Diana Wichtel: We barely need an election at all

What's that sound on the election year air? Possibly the Opposition's wheels spinning as it struggles to gain any traction against the juggernaut that is Helen Clark as she powers inexorably over them towards another term.

At this point, it's hard to see what could possibly bring her down. It won't be alcohol. There will be no slurred, late-night snap-election announcements from her.

Lord knows there won't be any Clintonesque sexual indiscretions, even if talkback host Pam Corkery described the Prime Minister after her meeting with Dubya as looking positively "post-coital".

At the moment it seems that the most her opponents can find to threaten us with is that our leader will finally go too far and take one mad, impulsive kayaking trip too many.

The PM takes five days out to present an episode of a doco series in which world leaders promote the beauty of their countries. And this is a bad thing because ... ?

I still don't get it, despite a lot of hurrumphing from Murray McCully and editorial writers. Yes, this is election year.

Clearly, she's wasting time that could be better spent kissing babies.

True, as Clark was climbing every mountain, fording every stream and generally paddling while Rome burned, her Coalition partner was busy jumping wakas. Or, more technically, dismantling one waka and cobbling together two leaky kayaks. The Discovery channel should make a programme about it.

But distancing herself from her Coalition partner was probably the smartest thing she could have done in the very dumb circumstances. As everything hit the fan she was well out of range, posing on a pristine mountainside or waving from the icy, cleansing waters of the Shotover.

Even her own people saw the funny side. Michael Cullen, asked whether the Government was considering an early election in response to the antics of the Alliance, quipped: "The Government is skiing at the moment, or mountain climbing."

Why shouldn't the Government enjoy herself a little? Though that may be the problem. The Government looks like she's enjoying herself a bit too much. What's the point of having politicians if we can't watch them suffer?

Most, however bright-eyed and bushy-tailed they are when they enter the higher levels of political life, soon start looking pasty, frayed and in need of a stiff drink. Clark looks fit as a fiddle and in need of a kayak.

She's also intelligent, which makes a nice change. Her competitive edge has remained unblunted by the friction of life at the top. Though she's had to learn that, while competition is a good thing, it's not strictly necessary to try to race the Queen when sitting down to a banquet.

Even her inconsistencies are oddly consistent. She's confident enough to wear pants to an absurd royal banquet, yet pragmatic enough to climb into a skirt for the "sombre" occasion of the Queen Mother's funeral.

On the downside, there were those gratuitous appearances on Lowie's Barbie, Strassman and anyone else who'd have her. And she's a bit of a one-man band and a legendary control freak. But with enemies like she has, she scarcely needs friends.

Into the debate about the desirability of having Action Barbie as Prime Minister stumbled National's Marie Hasler. She took exception to Clark's comment that she wasn't going to bungy in case she ended up with "a detached retina or anything like that for election year".

Hasler, outraged on behalf of action adventure lunatics everywhere, did some research and found that bungy jumping is a retina-friendly activity. "Comments such as this, without facts to back them up," she fumed, "are damaging and misleading to our tourism industry." Too right. We wouldn't want to damage and mislead the very industry National was criticising Clark for promoting in the first place.

Then there's Mild Bill English. Even when the media come to praise the hazy construct that is the Leader of the Opposition, the results often read like one of those "must do better" report cards. There was a pro-Bill piece in the latest Metro magazine, hilariously entitled "Why Bill English Can Still Win". The gist seemed to be that Bill is a bit of a dark horse, a man not to be underestimated.

Yet the story went on to improve Bill's chances on the campaign trail by comparing him to Mr Bean, reporting that he can sound "moronic" at a press conference and invoking his image in some quarters as a hayseed, a hick and a bumpkin. And this counts as good press for the Misunderestimated Man of New Zealand politics. The story didn't report whether he likes pretzels.

Never mind a snap election. Barring more cock-ups of Air New Zealand proportions, Jim Anderton having more good ideas, or some emergency personality transplants in the National Party, we barely need to hold an election at all.

When I was at university, a friend of mine used to flat with Clark. But in my memories of the future PM, she lived behind a table in the Quad, gazing fiercely out into the future from behind a curtain of hippy hair and great, teetering piles of Labour Party pamphlets. She was nice and a little scary. There was no misunderestimating her, even then.