St George's Day

Happy St George’s Day!

Yes, today is the day to commemorate St George, patron saint of England. It’s not as widely regarded as St Patrick’s Day when the plastic Paddies pour green food colouring into their Guinness and dance to fiddle music while wearing shamrocks. Good for them; I’m all for celebrating your national day – even if you are a hanger-on because you think the Emerald Isle is romantic and everything Irish is fine.

England doesn’t get the same treatment abroad. In England the pubs may be festooned with the proud St George Cross and people may wear red roses (unless they’re from Yorkshire – everything has multiple associations) and jingle through a Morris dance or two, but the rest of the world stays strangely silent.

For some reason, it is not fashionable to take pride in your national identity if you are English, especially if you are living in New Zealand, where England is responsible for all the evils of the world if you believe the national press – and sadly, many Kiwis do.

Recently the St George’s Cross, which has been the flag of England for centuries, has been reclaimed by sports fans, especially those of football, cricket and rugby, and this has put other non-sports fans off. In a bizarre union, it is also flown from Anglican churches. On the Sunday closest to the day itself, many congregations sing Jerusalem – the same hymn sung with rousing effect by the Barmy Army when their team takes the field.

Once on a par with Christmas revelries, the celebrations are now more muted, and there is even a movement to abolish St George as being too Anglo-Saxon. This is ludicrous! St George was born in Palestine and served as a soldier in the Roman army in Turkey. According to legend he killed a dragon that was terrorising the inhabitants of a town in Libya, in return for the people converting to Christianity.

As well as being the patron of the scouting movement, St George is also the saintly representative of Spain, Portugal, Georgia, Serbia, Bulgaria, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Macedonia. This is what we should be celebrating as a fitting symbol for England. It embraces diversity; welcomes people of differing cultures; is creative and indestructible, standing up for what it believes in. I see no shame in being proud of that.

William Shakespeare is said to have been born on St George’s Day, and though nobody really knows, it would seem fitting for this great English playwright who loved his country and admired other nations to have the final word.

"In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility:
But when the blast of war blows in our ears
Then imitate the action of
the tiger…

I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot!
Follow your spirit and
upon this charge
Cry, ‘God for Harry, England, and St George!"

Compatibilty test 2

Either, Or

Mountains or sea

Austen or Bronte

Town or country

Cat or dog

Play or watch

Hot or cold

Sandals or boots

Book or film

Lunch or dinner

Ski or snowboard

Wine or beer

Flowers or chocolate

Red or yellow

Pulp Fiction or Natural Born Killers

Blur or Oasis

Football or rugby

Bath or shower

X-country or downhill

Tattoos – yes or no

Boat or plane

Oil or watercolour

Whale or dolphin

Earth or sky

City or United

Raw or polished

Hemingway or Fitzgerald

Gloss or matt

Lift or stairs

Antique or modern

Square or round

Individual or team sport

Tea or coffee

East or West

Latin or Greek

Monopoly or Scrabble

Deciduous or conifer

Sydney or Melbourne

Broadsheet or tabloid

Coronation Street or Eastenders

Sheets or duvet

Compatibility test

There are certain things that people tell you and you extrapolate the information to form a psychometric profile of that person from one tiny detail.

For example if someone likes dogs, I assume they like to control things – they like companionship, but on their terms and are they not fond of unpredictability. They may be insecure or find it difficult to make friends, but they are loyal and will sustain strong relationships. They require something that loves them and depends on them and needs them. They will probably go on to have children.

If they prefer cats, they are possibly slightly arrogant and unreliable. They like their freedom and don’t like to be tied down. They change their mind at the last minute and are tempted by the best offer rather than the first commitment. They like beautiful things and are happy to observe without having to hold. They will probably not want to have children.

If someone likes deciduous trees, I assume they like change. They believe in renewal and they are prepared to take risks and make mistakes because they can forgive, forget and move on. Life is an experience to be lived to the full and they can laugh at failure because failure leads to growth.

Those who prefer conifers like consistency. They are more likely to vote conservative and they are resistant to change. You know where you are with these people; they don’t have rapid mood swings and they avoid confrontation. They like tradition – there is a proper way to do things and they get frustrated when people break the rules.

Of course, these are wild generalisations and totally unscientific. But we do this all the time. And so, I have devised my own compatibility psychometric test, using this theory.

Here’s how it works: You fill it out, and then give it to a prospective partner, friend, or employee. There are 40 questions. A perfect partnership should have a compatibility quota of 25-35. If too many answers are the same, you will agree on everything and that’s boring, but if you don’t have anything in common, then why are you together in the first place?

Maybe I should patent this device. What do you reckon? If anyone has any other top ‘either/or’s, and what their extrapolated implications please let me know. See next post for the list!

Grape picking

A couple of weeks ago I went to harvest grapes for a friend of a friend on their vineyard in Te Horo. For some reason this is something I have always wanted to do.

I love vineyards. William Morris once wrote “Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful.” I think this is a lesson to live by. It certainly applies to vineyards.

The spacing of the vines forms perfectly symmetrical rows of brilliant green or flaming red depending on the season. The tendrils curl in crazy ways around the supporting wires to hang on and take over. The roses often planed at the end of the vines bloom tenderly but are readily sacrificed to a purpose.

As for the grapes themselves; they are bold goblets of rich flavour and are decorated in sumptuous skins. When pressed, they release wildly hedonistic juices to be converted into decadent delights. Beautiful and functional; they combine artistry with industry – what more could you want?

So I loved being there picking the grapes, even when it started raining, my back was aching and my fingers sticky. I loved the ride on the tractor (my first ever) and the lunch provided, as we sat around an outdoor table tucking into bread and cheese with banana cake and wicked fudge.

And I loved being paid in wine! Look out for Avatar (available at Macs Brewery Bar and St John’s Bar in Wellington) – it’s great, and when the 2008 pinot noir vintage comes out, I had a hand in it. It was tiring work but it felt good to be getting to the grass roots of a thing I love from all angles.

Capability Matrix

I have been at my current job for six months now, which means that it is time to fit me into the ‘capability matrix’. This futuristic-sounding vortex of dysfunction is, apparently, an ‘integral part of the overall human resources toolkit’.

Its purpose is to ‘identify areas of individual development’ and also to ‘prioritise our investment in training and development’. So far; so woolly. Of course, what we really want to know is how much we’ll get paid.

The idea is that each staff member sits down with their manager and goes through their nine page document saying why they think they’re wonderful and the manager says why they think they’re not, and it’s just a big tug o’ war of personal skills until someone gives up and looses the will to live.

I had the initial meeting with my (admittedly very nice, and not steeped in the corporate mire) manager this week. Six pages, two hours and a couple of strong long blacks later, we had still not finished our ‘performance objectives discussion’, so we must schedule a time to complete this. In the meantime I am floating in virtual limbo-land without a placement on the wherewithal template.

I had told my husband that I was undergoing this procedure, and on the way home he asked, ‘So, are you capable then?’ I told him I was only half capable and that this meant he would have to cook dinner. So far, he has made me pork fillet on potato rosti with apple and red onion chutney; tangy soy mushrooms with soba noodles; spicy cauliflower with chilli and Indian potato curry. I wonder how long I can keep this going…

Breath mints

My new favourite thing is Eclipse breath mints - especially the peppermint flavour. I love the shiny metallic packaging, and the way it pops into your handbag. I love the crisp cleansing taste of the little mints and the way they clear your sinuses and make it feel like you're breathing up a mountain. I love the oval shape and the two-tone colour. But most of all I love the sound they make when they rattle around in the box.

They are so much better than those weird gel strips that were doing the rounds a few years back - remember the things? You put them on your tongue and they dissolved. It always felt curiously illicit but not nearly as satisfying. What a huge marketing con that was! Has there been a better one in recent memory?

Bizarrely enough, they made it onto the Time list for best inventions of 2002. But then again, so did a Japanese invention that claimed it could translate what your dog was 'saying' by attaching radio microphone to its collar. It was called a 'Bowlingual'. I'm not making this up!

The Man That Lovelock Couldn't Beat

On Friday I went to see The Man That Lovelock Couldn't Beat at Circa 2. It was a well-acted and well-written play that combined fact and fiction, imagining that there was a Maori lad called Tom Morehu who beat Jack Lovelock, but didn't make it to the history books because he was from the wrong side of the tracks. Jack Lovelock won New Zealand's first Olympic gold medal in the 1500m at the 1936 Olympics.

The play itself was pretty good, although I found the character of the narrator extremely annoying - just so smug and schoolmarmish. The staging was simple and effective, the acting was consistently good and the running scenes were actually very well depicted, avoiding the risk of being terribly cheesy. There's a good review of the play on the Theatre view site.

But what interested me was some of the issues it raised. There was a suggestion that Jack Lovelock should not have gone to the Olympics as there were more important global concerns and the Games were just a showcase for Hitler's Nazi party. For one thing, it is easy to criticise with hindsight: at the time, many were impressed with Hitler's economic reforms to strengthen his country and his commitment to health and exercise, which saw people trying to physically 'be the best they could be'. Sound familiar?

As to the issue of boycotting the Olympics, there is a similar call to boycott those in Beijing later this year. I don't believe they should ever have been granted to China with its appalling humanitarian record. However, they have been. To ask athletes to forgo the opportunity to compete at a world-class level and in the greatest sporting arena in the world, is to ask for the supreme sacrifice. This is what they train for: weeks; months; years of dedication, hard work and sacrifice which most of us could never achieve. And unless they are of the ilk of Sir Steven Redgrave who managed five successive gold medals (that's twenty years at the top of his game) this may be their only chance to achieve their life's ambition.

Easy for us to say with our feet up in front of the television, but would you give up your dreams - your entire life's goal - for a political situation you didn't make? And are you sure you are not contributing more to the desecration of human rights by buying cheap plastics and clothing from China manufactured in sweat shops? Can you honestly say you are prepared to disadvantage yourself even a little financially to support your ideals? This is in a country which has just brokered a free trade agreement with the country they protest against. It only seems to matter if it costs you money.

The other point that made me think was the suggestion that Jack Lovelock was 'lucky' - he won a scholarship to Oxford, broke world records in athletics and embarked upon a glittering medical career. As far as I'm concerned, all of these things take hard work and dedication. Anyone can turn up on any given day and run fast (well, not anyone, but you know what I mean) but to do it day after day, to get up every morning for a four mile run before a cold shower and a day's work doesn't sound easy to me. If someone is prepared to do that, then they deserve all the 'luck' they get.

When I was a child, there was a high profile media fuelled stand-off between Coe and Ovett. Coe was the privileged one; Ovett the scruffy oik. You were supposed to support Ovett; he was the darling with the impetuous gestures. As an adolescent, I did prefer him and his swagger over Coe's calm dignity. As I grew up, I realised that Coe was the one who cared about the sport; who never belittled anyone else's achievements; who made no secret of the fact that he had to combine painstaking dedication with natural talent; and who had to battle the media perception that he was the 'lucky one'.

By the same token, I don't automatically support the underdog anymore. I have great respect for a champion who defends their title; they have to contend with everyone else wanting to knock them off their perch. They are in the media glare, and if they 'fail' to win again, the microphones are thrust in their faces and they are asked to comment on 'what went wrong?' For those who are able to smile and praise their newly crowned vanquisher, I have nothing but admiration.