Committee chairman Kees Tapine (left) and committee member Harry Berryman with the Taradale Spirit of Anzac committee, before the tagging. Photo / Paul Taylor
Committee chairman Kees Tapine (left) and committee member Harry Berryman with the Taradale Spirit of Anzac committee, before the tagging. Photo / Paul Taylor
Anti-social behaviour abounds and I don't understand why.
I've never respected authority and could give a hoot about manners.
The idea that I'm lesser than someone else, and therefore have to bow and scrape before them, utterly appals me.
That doesn't mean behaving like an arse, although it's fair tosay I have done.
I've had very early starts the last two Sundays and had to swerve round numerous broken bottles that some champion - or group of champions - have biffed out of car windows.
I go to the supermarket and invariably find a bloke in a gang patch sauntering up the aisle.
Hamish Bidwell: ''When we tolerate the tosser who tags our fence ... we allow people to believe that certain behaviour is okay.''
But they're just minor irritations and acts of stupidity compared to the vandalism of the Taradale war memorial last week.
All acts of vandalism are low. They're immature and pathetic and a cry for help, but this was something else.
In an increasingly divided society, Anzac Day and its symbols - such as the World War I memorial in Taradale - are among the few things we're united on.
Whether we attend dawn services, or are simply there in spirit, we all recognise the significance of the occasion.
Last year, for instance, we observed Anzac Day from the front gate, as many of our neighbours did.
Sure, it was awkward having people stand on the opposite footpath that you can't stand and don't talk to, but Anzac Day is about more than us.
My great grandfather fought in France and Belgium in the great war and lived to a ripe old age. The playing of The Last Post at his funeral remains one of the most affecting moments of my life.
I'll never forget the other servicemen, from varying vintages and campaigns, who went up to salute the coffin before we carried it out.
I might not be big on convention, but there was a lot to admire about that.
But I don't admire boy racers. I don't admire taggers and I definitely don't admire people who seek to intimidate others.
The day that the desecration of a site, such as a war memorial, becomes a good idea, is the day we've all gone wrong. The day that shows we've failed each other and allowed alien ideas to take hold.
You'd have to be pretty dislocated from society and reality to conjure up a scheme like that.
But that's our fault.
When we tolerate the tosser who tags our fence, when we sweep up the shards of some bottle that's been thrown from a car and when not wearing a face mask is more antisocial than wearing a gang patch, then we allow people to believe that certain behaviour is okay.
That you can do things that offend and upset us, but that we'll be too polite or frightened to say so.
