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21 December 2006

A weekly column published in the ‘Sunday Star-Times'

PEOPLE OF THE YEAR

It has been one of those years. A representation of human endeavour in so many ways … in other words, irredeemably messy.

Nothing as clean as it is in movies or books; nothing as clinical as a Dan Carter conversion or a Don Brash execution. Just our usual condition – a succession of petty triumphs and tribulations interspersed with the usual omigod moments.

That said, I confirmed my membership, this year, of that harassed group of broken sleepers known as the parents of toddlers. For some strange reason, I'm not interested in the big questions anymore – whether humankind is progressing or regressing, whether God has a plan, or when the universe will contract again down some blasted black hole.

I just want to know when I'll sleep again. Find the energy to have sex again. Find out why so much inorganic stuff gets extruded from my child when only organic stuff goes in. Answer those mysteries, and I'll expire a happy man.

Which is why nominating my ‘Person of the Year’ is harder.

Because although I accept that paraplegics climbing Everest are laudable, I’m not sure it rates against the solo mum who tends to three pre-schoolers. That while the All Blacks were awesome, the fuller achievement was surely the geriatric who beat off his teenage attacker. And while Robert Sarkies didn’t screw up his film version of the Aramoana massacre, the most sensitive performance, surely, had to be the guy who resuscitated a stunned sparrow by breathing in its nostrils.

And yet there were some stand-out stunners in 2006 – people who will forever be associated with the year, the mood, and the times.

Like parliamentary messenger Michael Ryan - who only sought to do a mate at Telecom a favour and ended up unbundling the whole company. It was the kind of reverse strike later perfected by Nicky Hagar – altruistically assuring that the National party ended up much stronger courtesy of his ‘'Hollow Men' expose.

Mind you, it wasn't a bad conspiracy theory that the left wing activist wove. Except it will ultimately trap Hagar too. The bigger scandal is actually the Watergate-style break-in of Brash's files. And no, no-one believes it was a Bay of Plenty businessman with Reserve Bank envy. That claim was just Richard Prebble going through recognition withdrawal.

Which means political stir of 2007 is already in the making. The sleuthing of the saboteurs. No wonder Winston and Michael Cullen assumed the mute response in the weeks leading up to Hagar's release.

Indeed this was a year for vile silence. From Star Waru to the Kahui twins to little Sarah Woodcock-Haydock – tiny children allegedly killed by one of their parents but protected by their combined muteness. Sadly, this will also be a theme repeated in 2007. Stay mum, and watch the Police wallow in their impotence.

Contrast with the UK, where you can pull in two separate suspects in the Ipswich Ripper case and keep them on ice for days. One day New Zealand will join the civilized world of criminal investigation but not any time soon. Either that or introduce everyone's favourite toy of 2006 - the Taser - during routine interrogation.

Yeah but for all our petty trials and tribulations, some Kiwis had genuine annus horribilis. You could start with Brent Todd and just keep trending down. Not that I think the former leaguie is necessarily a bad boy. Bankruptcy could happen to anyone. Ditto being publicly humiliated for not purchasing any drugs. But get the SFO on your tail and an average 2006 could easily turn into a crap 2007.

Then again if you're going to be apprehended by any arm of the law, then the SFO would be your chosen apprehenders. Their win-loss record is equaled only by the New Zealand Knights. 

Others who will feel that 2006 was hardly fair include Don Brash, Je Lan and Diane Foreman. Although whatever you say about Don, you can't fault his taste in the ladies.

Similarly Mark Inglis was expecting to bathe in post-Everest triumph only to be remembered for his Good Samaritan negation. Initially, I was as censorious as the next nonentity, until trying to imagine my conscience at 25,000 feet. Too bad they don't have loose women at that altitude.

Then there were media personalities who suffered non-stellar years. Susan Wood, who opted to turn a benign tumour into a swan dive.  Jeremy Wells, who regressed from Newsboy to Rentboy, while Michael Barrymore discovered an even lower form of life than the Dannevirke Business Awards' UK's ‘'Celebrity Big Brother'.  

And what of Tim Shadbolt? He wrote off the mayoral car and got convicted but that was just the double. The trifecta was boasting that his mates were calling him ‘'Jake the Muss', after his ex-missus publicly busted him for dusting her once too often.

While it was also a year to pity all the poor buggers in the country who had the surname Kahui. Or Awatere-Huata. Or Field. Proof that distant relatives can ruin it for you, and forever.

But my ‘'Person of the Year’' is obvious.

A symbol that no matter what life, or your relatives may throw at you, that you will eventually endure. Young Jayden Headley is my hero of 2006. Kidnapped by his addled granddad, while his mum remains banged up in prison, the wee boy has endured the Twilight Zone these past four months.

If anyone deserves Christmas, then it's Jayden. He will never deserve the madness that is his Headley/Skilton heritage. But he will deserve the hope that 2007 brings him. And the chance to discover a Dad for so long denied him.

Merry Christmas, little man. You'll be home soon.

ENDS