Bogan heritage

The following is an extract from an email from my Mum earlier this year. And you wonder why I’m a bogan:

Yellowknife Bogans

It has been all go here at the Redbrick.  Last night a farewell BBQ for Lou.  John had done hay at Noels and rang for ride home….

Anyway Kevin took me out in his TR and gave me a thrill on the Victoria Rd straight at 170 KMs he knows I love speed so I had my night made great fun John didn’t seem to appreciate the return ride.  I drove the ute home so thought of you James as I laid some rubber on the metal drive and gave the hay gang a thrill.  Must say I was pleased I didn’t break an axle with an audience. 

Lots of love, Mum xxx

Dear Santa

A letter my Mum kept from when I was a young whipper snapper:

Class clown

 

 

Dear Santa.

For Christmas can I please have a car it is a porche and can I please have it remote control and some trucks the same.

And can I please have a tool-set I saw at toy-land. Could I please have some match box toys. And could I please have a worker mans hat.

If you can get me any more things can you please get me a bit of the A. Team.

And I think that is enough but if that is not enough can you please get me anything you want to get me.

Thank-you. Love James Kilbride.

Bruntwood RD1 Cambridge.

Oh, the poor North American car manufacturers

I feel so sorry for them for not getting that $14 Billion bailout from the government.

Not.

Aren’t they the same guys that subscribe to the age old capitalist theory of “leave it to the market”? Um, hello has this theory changed since I studied economics to “leave it to the market until we realise that we should’ve adapted with the market and now want a massive blank cheque from the government”?

And aren’t these the same guys that (along with their oil cronies) have historically quashed any independent companies/individuals who’ve developed more energy efficient vehicles/types of fuel?

But I’m not here to rave about economics and conspiracy theories – what about the environment?

I’m no tree hugging hippie. As a former (okay, at least slightly reformed) bogan with an engineering trade behind me, I consider myself to be somewhat pragmatic.

Pragmatists consider practical consequences or real effects to be vital components of both meaning and truth.

On this note I have very real and sincere sympathy for the thousands of workers who will have their livelihoods jeopardised as a result of the current “economic crisis”. But what about the environment – the thing that supports everyones livelihood?

I was somewhat bewildered when I turned on the radio on Friday morning to hear CBC North’s top story about the US Senates decision to not give the US automakers a massive bailout package. Because while this is obviously big news and has huge implications, what about the locally topical story which followed about the Alberta Oils Sands environmental effects, and the story that followed this about a recent study in the Arctic indicating more drastic effects of climate change than previously thought.

As I sometimes tell people, the reason I chose to study environmental management was because I had an environmental epiphany while trekking in the breath-taking Himalayas, back in 2001. And as my knowledge of environmental issues grew I became increasingly aware of the often intrinsic relationship between the environment and economics. A few examples are the decreasing viability of recycling programmes when the market for them falls through the floor, or the viability of alternative energy programmes when the demand and/or  cost of oil decreases.

Or, for a more specific example: Canadian Environment Minister Jim Prentice said the government’s decision to not send one of Canada’s leading scientists to the international climate talks wrapping up in Poland on Friday was financial, not political.

So while the world slides into a perilous “economic crisis” maybe our environment will have a minor respite from our plundering of it.

Parochialism part II

Canada and New Zealand have surprisingly similar histories. Both had English and French colonists vying for these “new” lands, both were colonised in a the same era, and we both shafted the local aboringinal cultures already inhabiting these “new” lands.

New Zealand had the Treaty of Waitangi signed in 1840, in 1841, Lower Canada (now Quebec) and Upper Canada (now Ontario) joined to form the Province of Canada.

Kiwi’s have rugby, Canadians have hockey. Canada is a shit load larger than New Zealand (about 35 times bigger!), and Canadians speak with funny accents. So we have a few differences.

While living in Vancouver I was surprised at the animosity of Vancouverites towards the frenchies in central government on the other side of this massive country. Animosity maybe a slightly strong word, but my point is, British Columbia doesn’t seem to have a strong sense of loyalty with the jokers pulling the strings in the French speaking locale of the central (federal) government.

I think part of it is because Canada is so fricken massive. What would the geezers on the east coast know about what’s best for those on the west? Calgary seems to have a very similar relationship – ingrained I imagine as a result of the National Energy Program (NEP) introduced in the wake of the energy crises of the 1970s. In a nutshell:

By keeping domestic oil prices below world market prices, the NEP was essentially mandating provincial generosity and subsidizing all Canadian consumers of fuel, primarily at Alberta’s expense!

And guess what – Yellowknife is no different. To make matters worse Yellowknife is the capital of a “territory” and not a province (heaven forbid – don’t called any of them states!). In effect, a province like BC can amend some legislation to “improve” (we’ll give them the benefit of the doubt), or at least change how things work – public transport for example. No big deal, provincial government will run it through much like a Regional Council would do in New Zealand. But the poor old territories’s don’t have it quite so easy.

So that’s it kids. Parochialism and some history all rolled into one, now I should venture out in the sub arctic environment to go grocery shopping.

The Fridge outside the NWT legislative assembly building

Parochialism

You can choose your friends but you can’t choose your family, and you can’t choose where you come from.

I have a fantastic group of friends, am fortunate to get on really well with my family and I’m proud to be from New Zealand.

Jimmy K, Jimmy the One, Jim the Fridge, Killa Kilbride or just James to my friends, I identify with all names which stem from different times and contexts.

Kilbride – my surname since birth. Does it define me? Well, in part I think it may. In certain parts of the Waikato and King Country it certainly does: “Ah, Kilbride eh, you Paddy’s brother?”.  ”Ah, Kilbride eh, you Dave’s brother?”.  ”Ah, Kilbride eh, you Killa’s young fella?”.  Or even in Nepal: ”Kilbride? You’re not Jo’s brother are ya?”.  

New Zealander’s are renowned for their modesty (a trait I don’t ascribe to – just ask my whanau) and have long sucumed to the tall poppy syndrome. For example, most bands in New Zealand often don’t do well at home until they’ve gone overseas and made it big. At which point, Kiwi’s let out a collective: “hmm, the Aussies/Poms/Americans seem to like them, they must be alright”. The Flight of the Conchords is a prime example of this.

While the tall poppy syndrome still happens, I think it’s apparent that Kiwi’s have finally overcome the historical “chip on our colonised shoulders”. Kitch Kiwi culture has made a huge resurgance in recent years and I think that’s great.

I’m proud to be a Kiwi.

On a more local level the Chiefs might not be the best Super 14 team – but hey, I’m from the Waikato, I support the Chiefs. It’s not rocket science. As a kid growing up on a farm in the Waikato, hating Aucklanders was ingrained in me from a young age – reinforced by their dominance of the then NPC and Ranfurly Shield.

When I finally moved to Auckland to start my apprenticeship I was the butt of many  a workshop joke about the country hick from the Waikato. And since leaving NZ and then returning to live, work and study in Hamilton, Christchurch and finally Wellington, in my humble opinion, parochialism is strongest in small towns (including Christchurch – damn those one eyed Cantabrians and their consistently good rugby team!). 

Excluding the half of Kiwi’s that live south of the Bombay Hills who hate Aucklanders and/or Auckland, parochialism in New Zealand is generally centers around sport. And by “sport” in New Zealand, I mean rugby.

Captain Jimmy and Cook statue, bro