Dialogue: Oops! I spilled my talcum powder

By ROANNE PARKER

I am glad that I am not on the board of New Zealand Post at the moment. I would imagine the chief financial officer has the calculator on full throttle as he or she descends into the realms of free-falling, worst-case-scenario cashflow projections.

It seems snail mail has morphed from the charmingly old-fashioned to the deadly. Is it just a coincidence that I bought my first designer talcum powder last week? I'm never one to enjoy being left out of anything, and now there is a suspicious trail of white powder all over the floor in the ensuite. I'm not sure who to tell, but I'm keeping a beady eye on it.

In a spate of cases in the United States three people have died, 11 others have been infected and thousands more have been tested or given medicine for the rare disease, many doses of which were no doubt unnecessary. But then if I was in those mail rooms, I'd be taking the drenching and scoffing the antibiotics, too. What a truly effective fearmongering device is bio-terrorism.

We have had our own scares around the country, happily unfounded, but still costly, disruptive and nerve-racking for all. A quick squizz around the internet turns up stories showing that health and postal authorities all over the world are inundated with reports of "suspicious powder".

The Times of India, noting hundreds of unfounded reports, had a headline with the best advice: "Relax, it could be just talcum powder". In Kansas, a woman called police to say anthrax had been dropped on her car from an aeroplane. It was bird droppings.

The American Express office in Bahrain called for help when someone found powder - powdered milk. A mail centre in England was evacuated after powder was found there. It was a lolly crushed by a sorting machine.

And in Ohio, a man called 911 after he found an envelope on his desk was full of powder ... left by his only employee as a joke. The employee was not only fired, but arrested: he faces 15 months in prison on felony charges of "inducing panic".

And more. Woman upset because she lives on Anthrax St. "Suspicious powder" turns out to be cremation ashes. German man calls police after he gets a package marked "gift" - which is German for "poison". White powder on baby-changing mat starts panic.

Airlines have responded to terrorist attacks with new security measures. Qantas cordoned off an airliner after a passenger spotted white powder - on a pastry included with his in-flight meal.

Meanwhile, Northwest Airlines has announced it will no longer serve powdered coffee creamer or artificial sweeteners with coffee to combat the fear of anthrax bio-terrorism.

"We did this to reduce the unnecessary delays and concern that false alarms relating to white powdery substances are causing our customers," says airline spokesman Kurt Ebenhoch. While passengers would still be allowed to bring their own sugar substitutes, "we'd rather they didn't".

Not only is it unfashionable to send letters, in some quarters it's apparently being banned altogether.

"We all want to stick to our routines and not give in to fear," announced Jane Amari, editor and publisher of the Arizona Daily Star newspaper. However, she adds, the paper has decided it would be "prudent" to "reduce the volume of mail we receive in envelopes and boxes".

And how might they do that? Effective immediately, the paper will no longer accept letters to the editor through the mail. E-mails and faxes are fine, but paper letters are accepted only if delivered by hand - and only if they're not in an envelope.

Which flags up another quote in my inbox: "The 21st-century egotist is someone who thinks he or she is important enough to be a target."

An old cynic like me has no problem stating that New Zealand is hardly a zit on the world's backside, and we flatter ourselves if we think anyone cares enough to bother wiping out any of us. In any case, they needn't bother. If I were sizing us up as a target, I might well conclude that we are doing a fine job of wiping ourselves out, and just leave us to it.

The furore last week about the proposed day of shame for men had anger leaching from all over the city. Let's stop protesting our own innocence and redirect our fury into a declaration of war against domestic terrorism. It might not be your own family, but it's our future.

It's been said before but I don't know if you were listening - we need action to protect Kiwi kids from lives of horror to stop the cycle of abuse. We could start by writing to Parliament to demand we get the national register for the notification of abuse up and running.

Sorry, NZ Post, but all things considered, e-mail is probably best.