even halfies can be deceptive
but lets not be pedantic when meeting The Challenge. Instead let’s think along a favourite theme of mine: Time
ON A WALK
okay, a wee hike) recently I once again passed this ancient shack. Built some time ago in the distant past (hey, New Zealand—anything older than fifty years is antique). That door opened into the office, and the whole was in pursuit of profit (real capitalism, Yay~!) from the back of The Sheep. Sadly sheepies are now relegated to the sidelines but capitalism re-applied the site to the making of tanks. Oodles of them, all sizes and shapes and apparently doing well … so cosmetically half that building is in the past and the blue ‘half’ is facing the present it serves and the future it deserves: long may it do so. Moving on—
YESTERDAY IN TOWN
having collected our portable coffees from Global Bytes (give a plug where it’s due, I always say) I was struck by a resonance of feelings as I once again passed ol’ Beadle’s alleyway. Beadle is long dead I fear, but the current music purveyor is in business and long may he make his honest buck too (some bugger has to pay taxes and all the thriving marijuana farmers don’t) (I still don’t see why ‘they’ refuse to legalise Mary Jane—she would make ’em a fortune, and we once again might even get good ropes).
Anyway, second verse same as the first (for our halfies)—
AND JUST ALONG
the road … okay, set the scene: last century a wee mechanical genius named Burt Munro tinkered long and hard on his motorbike until eventually he could take it to the USA and establish a world record for scampering over the sands on a (wait for it~!) motorbike. Well done, that fan*.
A store was established by some brothers named Hayes. The store was named after them, and the surviving brother runs his large hardware etc store also as a kind of museum/shrine to Munro and other geniuses of his genre. So? So they are currently having a BIG sale, and part of the eye-catchers outside is balloons tied to every parking meter—
—some of which go POP~! when public spirited lout pokes ’em with a sharp doodah of some kind. Here I was taken by some brightly coloured balloons (deceased) on the sidewalk outside Hayes. Half red, half yellow and most of ’em defunct (louts are busy every night, Hayes enthusiastically out there each morning reloading the meters with fresh ‘loons. All good clean fun and keeps the balloonatics in business … aaaah, True Capitalism …
brekkie! The sun is climbing beyond yon eastern height, chasing the session of the stars from night etc etc yada yada ya …
* They made a movie about it starring Anthony Hopkins, called ‘The World’s Fastest Indian’ (no, Munro wasn’t from India—his bike was an Indian (marque))