I cast my mind back to the days when I worked as a labourer, and when the pay officer would come around on the Friday afternoon with a tray which had rows of slots embedded in it.
In each slot was a small brown envelope with the name of the recipient on it.
It contained cash.
Folding stuff. Lolly.
The Queen's face.
Work, of course, would immediately halt as the lads all tore their envelopes open, like excited children on Christmas Day. Just to fondle and caress the notes. If you'd done a bit of overtime you'd maybe have seven or eight $20 notes in there ... riches beyond belief.
And so it would come to pass that after work a few of the lads would depart for the corner of the local pub and get a poker school up and running.
On one occasion one of the boys pretty well lost his week's wages.
His wife was arriving to pick him up in a few minutes ... "could I borrow a fiver?" he asked ... of about 25 people.
Apart from his idiot card folly he was an okay sort, so we helped him out, and bless him he did eventually see everyone right, although it took him about a year.
Cash in pocket is dangerous.
For many of the blokes back then it was just too accessible ... too alluring.
They'd hit a few top shelf snorts and line up jugs as chasers, and by the following Wednesday would be down to having two seven-ounce lagers then heading for the door ... frowning and counting what little cash they had left for lunch tomorrow. So, full credit to automatic direct-to-the-bank-account wages.
It must surely save a few bob on pay day in the long run.
Direct credit is part of the "evil" system which saw half of Europe march through the streets in anti-capitalism protests last week, with breakaway groups leaving flames and violence behind them ... while here in Worldcupsville it led to a group of people who appeared to come from a crop circle convention taking up frugal residence in Civic Square in Wellington.
How could they do that?
How were they going to watch the Rugby World Cup final?
This sit-in action was part of the global highlighting of "corporate greed" as well as government-imposed austerity measures as their economies floundered.
Which I figured was rather odd, especially as the most violent clashes erupted in Italy ... where, like Greece and Ireland and Spain, only the substantial loans from the World Bank appeared to be keeping them afloat.
As is often the way of things, a "breakaway" group sparked the mayhem in the streets of Rome after what had initially been a peaceful protest against global banking and whatever.
And what did the lunatics target?
Banks ... sort of.
They attacked and wrecked ATM machines, no doubt carrying out their own corrupt banking practices ... I daresay along the lines of withdrawals.
Why don't they just get a job?
They could always find one where they still pay it out in cash in little brown envelopes and that way have some social fun on pay night too.
Down here, at the bottom of the world, we have a lot to be grateful and thankful for.
While the hordes of the north wreck their streets and property and create more financial stress for their already strapped commercial infrastructures, we gather in small good old-style hippy camps and eat donated fruit and sing songs, and sit in circles and smile.
While it's no way to earn a living and it won't change global capitalism and whatever, it is all rather splendid.
As long as no one gives them any cash ... they'll start playing poker and believe me, all hell will break loose.
*Roger Moroney is an award-winning journalist for Hawke's Bay Today and observer of the slightly off-centre.
