I was told by someone a few years ago that after learning that Deco-themed weddings had become de rigeur and several had been included in weekend celebrations, an Art Deco Weekend guest speaker opined:
“Judging by the amount of grey hair of local devotees present tonight, I wouldn’t be too surprised if there weren’t a few upcoming Art Deco themed funerals!”
His comments weren’t overly well received at the time, apparently. But his idea obviously struck a chord somewhere, as at the next Art Deco Weekend, a “Death By Chocolate” event will be held at Dunstalls Funeral Parlour in Napier.
Funeral Director Paul Dunstall is an old family friend of mine. He is a great guy with a wicked sense of humour, so this comes as no real surprise.
But it does also raise two interesting points:
1/ When WILL there be an Art Deco Funeral.
2/ Having been Napier’s main tourist event for well over 20 years now, when will Art Deco Weekend start to die off?
Separated at birth? Two fine examples of rugged, antipodean handsomeness!
What do Hollywood stud muffin, Hugh Jackman and I have in common?
Quite a lot, evidently!
We’re both:
• Fine examples of rugged, antipodean handsomeness.
• Rocking pretty kick-arse beards at the moment.
• And we’ve both been diagnosed with the same type of skin cancer.
But never fear – neither Hugh, nor I will be shuffling off this mortal coil any time soon! BCCs are the most common form of cancer. In terms of skin cancers they are one of the “better ones” (if there is such a thing – sounds like an oxymoron to me) to get and while rarely fatal, do have a nasty habit of spreading and tend to ulcerate their surrounding skin making them quite unsightly in the long-run. So they are still considered “malignant” and best removed as soon as possible.
They are most commonly a result of over exposure to ultra-violet light, making sun-loving Australians like Hugh and cricket playing New Zealanders like myself prime candidates. My surgeon tells me there might also be a fair dose of heredity in contracting them too. Both my Mum and Dad had BCCs removed, so it was only a matter of time before I was next.
Earlier this year Hugh took to social media to encourage others to wear sunscreen and get any dodgy moles checked after he had a second procedure to remove a BCC from his nose.
In a couple weeks’ time I’m going under the knife again, too, to get some more removed. This time from around my face and ear.
It’s one of the reasons I’ve been growing a beard over winter – not to hide them, but because my moles are around my hairline, so I will be undergoing a very severe buzz-cut before surgery and decided to enjoy some facial hirsuteness while I could.
My wife loves my beard, calling it “the least douchey beard I have ever seen” (That IS a compliment… I think…) – she appears to have a pathological hatred of the current “Hipster Beard” trend.
Working in the office of a forestry company, I’ve gone more for the “Full Lumberjack” look. “And I’m OK” with that!
My new cranial aerodynamic-ness will come in handy with the cricket season fast approaching and I won’t have to fuss about with my hair in the morning for about three months. It will, however, also show off the aftermath of surgery rather obviously.
But I will wear my scars with pride. They certainly aren’t my first and won’t be my last. Like the frown and smile lines around my eyes and face, they will show I’ve lived (and will continue to live) a full life. I’m sure Hugh will do exactly the same!
If YOU have any suspiscious moles or spots on you skin, PLEASE see your doctor, or somewhere like Molemap to get them checked out! It may be nothing at all, it may result in a small scar, or it could save your life!
Fish stocks in Hawke Bay are getting so low local recreational fishers have had to resort to using some drastic measures:
As part of the tri-annual “Election Promise-fest”, New Zealand’s governing National Party said they would establish “Recreational Fishing Parks” in the inner Hauraki Gulf and the entire Marlborough Sounds – banning commercial fishing from operating in those areas.
I was in the car with talkback radio on an hour or so after the policy was announced and callers’ reactions, like a school of kingfish sensing a big pot of burly in the water, were fast and severe.
The most common bite the promised bait received was “It won’t make any difference as there isn’t really any commercial fishing in those places as it is!”
Sounds like their plan hit a bit of a snag.
The day before he announced this plan Prime Minister John Key was in Napier to attend the All Blacks vs. Argentina game at McLean Park. As part of his visit he spent some time schmoozing with party faithful at a bar in Napier’s party central-come commercial fishing port, Ahuriri.
In such an ideal location I think Mr Key missed out on a great opportunity for local votes by not announcing his “Recreational Fishing Park” plan here and including in the plan a body of water very close and dear to our hearts – Hawke Bay!
Fish stocks in Hawke Bay have been in decline for some time. Catching fish by surfcasting or kon-tiki from the shores around Napier is proving more and more fruitless. Many recreational boat fishermen I know don’t even bother going out on the bay much any more either, as the number of fish they catch has gone down almost as fast as the price of fuel for their boats has gone up, making it no longer worth the effort or cost.
14,744 anglers recorded over 115 days of fishing competition how many fish (the survey included five species: snapper, gurnard, tarakihi, trevally and groper) they caught. The results were based on the number of fish per angler, per day and ranged from a high of 2.23 gurnard per angler, per day in 2011-12 to a low of 0.006 groper the same year. The average fish per angler, per day over that 8 year period works out as 0.654 – that’s just over half a fish per person, per trip. It’s hardly worth it!
The low fishing stocks hurt the local business as much as the anglers, as there is an estimated 2,000 recreational boats in the region at a total value of around $83 million. Add to that $28 million of fishing gear and over $10 million in fuel, maintenance, fuel etc. and recreational fishing has an estimated value of at least $121 MILLION to Hawke’s Bay’s economy!
Commercial fishing operations, by comparison, are actually expanding! While most big operators in the region fish outside of Hawke Bay – mainly out towards the Hikurangi Trench and beyond, it is not uncommon to see commercial boats operating within the limits of Mahia Peninsula and Cape Kidnappers. I have even seen commercial fishing boats regularly running a couple hundred meters offshore along by Hawke’s Bay Airport. You can guarantee they are catching more than 0.654 of a fish – That’s just not fair!
So, Mr Key. I understand you’re visiting Napier again today (Thursday 18 September). Your local MP’s have been rather ineffectual in the region despite claiming they are “Backing the Bay”, so let’s see if you can do any better. Add Hawke Bay to your list of “Recreational Fishing Parks”. Ensure the conservation of our region’s salt water fish stocks. Keep our recreational fishermen and fisherwomen happy with tight lines and bobbing rods. Make sure a pastime worth hundreds of millions of dollars to our region doesn’t end up floating belly-up in an empty Hawke Bay.
Hawke’s (and Hawke) Bay deserves better!
*In Breaking News*
There may be further reasoning to making Hawke Bay a “Recreational Fishing Park” as Ministry of Primary Industry agents swooped on a local fishing business after it appeared their in-shore catch records were substantially less than they had been recording as exporting.
Last week Hastings District Council released a promotional campaign they had been working on, along with Business Hawke’s Bay, Food Hawke’s Bay and HB Winegrowers called “Hawke’s Bay – Great Things Grow Here”
The scheme is designed, we were told, as a resource to attract businesses to move to and trade with our great little region – Hawke’s Bay. There was only one slightly major flaw – Hastings apparently didn’t ask anyone else to be part of this “Hawke’s Bay Region” promotion. In fact, if you like what the scheme offers, the only “Key Contacts” on the website are Hastings District Council, Business Hawke’s Bay, Food Hawke’s Bay and HB Winegrowers. No one else. Not Napier City Council. Not Hawke’s Bay Regional Council – no one!
This concerns me. Not from the perspective of HDC going at a project like this alone, as HB councils have been doubling up on ideas and services for years, but that BHB, FHB and HBWG (all based at the EIT Campus in Napier) happily went along with it. Business Hawke’s Bay is tasked with the economic development of the WHOLE Hawke’s Bay Region. So why didn’t anyone sitting in their Napier offices say “Um, hey, shouldn’t we involve EVERYONE in this?”
Hastings Mayor, Local Government New Zealand Chairman and staunch Hawke’s Bay amalgamationalist, Lawrence Yule further stoked flames of antagonism by saying:
“Our council made the decision to just get on and do it.”
He might as well have said “It’s MY amalgamated Hawke’s Bay Empire and if you don’t play by MY rules, I’m taking bat and ball and going home!”
Naturally, Napier Mayor and equally as staunch ANTI-amalgamationalist fired his own shots back on his blog and in the local paper, claiming “Great Things Grow Here” was produced in secret and all part of Yule’s amalgamation plans.
If he was indeed intent on promoting ALL of Hawke’s Bay as a great location for business to relocate surely he would have involved ALL of Hawke’s Bay local bodies, promotional agencies and a few businesses, rather than focusing on how it could benefit just his own council.
By going it alone in this project Yule has merely exacerbated the problem and perceived lack of coordination and cooperation between HB councils, playing up to the concept of an amalgamated Hawke’s Bay council being the panacea for all such issues. He needs to put old ideologies, rivalries and grudges aside and work in the here, the now and for the future of the whole Hawke’s Bay region.
If Hawke’s Bay is to pull itself out of its current doldrums, successfully evolve into a regional economic success story and move into the future, it can’t be with all this one-upmanship, sniping and negativity between its leaders.
It’s tit for tat. It’s schoolyard squabbling. It’s pathetic and it’s harming Hawke’s Bay.
IF there is to be any form of Hawke’s Bay amalgamation in the future (and it’s becoming a bigger and bigger “if” and more and more distant future), surely neither Napier nor Hastings’ current mayors can be part of it, or certainly at the head of it if current attitudes and agendas continue.
Meanwhile we ratepayers just keep paying their wages…
Napier, Hastings and ALL OF HAWKE’S BAY deserve better!
The “A-Frame Special”! My own custom-made, hand-crafted bat from MG2
I love cricket. I’ve been playing and watching it for years. For me each new season generally starts when the latest cricket gear catalogues start appearing in the mail and online around September. For anywhere between a few hours to a few days I revert to my ten-year old self, pawing over the glossy pages, “ooh”-ing and “aah”-ing over the latest bats pads and gloves.
90% of cricket bats worldwide are mass machine produced – these are the ones you will see in these catalogues and big chain sports stores and come in enough sizes, shapes and weights to suit pretty much everyone.
Except me.
I’m 6’8” tall. Regular-sized bats tend to look like matchsticks in my hands and taking up a stance at the crease requires me to almost bend in half to touch the ground with the toe of a normal sized bat.
I’ve played like this for many years, but last season I decided to do something about it – I got my own personalised, “Andrew-sized” bat made!
In Hawke’s Bay we are very fortunate to have two highly regarded, highly skilled hand crafted cricket bat makers based in the region.
I have known one of those bat makers, Marty Graham – owner of MG2 Cricket, for years. He’s been a fantastic supporter of my cricket club, Napier Old Boys Marist and now plays for us too. Marty has made bats for some of the biggest stars in cricket, so when I asked him to make an XL-sized bat bat for me (one of the biggest stars in my own lunchtime), he happily obliged.
It was quite a fascinating process. Marty keeps you updated on your bat, checking to see if you prefer it this way or that way. Oval handle, or round? Big, thick edges to smash the ball around the park? Or a thinner, more precise bat for a longer, tactical innings?
Hand-crafting a cricket bat the way Marty does using traditional methods and tools (draw knives, spokeshaves and block planes etc.) is a very labour-intensive and time consuming process. Marty makes his bats in stages:
Stage One begins with a raw “Cleft” – literally a solid block of willow that Marty sources from overseas. While we have willow trees in New Zealand, they’re not the right type of willow for bat-making. Marty checks the cleft and selects which end will be best as the top “Shoulder” of the bat and which will be the bottom “Toe”. Then he starts planning the edges of the block, thicknesses the cleft down to bat width and planes the front “Face” of the bat. The bat is pressed to make it harder, the “Splice” is cut in the top where the handle will go and the bat’s “Shoulders” are formed.
My bat – Somewhere between Stages One and Two.
Stage Two involves the bat’s handle being fitted and the bat being cut to length and size.
Stage Three sees the finer part of hand-crafting coming into action. The bat is shaped with draw knives, spokeshaves and block planes. The handle is rasped to the preferred shape and size. It really looks like a cricket bat now
By Stage Four we are into the final stages as the bat is sanded and shaped into its final style / design.
Oooh, Pretty! My bat in its final stages of creation.
Stage Five is finishing – the bat is polished, the handle is bound with string and the handle’s rubber grip is put on. Labels are applied and the bat is oiled with linseed.
A hand-crafted bat can be made in as little as three hours – this is without glue drying time etc. factored in.
A further hour is usually added for “Knocking In” – preparing the bat for a lifetime of hitting hard, leather cricket balls by, well, repeatedly hitting it with hard leather cricket balls (or mallet) and oiling it with linseed oil. So, regardless of size or grade, it can take as little as four hours to make a bat!
The finished, custom-made, “A Frame Special” (Left) and trusty old, standard sized, “Pinky”
Hand-crafted cricket bats are generally not made one at a time. Usually a bat maker would have several bats in various stages to make the best and most efficient use of time and materials. Marty says it’s generally best to be working on anything from 10 – 15 bats at any one time!
Despite their old-fashioned bat making mehods, most of MG2’s custom is sourced from a very modern method – the internet. As well as operating a website where you can order bats, gloves, pads etc. MG2 also has a popular Facebook page attracting lots of customers, fans, ‘Likes” and pics of Marty’s products in action.
We’re very fortunate to have someone as highly regarded and skilled in the cricketing world as Marty is in Hawke’s Bay. So if you are intending to play cricket this season, please check him out!
Like most children, Little Miss Frame has several soft toys, teddy bears etc. – each of which her mum and I have named for ease of memory and identification.
Being children of the 80’s, Mrs F and I were brought up amidst a flood of “branded” toys. “Barbie” was, and will forever be “Barbie”, no matter how many versions of her you have. My GI Joes all have their allotted code-names as per the packaging and Carebears will always be either “Carebear” (as we call the little one we got Miss F), or whatever its model name is – “Fun-shine” “Hugs-a-lot” etc.
The biggest percentage of soft toys my wife and I had, though, avoided mass commercialisation. My wife had (and still has) “Mr Ted” – a teddy bear almost as big as she is now that her father made and “Eric” the troll doll. I had the “Playschool”-influenced, hand-made “Big Ted” and “Little Ted”, as well as “Monks” the monkey and a mini Footrot Flats dog I got for my 7th birthday called, you guessed it, “Dog”!
Like us, 99% of our daughter’s toys are unbranded, hand-made etc., so we had free reign with what we called them. But WHY we named them what we did is half the fun of the exercise.
We got a second, smaller hippo for pram travel and naturally we couldn’t have a “George”, without having a “Mildred”!
There’s “Vincent” – the bear with one ear (the other started coming loose and had to be removed for safety reasons).
And “Henrietta” is a small, googly-eyed Giraffe. I have no idea why I called her Henrietta, other than it seemed a fitting name for a giraffe at the time.
These are the names that will stick with our little Miss and her toys for years to come. Hopefully she’ll have fond memories of playing with them and when she has her own children (no pressure – you’re only 9 months old!) she’ll have fun naming their teddies and toys.
The two elements of Fathers’ Day that mean the most to me.
This Sunday will, for me, be (to quote Charles Dickens) the best of times and the worst of times.
It will be my first Fathers’ Day as an actual father – our daughter turns 9 months old this week. But it will also be the first Fathers’ Day since my Dad died, which makes the occasion bitter-sweet.
Naturally I still miss Dad immeasurably. I miss his wisdom, his presence, his adoration for his granddaughter and his unexpected visits just to see her. Most of all I miss that I’ll never be able to see him or give him a hug ever again.
Grief is a strange thing. Some days you’re fine. You live your life, think about those that aren’t with you anymore and smile at their memory. Other days some completely inconsequential thing will trigger a flood of melancholy that threatens to wash you away completely.
I’ve been fortunate enough to survive its onslaught so far mainly because I have something to live for and be positive about. She’s small, absolutely gorgeous and likes nothing more than being propped up in my lap, looking deep into my eyes, giving me a big smile and saying “MumMumMum!” then blowing raspberries at me.
Nine months is an incredibly long time in parenthood. Historians use the initials “BC” (Before Christ) & “AD” (Ano Dominae) to specify recent historical periods. Parents are more likely to use the initials “BB” (Before Baby) – a period that may as well have been over 2000 years ago for the changes that have taken place since this tiny sentient being came into their lives.
Sleeping, drinking, pooping, crying, smiling, looking, thinking, exploring, eating, sitting, rolling, chewing and crawling are all things we, as adults, take for granted and as ancient history. But to witness someone going through these things first-hand for the first time is world-altering.
I must say, our little lady is doing a stellar job of coming to grips with this big, crazy world. Like the little girl in the YouTube clip – part of me wishes she’ll never grow up and remain this small and cute forever. As a modern-day, cellphone camera-equipped father, I have taken, literally, (954 at last count) just under a thousand photos of her in these last 9 months, so part of her always will be this small and cute. But I also look forward to watching her grow and develop her own personality. We’re in no big hurry, though.
She fell asleep in my arms the other night. There is something so intimate in holding a sleeping baby. They are so cute, but also so vulnerable. You feel a mixture of utter love and devotion to your child, mixed with a stone-cold protective readiness to go Jack Reacher on the arse of anyone who so much as tries to hurt or take your baby from you.
Someday I hope to see my Dad again on some ethereal plane, whether it be in Heaven, Purgatory, Nirvana, Elysium or even the Matrix and give him that long-awaited hug. But until then I’ll focus on being the best father I can be for our daughter and giving her all the hugs and kisses I can.
The question is often asked “What planet do politicians live on?” In the case of Hawke’s Bay’s local body politicians the answer must be “Planet Teflon” – as nothing ever seems to stick, especially accountability.
From storage space shortages, to wildly inaccurate consultants’ reports on projected visitor motions (pun intended); things did not get off to a good start for Napier’s revamped cultural and historical hub – “MTG”, or “Museum, Theatre, Gallery”.
Now, after another council-commissioned consultant’s report – The “McDermott Miller Report” has been released into just what went wrong, where, how badly and how it could be fixed.
I have read the report and it makes pretty good, common sense. Perhaps its only down-fall is that it cost Napier rate-payers the equivalent of New Zealand’s average annual wage to tell them what a Napier ratepayer on the average wage could have told them after a visit or two to MTG.
After a flurry of publicity and changes in the last couple weeks, I now understand that Napier City Council announced they will not be blaming, firing, or holding anyone accountable for MTG’s much-publicised failings.
REALLY??
NO-ONE???
In fact, the council appears to have taken a “move along – nothing to see here!” (Inferences like that will NOT help visitor numbers, by the way) approach. Napier City Council’s new CEO Wayne Jack even said he was “tiring of the barrage of criticism” being levelled at MTG.
My advice to Wayne in helping avoid such situations is simple:
Of course, how silly of us – it’s all the rate-paying public and fact-quoting media’s fault! What an absolute load of imperious rubbish!
I was saddened not to hear or see any rebuttal from Hawke’s Bay Today Editor, Andrew Austin, supporting his reporters or readers / online commenters on such a ludicrous statement to what is a very public issue.
In the real world, when things this big go this wrong, people lose their jobs. MTG is currently going through a round of staff redundancies as a result of their current review. If MTG’s marketing department had indeed ignored a large portion of the community as potential visitors because of their socio-economic status, as McDermott Miller claims then, yes, heads certainly need to roll – A region’s culture and history is made up from everyone’s input, so no-one should be exempted from being able to view and appreciate it. But you can’t help but feel that deeper problems, well out of the control of staff, have not been accurately accounted for.
How are Mrs Arnott and former NCC CEO and MTG project manager Neil Taylor, despite their deep involvement in MTG’s development, apparently completely free from criticism or accountability?
Current Mayor, Bill Dalton says he “did his apprenticeship” under Arnott and the majority of the current council is unchanged from the one led by Arnott for so many years, so there is doubtlessly still a sense (or burden) of loyalty there.
But there appears to be far less love between current council CEO Wayne Jack and his predecessor – Jack having to tidy up a number of messes left over from the previous regime in his first months in office. In fact the way in which Jack does a number of things is a complete reversal to Taylor’s modus operandi, so it would not have been too surprising to have seen Taylor being “Thrown under the Art Deco Bus (another of his projects)”, But no – no accountability there either
Come to think of it, any and all past and current Napier city councillors involved in committees for and voting on MTG’s errant planning and enactment have somehow escaped any and all responsibility or accountability for some very expensive mistakes that are very embarrassing to Napier.
How is that fair?
All this MTG publicity couldn’t come at a worse time for the “Friends of MTG” programme, as they are in the middle or their annual membership renewal programme.
My wife and I are “Friends of MTG” and have been for a number of years – so any “conflicts of interest” claims that those mentioned above have completely avoided will doubtlessly now be levelled at me…. 🙁
I and a number of my fellow “MTG Friends” think for all its faults MTG does indeed have a lot of unfulfilled potential – it’s still a bit of a “blank canvas” if you will. But we also want to see those responsible for some major errors held accountable for their actions.
What do other “MTG Friends” think?
I would expect this year’s membership numbers depend on it.
Napier, its history, present, and future, its art and culture deserves better.
My Dad with his new granddaughter, his “Little Angel”.
My Dad died last month.
It wasn’t expected but it was peaceful at least. He’d had a cold for a week or two beforehand and it appears to have quietly and suddenly developed into pneumonia. He died in his sleep early on a Sunday morning aged 78.
My dad had a secret identity – he was Superman!
Well, to me at least.
He couldn’t fly (as far as I was aware) and he didn’t wear a cape or his undies on the outside of his clothes – that would be far too flashy or attention-seeking for this typical, humble, kiwi bloke.
But he was my hero.
He was a loving, caring, loyal and attentive father and husband and I already miss him more than I could ever describe.
While 78 may be relatively early age to die (the average age of a New Zealand male is 77), he packed a whole lot of life into those 78 years.
He grew up around Lake Waikaremoana in northern Hawke’s Bay in the 1930’s and 40’s where his father was the Government Ranger. You couldn’t make fun of Dad when he said the old line of “Walking a mile, barefooted, through snow to school”, because he really had!
He lived the ultimate “Good Keen Man” lifestyle – hunting, fishing and tramping through some of Hawke’s Bay’s wildest and most beautiful areas.
Dad’s mum and dad divorced (he never talked much about this, but it must have been highly unusual for the time and I think he held this against his mum for some time) and when Granddad retired as a ranger, he and Dad moved down to Napier.
One house they lived in was on Carlyle Street (now part of the Countdown carpark) and another was where York Avenue and Wharerangi Road now meet in Tamatea. The council enacted the Public Works Act to buy their property. Dad was always a little disappointed that the grass ‘park’ area that remains (originally part of his home’s back yard) was big enough for another home to be built on the site but was not returned to our family.
Dad had many talents – He once made it into Napier’s Daily Telegraph when he built a scale model of the city’s new St John’s Cathedral
Dad lived in that (now mythical) age where jobs were plentiful. You walked out of one, down the road and straight into another. One of Dad’s many jobs was mowing the runway at Napier / Hawke’s Bay Airport – Air-FIELD would have been a more appropriate title, as this was in the years before the tarmac runway. Earlier this year a friend of mine who works at the airport now happened upon some old invoices and letters of Dad’s from his time there (50-60 odd years ago!) that were unearthed when an old hangar was demolished. Dad was stoked.
Dad owned numerous cars and loved all things mechanical. Despite never being a qualified mechanic, he worked in a number of garages and was head-hunted a number of times by other workshops.
A Firman’s advertisement featuring Dad from Hawke’s Bay Photo News 1963
He met Mum and they ‘dated’ for 14 years. Dad’s marriage proposal was allegedly “Well, I suppose we had better do something about it.” I (an only child – Mum and Dad had me when they were quite old) came along 11 months later. Dad gave up his outdoors lifestyle to look after his family, but he was still involved with running the local Mountain Safety and Deerstalkers’ Associations for a number of years.
As a father and husband he was outstanding. He was caring and considerate, always helpful and encouraging. He must have been at least a little disappointed that I never took a major interest in his loves of hunting and fishing, or cars, but he never showed it. He was very proud in later years of my writing and activity in Napier. He kept clippings of anything I’d written or appeared in the newspaper for.
He supported me in whatever I wanted to do. He helped coach my school and junior club soccer and cricket teams. If I tried and failed at something he encouraged me to figure out what I had done wrong and try again the right way. He was very patient.
He was always very fair and when making a big decision, like buying my first car (or even small decisions for that matter) he would list all the positive points…… (here it comes)… BUT… then list all the negative points. It was infuriating, BUT (damn it!) ingrained in me that there are always two sides to every decision, story or argument that have to be considered and taken into account.
He made it into the paper again near the end of his working days. Here he is with what remained of Napier’s iconic light arches that used to straddle Emerson St at its Hastings and Dalton St intersections.
Dad LOVED learning stuff – he was always open to information and ideas – something I’m very glad I inherited from him. Even in retirement, Dad was always busy with little projects – fixing this, making that, finding a better way to do things.
Dad never once insulted or belittled me – something that can’t be said for a lot of other people.
As I said, my Dad was Superman. But even Superman has his Kryptonite. Dad’s was his health.
I told Dad emphatically on a number of these health scares that he was not allowed to die until he had grandchildren. With the early passing of my grandparents I never got to interact with or remember mine and I wanted my children to have that experience.
Dad and Mum were always supportive when my wife and I were having trouble starting a family and as a result Dad was super-proud when his granddaughter arrived last year. She was his “Little Princess” and “Little Angel”. One of the last times we talked he was going to solder up some angel wings for her.
Dad had complained of feeling tired and sluggish in the weeks before he died. But, as the typical Kiwi bloke, he took the stance of “if it hasn’t fallen off, don’t worry about it”. I spoke to him on the phone the day before he died and he said he was fine.
But he wasn’t.
While his mind and spirit were perfectly capable, his body was not and he leaves an immeasurably huge hole in my life.
Goodbye, Dad. I will always love you. If I can live my life half as well as you lived yours and be half as good a father and husband as you were, I’ll be a very happy man.
Another Firman’s advertisement featuring Dad in Hawke’s Bay Photo News, this time from March 1960. Hawke’s Bay Photo News available to view via HB Knowledge Bank
