I've never been very impressed by the gongs bestowed by an ageing tribal queen from her river Kingdom in London. To run around calling yourself a Sir or a Knight in Remuera seems worthy of an entire Monty Python skit and rather pointless without a horse or a decent sword. Once, taking phone bookings for a new restaurant over 20 years ago I sent Sir Bob Jones' new bit into hyperventilating status anxiety by refusing to use his title. "Sir Bob Jones likes to be away from the door," she said. "Right. So that's a quiet table for ... Bob." Her: "That's Sir Bob Jones ... yes and it's a table for two for Sir Bob Jones."
Me: "Got it So that's a quiet table for two for ... Bob." It would have gone on for hours if the owner hadn't walked in. The New Year's honours system, although many worthy people have been recipients, never quite recovered from that unfortunate phase in the eighties. You know the one - when bankers were God's handmaidens and Ruth Richardson seemed to be forever auditioning for a place in a Split Enz video with her hair. It was a time when globalisation still had the potential to be more than the glorification of international oligarchies and monopolies.
Before people realised that "level playing field" meant bulldozing any of the domestic competition out of the way. It was a time when people still believed that the trickle down theory might be something better than being peed on from above. And the gongs went to the robber barons; the privateers and courtesan eunuchs in the court of "free" market politics. A list of those who refused them would make interesting reading of the free-thinkers and dissenters of the time. Aunty Helen got rid of the gongs as a sign of old cronyism and colonial silliness. Key brought them right back. I hope the river Queen's moko thanks him while they're here.
A better acknowledgement of true nobility in our corner of the global forest; is the Kiwibank New Zealander of the Year awards. Perhaps adversity does produce brilliance because in Northland we've got our share of gems. Milan Ruka - with his tireless fight for the health of Northland's waterways - continues to be one of our treasured citizens for his work. His legacy will not sit in trust funds for his direct descendants, but will benefit us all.
Lance O'Sullivan has done it again. The Kaitaia GP is a nobleman in the French manner of "noblesse oblige", his ability to side-step bureaucracy and barriers to achieving a healthier community has meant for the 200 days that kids attend the schools his clinics serve, they are effectively lifted out of the health disadvantages of poverty. Mr Key appeared slightly uncomfortable standing next to him at the awards ceremony - they come from very different traditions. Dr O'Sullivan is indeed a nobleman of our times and richly deserves the recognition. I'm not sure what it says of the strength of a democracy, however, when it has become dependent on renegade heroes to save the community it is supposed to serve.
