James Griffin: Final word

Opinion

I'm confused. This is not an unusual state of affairs, I must confess, but in this case my confusion runs deeper than usual and it is troubling me and keeping me awake at night.

The source of my confusion and my sleeplessness is the current television ad promoting Auckland as a "big little city" and the massive philosophical conundrum it poses me; the one which goes along the lines of: how can Auckland be simultaneously super and little?

Surely the two things — being both super and little at the same time — are mutually exclusive? And, come to think of it, just what is a "big little city"? Surely if a city is both big and little then it must be kind of medium-sized. But I guess "Auckland: Medium-sized City" isn't really a catchphrase to match "Absolutely Positively Wellington" or even "Hamilton: More Than You Expect".

Just to recap, for those who haven't seen the TV ad, the "big little city" thing is the Heart of Auckland advertising campaign featuring an old guy on a bike riding through the streets of downtown Auckland at night.

Instead of being full of drunken youths fighting and vomiting in rubbish tins, the streets in this version of the CBD are full of celebrities going about their nightly business. Boh Runga has popped back from LA to grab a burger from the White Lady because God knows you can't get a hamburger anywhere in the United States.

Denise L'Estrange-Corbet is out taking a rack of clothes for a walk, which is good because the clothes can get some fresh air and exercise after hanging round the shop all day. Meanwhile, chef Peter Gordon is down at the wharves checking out which endangered fish species he'll serve up to all the advertising executives who will dine at Dine that night.

Anyway, it turns out in the TV ad that the old bloke on the bike is not one of Auckland's bewildered itinerant population or even a crazed cycling activist hankering to pedal across the harbour bridge. He is, apparently, the bloke who unlocks the gates to the heart of Auckland every morning.

Now I wasn't aware, up to now, that the Auckland CBD was, in fact, a gated community but I guess the gates come in handy for keeping out the South Auckland criminals who might be tempted to detour into the inner city to commit crime on their way to West Auckland by way of Mt Albert.

Yes, I am aware that I may be over-analysing this just a tad. It is, after all, a TV commercial and therefore not required to make sense. It is designed to be alluring and appealing, and to attract people to come into Auckland to shop or possibly to go cycling at night. It is a fantasy representation of inner-city Auckland where it doesn't take hours to find a carpark or a carparking building that isn't falling down around your ears, and when you do eventually park in a carparking building it doesn't cost you an arm and a leg.

All of which explains why there is a bicycle in the ad, I suppose. None of which gets me any closer to solving my Supercity/little city conundrum. Is it possible there are forces working in opposition when it comes to defining our great/not-so-great city? Surely something of that ilk, where the public is being presented with completely diverging views of what Auckland is/should be, would never happen in the City of Sails/sales. Would it? Maybe it will help alleviate my consternation levels and reset my sleep patterns once I've fully got my head round the whole big/little concept.

Theoretically this shouldn't be too hard because, as an Aucklander, all I have to think about to understand how big and little can co-exist in the same space are the Blues and the Warriors: big expectations/little to show for it. Those guys have been pulling off that trick for years now, why can't we apply it to the city as a whole? Yeah, if you dress it up in the uniform of inevitable disappointment, it all starts to make sense. And actually, if pushbike comes to shove, I quite like the idea of a magical Auckland, where an old codger on a bike makes magical things happen while I lie awake worrying about stupid stuff.

Magical things like turning Aotea Square into a pleasing public space; or making the waterfront accessible and beautiful for the citizens. Now all I need to figure out is whether the gates are to keep the invaders out or the inmates in.