The other day I was out driving looking for a Trade Me address to gather another buy.
Admittedly I do not leave my enclave often though for this deal I was more than happy to do so – a hard metal 3 drawer filing cabinet for $10 – great runners, solid and had many file partitions – Deal. I find it funny that because the drawer came without a key it was apparently worth less than other filing cabinets for sale. I saw other trades go the same way though not as good as the deal I got. I find it funny in that I have been opening these locks with paper clips for years – I may be a bit out of practice though I know I can lock and unlock these drawers with no ‘official’ key.
But back to the travelling.
I had turned off the motorway and was driving down Greenlane towards One Tree Hill and saw this sign –
“No walking on this side of the road – please pass to the other side with refuge”.
Please pass with refuge?
The first thing I thought of was that should I have been using Shanks Pony and had to cross the road I may have had to look for the relatively well known band ‘The Fugee’s’ and ask them to aid me in perambulating to the side more travelled - apparently. Then I recalled their lead female singer lost the plot and in recording sessions demanded to be called “Queen”. I somehow don’t think she was anywhere near the look-a-like for Freddy Mercury nor Her Royal Highness though obviously something and somewhere in that Gray Matter was a neuron out of control and hence probably not the best person for advice in crossing the road.
So the next item on the agenda was perhaps to find a real Refugee.
The problem is that in my line of work the only refugee’s I know are either real or proposed criminals (remanded) and generally not trustworthy enough to sell Girl Guide biscuits to the community at large let alone to give one of them responsibility for ones safety re the road and negotiating it.
So again, there I was driving down the wide road wondering how to cross it safely.
Perhaps as a chicken stapled to a refugee?
Hannah was with me and heard my rambling thoughts out loud, well at least I thought they were out loud and she asked what the words ‘refuge’ and ‘refugee’ was all about. I commenced on a ramble about loss of jobs for NZ’s, lax immigration laws and schedules, the lack of balls politicians’ have and the PC world we live in which on one hand ascribes rights to those allegedly disadvantaged/disenfranchised/marginalized and then on the other hand absolves them of any responsibility.
I also talked of the need to ‘take care’ with spelling and taking ones medication as charted.
“So how do we cross the road safely then” she asked, naturally getting to the heart of the matter.