza hit Taupo
Wie geht's?

Jerry Seinfeld's bit about your real friends came to mind during the weekend as Jacky and I spent quality time with some old friends at Maple Grove and then Taupo (where that selfie was taken).

When you're in your thirties it's very hard to make a new friend. Whatever the group is that you've got now that's who you're going with. you're not interviewing, you're not looking at any new people, you're not interested in seeing any applications. They don't know the places. They don't know the food. They don't know the activities. If I meet a guy in a club or the gym or someplace I'm sure you're a very nice person you seem to have a lot of potential, but we're just not hiring right now.
To paraphrase writer Alex Williams - up to your 50s and 60s, plenty of new people enter your life, through work, your wife's friends, your children's friends/partners and their families and, of course, Facebook. But actual close friends — the kind you make at school, university and in your twenties, the kind you call in a crisis — those are in shorter supply. 

That's very true. Patrick and Randy - thanks for a great spontaneous weekend!

Love and peace - Wozza

Monday, December 2, 2019

46 steps


Wie geht's?

Recently, I somehow clicked onto a section of the blog and found a few really old drafts of posts that I had never finished!

Here's the first one: a poem of all things. Wohsers!!

Written about leaving Patrick Cameron and Randy Buckley's house in north London a few years ago. Enjoy.

The Shire

And then we finally left,

taking the 46 downward steps,
and leaving Ferntower north,
the house and it's occupants,in peace.

The shire settled back down,to its routines and obligations.
Mr Patel sold one less Guardian a day,
the Paradise fish bar sighed,
The Acoustic, the two hour dry cleaner, and the Tesco Express:
all waved adieu,
as the number 73 heaved itself towards King's Cross 
and the Piccadilly line
and the journey towards Heathrow.


Love and peace - Wozza

Sunday, May 12, 2019

And my mother's eyes are with me in the chilly winds of autumn (Bette Midler)

DMP, 1976

Wie geht's Jeanette and Patrick?

Mothers' Day has rolled around again in Nu Zild.

Jade's first. LOML's 34th. Dulcie Mary Purdy's 61st.

Although the joy of Asher and Jade's new status has now become a welcome feature of Mothers' Day, there's always a twinge of sadness for me as each one reminds me of what I don't have. 

Not being alone in this is not really a comfort.

Every day starts with me looking at their photo beside my bed and saying hi to both my parents. I miss them both, so much sometimes I ache.

Again - not alone. Again - not a comfort.

Each of us have to negotiate this. Jeanette understands this.

My thoughts were also with our friend Patrick for this one as he recently lost his mother. Before we left London, he gave us a Mothers' Day card to deliver for him.

Sadly, his mother passed away before the day rolled around. But, I still have the card. Unopened. I'll keep it for him. He may want it back some day.

Love and peace - Warana

Tuesday, April 23, 2019

I been in the right place, but it must have been the wrong song (Dr John)


Wie geht's?

This week contained a marriage milestone: our 35th wedding anniversary (coral, apparently) and found us and a few of our original wedding guests, spookily, back where we started from, in the church where Jacqueline Smith said, "I do", on April 21, 1984.

The occasion was a rosary service for Patrick Cameron's much loved mum, Maureen, who had recently passed away after a long productive life.

Coincidentally, that service was conducted at St Joseph's Catholic Church in New Plymouth on April 21, 2019, which explains why we, along with Patrick and his husband Randy, friend Karina and his assorted relatives were congregated there.

Weird feeling for me being there. I could easily recapture the 35 year old scenes with my brother and father and close friends in attendance.  


Not only that, but being an Anglican, means I have no idea what is going on during a catholic service.

Strange, right, how we find ourselves in the right place at the right time but singing the wrong song.

Love and peace - Wozza

P.S. Spookily part2: Jade's in-laws (hello to the Hodge family) were also married on April 21, 1984!! Although not in the same place obviously.

Sunday, September 23, 2018

Good times never seemed so good (Neil Diamond)


Wie geht's?

This post was going to outline my views on GB under the spell of Brexit, or the LOML and my visit to the state rooms at Buckingham Palace.

But our friends, Patrick and Randy, knocked those two aside with a phone call around 2.30pm on Sunday. They were at the Emirates, in a director's box, and had a spare ticket!! Did I want it?? How soon could I get there? 

The 4.00pm kick off meant I had to get my skates on. 

A walk to Caterham station and the resulting replacement bus service to Purley, a train to Victoria, the tube to Highbury Islington and a brisk walk to the Emirates saw me catch the last ten minutes of the first half and all of the second.


Typically these days, the first half of Arsenal games can be tactically astute and steady (okay, boring). Such was the case yesterday, but two quick goals in the second spell had us up man-hugging and joyous!!

At one point, as I was basking in the north London sunshine at Emirates with us up 2 nil, I said to Patrick that this is as good as life gets. And I wasn't kidding!

Love and peace - Gooner Wozza

Thursday, December 14, 2017

On the first day of Christmas my true love sent to me: a partridge in a pear tree.

Apart from the lack of snow...

Christmas means digging out that long box that houses our Christmas tree and the other box of decorations we've accumulated over the years.

For the last two years we haven't used them because we've spent Christmas in London at Patrick and Randy's house.

Last year we had Christmas dinner at Acoustic, the cafe opposite their house in Stoke Newington. Freezing cold outside. Lovely and warm inside Acoustic. A great meal. Just me and my best girl. 

Great times.

So...the Christmas tree and box of accumulated decorations has been stored in various garages we've owned over the last three years (Otane, Waipukurau, Mangaturoto).

But this year we have family flying in from the U.S.A. (Fanfa), Oztraya (Adamski and Ashleigh), and Palmerston North (DLG and William).

Christmas at home meant I went in search of the Christmas tree in the long box and the other box of accumulated decorations. I remembered where they'd been stored - the tool shed.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Over the years, various rodents had visited the box it appeared. Tell tale little blue pellets on the top of the long box. Boy did it stink.

When I opened the long box I immediately saw why it stunk. At some point in the past three years, Ratty had made his or her home in the fake branches - mixing scraps of cardboard with string. 

A very dead flat rat lay underneath the fake branches.

Doh!!
2017 version

For some reason SWMBO wouldn't entertain me cleaning off ratty's home and water blasting the branches. 

So, off to the Warehouse we went. The last one in the store became ours.

We constructed the new Christmas tree and unpacked the accumulated decorations (separate box and not penetrated by ratty).

Looks good huh!!

Its now sitting decorously and calmly in the lounge, waiting for the Purdettes and their significant others to visit.

Roll on Christmas.

Love and peace and ho ho ho - Wozza

Monday, September 19, 2016

I'll always love you, I promise I'll always love you, 'cause I think the whole world of you and you can't change that, no, no (Raydio)

Tonight and forever (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 6, part 3)




When the accident happened on April 20, 1984, the cassette in the car was playing songs from a Nambassa concert.


As our Chevette went through the Devon St., lights, I indicated to turn right into The Devon Lodge, our wedding reception venue for the next day, slowed to a stop and glanced into my rear vision mirror.


Margo Clay and Chris hang out
The next few seconds would play out in my head in slow motion as I watched the car behind me travelling fast, too fast, through the lights in the right side lane. Instinctively, I knew he was going to rear end me - my fear was that he'd push us into the on-coming traffic.

Nothing I could do but warn Jacky in the passenger seat, and brace for impact.

Which came.
Bride of the century

Our heads snapped forward and mine hit the shade vizor in front of me, leaving a few cuts and bruises; Jacky had some whiplash. Luckily we only moved forward a few metres and avoided the cars coming towards us.

In a numb shock, we all waited on the curb for the police to show up to get statements. Someone must have contacted the police - I don't remember.

It may sound silly, but we'd been lucky. Our car was severely damaged though (insurance would fix it eventually by joining a whole back section to the car) and we were due to go on honeymoon in two days time. Ah well, what are you gunna do? 


During April 21, 1984 Jacky was getting ready in Lorna Street while I was having Margo apply makeup to my cuts and getting dressed at the Devon Lodge (while Singing In The Rain played on the TV in Margo and Clay's room).

Soon enough it was time to head to St Joseph's Catholic Church for the wedding of the century! Of which I loved every minute!

When doing our vows, we both faced the congregation of friends and family - that was a nice touch. 
The Purdys and Smiths

Dad and Ross were there, Margo and Clay (my best man), Greg and Wendy, Phyllis, Roger and Deirdre, Patrick, Chris, Michelle and her first husband, Warwick, Mervyn and Catherine...and a whole load of people I didn't know (friends of Brian and Sallie's I guess - he paid for the reception so that was fine with us).

GNP with Alison, Mabelle
As luck would have it, rain and wind meant we needed studio shots rather than the normal ouside ones taken at weddings. This proved a blessing in disguise - the photos are great!! Lots of combinations of the Purdy and Smith axis, as well as Margo, Clay, Chris were possible.


Greg, Wendy, Phyllis at a table with Terry Heaps and the Ryders
The reception was back at the Devon Lodge and I loved that too. The traditional speeches went well - Clay and I spoke. During the night we all danced and had a great time. 


Patrick and his possie, including Lindsay Loveridge

Thanks to Sallie lending us her Honda Prelude, our honeymoon was spent in Wanganui and Wellington, places I'd never been to. The Sharella was relatively new and right opposite the botanic gardens - a great location for walking and exploring Wellington.

During our stay we were abruptly woken at 1.00am with a shrill fire alarm sounding in the room. The flashing words 'Panic Panic Panic' were sent from my brain to nerve endings throughout my entire body. Jacky, bless her, was a picture of calm and poise as she ushered me from the room, down the fire escape to the car park in the drizzly rain. Whatever had happened was dealt with and we returned to our honeymoon.

Days were spent shopping (Unity Books!!), and visiting touristy spots like the gardens and museums and the zoo.

I had a blast!

Love and peace - Wozza

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Set adrift on memory bliss of you (PM Dawn)

You angel, you (You may say I'm a dreamer - Chapter 2, pt 6)



I shared my mother's life for twenty-six years. I'm 58 right now. I've lived longer than she did.

That's nearly 33 years without her. I've felt pain for every one of those 33 years.

There are no days that I don't think of her and miss her terribly. The power within that little frame is a hard thing to do without.

Tragically John Lennon and Paul McCartney lost their mothers when they were very young too. John was about 15, Paul 14. They didn't recover either. That pain and the repression of those feelings helped bond them and lasted throughout John's life. I can identify.


1983 became a huge year. 

I was teaching at New Plymouth Boys' High School in 1983, my first year in my first teaching job. The year had been a good one in many ways. Serendipity had led me to New Plymouth, teaching at a school that was much like MAGS.

I had applied to teach all over NZ during my final teaching section at Keri Keri High School in late 1982. I sent applications off to state schools, private schools, single sex and co-ed schools, north and south island schools, town and country schools. Nothing!

When I headed back home to Ramelton Rd. to lick my wounds Tom Ryder from NPBHS rang me for an interview and gave me the job there and then. Weird how life works out. 

Prior to my first day, mum and I drove down from Auckland and stayed in a little motel at the base of the school in Coronation Rd. Some friends in my Teachers' College tutor group invited me to stay with them at their family's beach house at Oakura. While there I answered an ad for a flatmate at moved into a house in Spotswood with two girls (Moira and Anne).


Year zero NPBHS
A month after starting teaching, Moira had a birthday on February 26. To celebrate, we headed to a posh place on Devon Street and from there to a party that Anne had been invited to. I was dressed in a suit (as you do to eat out at a posh place), but it turned out the party, organised as a going away for someone, was a fancy dress. Aarrghhhh!

I felt like a complete plonker. I was introduced to a few of Anne's friends. One guy, clearly gay, called Patrick Cameron, had come as Batman. After we'd chatted I went to get a drink. Sitting down, people watching. Next thing I know, this gorgeous vision in an orange flamenco dress sat with me, and, was inviting me to dance!

And we did! And it was love at first sight.  

Sounds like I'm making it up! But I swear it's true, I was just about to say I love you, love you, but then...it was...

...the next day. Moira, Anne and I were in a car driving around Hawera for some reason, we went by Ronald Hugh Morrison's house, and I asked who this vision in orange, that I'd fallen in love with, was.

Jacky Smith. And Anne knew her from theatre. And she worked as a shop assistant in a fashion store, Accessory House, on Devon St.

I screwed my courage to the sticking place, and went in. There she was. Still a vision, I hadn't dreamt it! I mumbled something and asked her to lunch at the Govett Brewster Art Gallery. OMG - she said yes!!


We started going out. I was in heaven and couldn't believe this woman (five years younger but so much more mature in all ways) was actually spending time with me.

By November 1983 I'd moved in to 33 Lorna Street with her (Patrick Cameron, her flatmate, had moved out). We went to Auckland during the year and I'd shown her off to mum and dad and Ross. 

Everyone approved.

Love and peace - Wozza

Wednesday, April 30, 2014

Old friends, memory brushes the same years (Simon and Garfunkel)

Time it was, and what a time it was, it was...a time of innocence, a time of confidences.
Long ago...it must be...I have a photograph.
Preserve your memories; they're all that's left you.

More from 21st April 1984:
Patrick, SWMBO and Lyndsey

With Clay (best man), Margo
(MC) and Chris Loud

Patrick and Jacky's friends

The Knowles 2 sitting left with other friends

The Marbecks 2 standing back right

Love and peace - Wozza

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Wild horses couldn't drag me away (The Rolling Stones)

And so it's January. Happy new year y'all.

I've flipped the desk calendar back. Yes you read that right. I have a calendar from 2004 that I use every year. Each month of that year had a fantastic (and appropriate) quote that I need to be reminded of every year. 

January - Obstacles are those frightful things you see when you take your eyes off your goals - Sydney Smith.

Here are the photographic reproductions that have piled up over the last three weeks.
Randy, SWMBO and Pat

Wozza - shotgun
SWMBO, Wozza and Pat at their Ferntower down under.
Jade and Shimara receive wisdom in Mabelle's kitchen
Christmas dinner at Belle and Gav's with the out-laws
SWMBO and I embrace and recommend the two potato diet

Next edition - the family heirloom!!

Love and peace - Wozza

Monday, March 19, 2012

Into the great wide open, under them skies of blue (Tom Petty)

SWMBO and I have been busy sorting out the stuff to bring back to NZ next week and the stuff to donate to friends in the building and elsewhere. Of course, we've also been shopping for the new house.

Inspired by Patrick and Randy's London home in the shire we are aiming at a theme for each room. I love the way they have their red room (TV lounge), a blue room (spare bedroom), white music room, modern stainless steel sleek kitchen and so on.

Their red room has red curtains, red wall coverings, red sofa, red ornaments. It's red red red all over and it looks spectacular! Not only that but it's very cosy and a great lounge/living space. It shouldn't work really - all that red is an initial jolt to the senses - but it does!


Unfortunately we are like many people who accumulate a variety of different styles of furniture over a number of years. We have collected art work from exotic locations on our travels, along with loads of knick knacks and ornaments, so that over the years rooms have taken on a jumbled jumbo sale type of look.

Before SWMBO gives me a slap I should say that I am obviously over exaggerating and she has impeccable taste for interior design and colour co-ordination. It is me who is to blame for an eventual mish mash of styles.

BUT - I have acknowledged that I have a problem and the solution is the coherant thematic way forward for our home in Otane.

We have so far settled on a rustic theme for the lounge (in my mind this means autumnal colours to go with our oak furniture); the master bedroom is to be gold and white with a definite Arabian theme going on; the first spare bedroom has a regency look (yes all the regency furniture will find a home there).

That leaves the third bedroom and my music room/enclave/extension/studio (I dislike the concept of 'man cave' so forget that one). Incidentally, the music area is henceforth to be known as...(I'm open to suggestions - the room needs a name).

I have been given free rein to furnish the music room as I like so look out!

Love and peace - Wozza

Wednesday, March 14, 2012

Loving would be easy if your colors were like my dreams (Culture Club)

Dear PJ

Many thanks for sending your article on culture. A most interesting topic that I’m drawn to from both a schooling context (school cultures are fascinating) and from a pakeha Nu Zild point of view. As you point out I’m also super keen on pop music.

So pull up a chair, reach for a cokerama and a slice of Pav. and consider my response.

Clearly you’re not writing about 'culture' in terms of your taste in high (fine arts) or low culture (the Blue Mink song Melting Pot would be an example of low culture of course).

Nor were you appraising culture as it relates to language and custom I don't think.

Instead you consider culture in terms of national identity, as in Nu Zilders supposedly have a shared culture (a set of shared attitudes, values, goals, and practices that shape and influence us).
Equally as clearly, your basic reaction to this notion is poppycock, fiddlesticks and 'is not'.
Instead, because modern Nu Zild is such a diverse place, you see a 'brave new cultureless world'.

Okay so…my two cents:

Short version:

Are we headed for a brave new cultureless world? No I don’t believe so.
Long version:
NZ icon - Jeanette Thomas
If I think about NZ culture I tend to think of kiwiana (buzzy bees, pavlova, Footrot Flats, Phar Lapp, weetbix kids), iconic kiwi personalities (Barry Crump, Tim Finn, Ginette MacDonald, Ed Hillary, Fred Dagg, Billy T, Jeanette Thomas, Patrick Cameron, Mayor Tim et al), men-in-black sports heroes (‘Pinetree’ Meads, Jack Lovelock, ‘Buck’ Shelford, Waka Nathan, Mark Todd, Don Clarke, the 1972 Olympic rowing 8), national disasters (Wahine, 1981 Springbok tour, Gallipoli, Cave Creek, Pike River, Erebus, various devastating earthquakes), national successes (1987 and 2011 Rugby World Cups, 1982 and 2010 World Cup Soccer teams), great NZ music (Split Enz, Bambino Beats, Daggy and the Dickheads) various holidays/commemorations (ANZAC, Waitangi) and, of course, there is Kapa Haka.



Bambino Beats
Is that eclectic mix shared by all Aucklanders? Um...no, it’s not. Probably only an aging minority could relate to my list. Auckland houses the largest congregation of humans in NZ and as a bunch they are probably the most diverse ethnically speaking (I'm guessing here). So it’s very unlikely.

Is it shared by my neighbours in Waipukurau and Otane? Yes! Pretty much exclusively. Why? Because the rural heartland is definitely neither a large congregation nor is it like Auckland in any demographic way.

As a middle class, middle aged pakeha, I think that cultural history binds me towards my neighbours in many ways. We share some things, in much the same way that Muslims share some things. It does give us (for good or otherwise) a cultural identity.

Whenever I meet other NZers in my work in the Middle East, who also tend towards middle age and middle class status, we immediately have a shared history, shared work ethic, and a similar perspective on the world.

NZ is small, isolated, and, to the rest of the world, inconsequential. The tyranny of distance has meant that we do emerge with a real sense of culture, not a fake one. Gandhi thought 'a nation's culture resides in the hearts and in the soul of its people'. I think that’s right and it is constantly evolving.

The NZ culture is a cross pollinated mix that resides in all New Zealanders (including you PJ) - whatever they sound or look like. For me, it exists, it’s real and it's useful. We don’t all have to share aspects of my own cultural makeup. We are different but equal, as you originally thought.

My paternal great grandfather brought my grandfather from Rochdale (just north of Manchester) to NZ when he was a young boy. My mother’s side of the family includes aspects of other celtic origins but was essentially of pioneer King Country stock. Where ever I go I take that mixture with me. By a fluke I was born in NZ and started off life wanting to kick a ball like Don Clarke. When I return to Rochdale I immediately feel home but I'm not a Brit and I don't share a British history aside from the legacy that NZ was left with.
Having suggested that cultural identity doesn't really exist anymore, you then appear to want a bob each way and contend that 'cultural identity does more harm than good'. I'm not sure why you think that but George Orwell would be inclined to agree.

In his essay on the sporting spirit George writes:

I am always amazed when I hear people saying that sport creates goodwill between the nations, and that if only the common peoples of the world could meet one another at football or cricket, they would have no inclination to meet on the battlefield. Even if one didn't know from concrete examples (the 1936 Olympic Games, for instance) that international sporting contests lead to orgies of hatred, one could deduce it from general principles.


For me, you and old George are overstating things somewhat. I definitely feel my cultural identity far more when I am away from home. My latent cultural baggage seems to well up and become more obviously part of me. Maybe because of the stark juxtaposition with the Muslim culture that exists all around me. When the world cup was on, it bound me together with fellow kiwis in a very positive way. When I saw the scenes in NZ at the Viaduct Basin I felt a real kinship with a disparate bunch of ethnicities and age groups. All bound by that All Black victory. We were all together, sharing the cultural moment that will continue to link us in the future.

The final words belong to Frank Lloyd Wright (quasi subject of  the great Paul Simon farewell song to Art Garfunkel – hey I needed one arcane pop reference);
Noble life demands a noble architecture for noble uses of noble men. Lack of culture means what it has always meant: ignoble civilization and therefore imminent downfall.

 
It continues to be fine and hot at this end!


Love and peace - Wozza

Thursday, January 5, 2012

How is the air up there? (The La De Das)

I arrived back in the sandpit yesterday after a terrific couple of weeks in Nu Zild for Christmas and New Year's celebrations.

It's good to be back too, not that I didn't enjoy the break from the Al Ain apartment but it always helps when you don't have to go to the limited supply of clothes in the suitcase. Staying with relatives was nice but nothing beats being able to put a CD on whenever you want, eating food from your own pantry and sleeping in your own bed.

Arriving at Dubai airport was a treat, mainly cos I'm a nervous flyer and being on terra firma is always a great feeling anyway but Dubai airport is great - clean, friendly, and spacious.

The friendly bit is the starkest contrast between service in NZ and here. It didn't take long before I was asked (by the doorman at The Park Regis Hotel when I picked up my car) where Marm Jacky was! I know this will happen over and over again too. I told him that Marm Jacky was still in NZ to co-ordinate the move of our stuff into our new Hawke's Bay home.

I need to backtrack a tad before these posts get onto new business. Namely Zen/SWMBO and the wedding of the century (which lived up to its billing by the way).

Zen is big! Over 17 hands high which according to SWMBO, is big. But not as big as the grin on Jacky's face when she rode him for the first time. It was a thrill to see.


The wedding was also a special highlight of the trip back. We've been looking forward to it since last Christmas when Pat and Randy told us the news and invited us. Jacky and I felt really honoured to be included in the Cameron-Buckley global whanau.

Randy's parents and brother, Art, came from Canada; Pat's business partner and her husband came from Manchester, we came from the UAE and there were relatives from all parts of NZ in attendance.

Lindsay Loveridge, who officiated and is pictured between Pat and Randy, has had a long association with Pat, almost as long as Jacky, who has known him since she was a teenager. Lindsay did a great job keeping the ceremony on track when either laughter or tears threatened to deviate proceedings.

It was also a great chance for us to catch up with old friends, some of whom had actually attended our own wedding 28 years ago and it was fun for me to watch people as they recognised Jacky (Jacky Smith????? Is that you???). SWMBO looked stunning btw.

All in all, like everything Pat and Randy do, it was a classy occasion, even the rain cleared up and the sun emerged during the afternoon. Jacky and I loved being there and wish the groom and groom, two great guys, everything they'd wish themselves. Be happy!





So that's it for the NZ break - some great times with friends and family. It was so good to catch up with everyone - we even managed a couple of coffees with Jansy and Graeme in New Plymouth before I departed for Al Ain!

Now I'm back in the apartment which is VERY empty without Marm Jacky, but work starts again on Sunday which will be a welcome distraction.

Love and peace - Wozza

Monday, April 6, 2009

In the white room with black curtains near the station.



This post is dedicated to our London friends in a hopeful attempt to get them to read my blogs - Randy Buckley and Patrick Cameron. As promised - here are the recent photos of Randy and Pat's pad in Highbury/Islington (nestled into Ferntower Rd - part of 'the shire'). That's Randy on the left and a dapper looking Patrick on the right. As you'll remember from an earlier post I had the blue room on the 4th floor - directly below me was the red lounge (housing the smaller organ and yes that is a huge TV) -


Below the red lounge is a landing housing the bigger organ

and then the white lounge (lots of music in here - piano, harp, guitar) and some great artwork from NZ




There we have it - a visual and aural experience - many thanks again guys for allowing me the chance to stay here and project manage the building site!

Love and peace - W