New Boots and President!!

The strange title for this post derives from an old Ian Dury album that I was listening to the other day, a classic of the late 70s when I was photographing musicians of that era and genre in London. 'New Boots' ? Well I got new rugged sandals as it's summer here, Eh! and getting up and down Mount Victoria in floppy sandals is a sure route to ankle damage and pain I reckon.

'New President' shouldn't need explaining and I'm sure most people reading this will have been watching Obama kicking off his term of office on TV. Not me though, due to the time difference mainly, power outage (which will delay the publication of this post) and 'hangover' from having to deal with rather silly personal accounting things late last night. Loved ones at home reported two bills having arrived in Finland for items that I am not liable. Apart from the fact that it is incredible that a large company selling new motor vehicles (no names) like our new Citroën should be able to generate incorrect billing to its customers, trying to deal with this over the phone with an 11 hour time difference almost brought me to the point of despair. Efforts of the company's central telephone exchange to connect me to anyone who could deal with my problems led six times to the familiar recorded message in three languages, 'Sorry, the person you want to reach is speaking on the phone. Please hold...' Hmm, 'holding' indefinitely at eleven in the evening from New Zealand could be an expensive business, and so, thank goodness for Skype. Eventually matters progressed, 'Can I get them to call you back a bit later today?', asked the receptionist. Oh, the irony of it all! Anyway, it got sorted in the end by bypassing the central switchboard and dealing with somebody with far better service skills. Time to move on, if only I could, as I'm still waiting on power for the ADSL.

Writing the start of this post the electricity here went out, well and truly. Power tools at the house renovation a few doors away have silenced and I can enjoy the early morn to the sounds of birds and crickets instead. Think positive!

To be honest, the highlight of yesterday's 'new things for me here in New Zealand' was having a haircut at a gentlemen's barbers in town, just off the popular commercial street, Lambton Quay. I don't particularly like going to the barbers, at least in Finland. My experience there is that the girls cutting your hair abide by the same rule as most Finnish taxi drivers and don't speak unless spoken to. And they are not, anyway, particularly blessed with the gift of the gab. My other grudge is that they never seem to cut enough length off my hair, even if given strict instructions. It's clearly a ploy to get you back in their styling seat sooner rather than later. Better for business. My positive experiences of barbers stem from early youth in Harry's the barbers in Ilford High Road over 45 years ago. It was an old style working men's place selling haircuts (providing it was short back & sides), hair oil and condoms, and an education in English men's small talk for my brother Stu and I whenever my Dad took us there - which was once a month! Dad and Harry were the same age and as one of Harry's first customers after setting up the shop he remained a loyal customer there for about 50 years, until Harry closed it.

Yesterday, in the Diplomat men's hairdressers, there was no stopping the conversation or the rapid movement of the scissors and comb, and that is exactly what I'd imagined it would be like when I'd first spotted the shop soon after arriving here. One lady barber, one well used barber's chair and a constant stream of customers. The hundreds of postcards from every imaginable corner of the globe decorating the shop interior were surely a sign of allegiance, appreciation and respect. Service with a smile, wit and rapid scissors. Neither did 'Pam' (I didn't actually catch her name but this guess gives me a 50/50 chance) hesitate to answer the phone when it rang, and she knew immediately who was calling, seemingly having first name terms with all her regular, holiday postcard sending customers. No point for an answering service here, 'Sorry the person you are trying to reach is cutting someone else's hair, please try again later...'

A good day; new and improved shoes, new and improved US president, new and improved hair. In the words of the dear, departed Mr Dury, 'Reasons to be cheerful, 1, 2, 3'.