Things sent to cheer us

Husband-and-wife comedians and commentators Jeremy Elwood and Michele A’Court share their views.

In a seemingly endless barrage of cyclones, #MeToo, road fatalities and international tensions, finding a bit of fun in the news can seem like a thankless task. It’s part of my job, but some weeks it’s a lot harder than I’d like it to be.

So in the interest of writing something a little lighter this week, allow me to point you at a couple of stories that caught my eye recently, and made me smile for very different reasons.

The first is out of Canada, specifically Quebec, where a group of medical professionals have been protesting a recent provincial government decision to give them a pay rise. Yes, you read that right, these doctors think they’re being paid too much, and they think the money would be better spent on increasing wages for nurses and other support staff, or generally improving the health system.

OK, to be fair it’s not every doctor in the province. There are around 10,000 of them, and at the time of writing only about 700-800 had signed the petition, plus, with an average salary of around $260,000 (NZ$278,000), Canadian physicians aren’t exactly struggling, but still, the principle is admirable. Can you imagine what we could achieve if CEOs, for example, turned down a bonus in favour of redistributing the wealth to the people who clean their offices, deliver their lunch, or teach their children? Surely that’s truly the trickle-down economics that we’ve been hearing about for all these years?

The other story that made me laugh came from the world of sport; semi-professional soccer, to be precise. A bloke named Sanchez Watt, who once played for Arsenal in the Premier League, is now seeing out the twilight of his career with Hemel Hempstead Town FC, in the sixth tier of English football.

During a recent game against the football powerhouse (I assume) that is East Thurrock, Sanchez found himself on the receiving end of a yellow card from the referee. The budgets at this level of the game don’t stretch to having players names on their jerseys, so the ref asked him his name, to which he replied: “Watt.” The ref asked him again, twice, and got the same reply: “Watt.”

Then he sent him off for dissent.

The incident was resolved when another player stepped in and explained that “Watt” was, indeed, the poor guy’s name, rather than a challenge to the official, but it immediately reminded me of, and made me rewatch, the classic Abbot and Costello “Who’s on First?” sketch.

It proves that comedy can still be found in amongst all the tragedy, even if you have to go to a small football ground on the other side of the planet to look for it.

It is possible to hold two apparently contradictory thoughts in your head, right? For example, I like autumn, but bloody hate the end of summer. Give me a minute and I know I will embrace the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness, but right now I’d like to freeze time and enjoy more sweaty days at the beach.

Auckland doesn’t do autumn well – wet and grey and tetchy like an old dog – so I’m pleased to have just spent a day or two in Ashburton where it was crisp and sharp, and more days in Wellington where, crikey, climate change has done wonders for the weather.

Both trips were for various International Women’s Day events, which now take a whole week. Good job, too – there’s plenty to talk about, celebrate, and debate.

It was uplifting to step away from arguments in the media about women, and just be with some – two hundred of them at a breakfast in Ashburton (when the feminist revolution starts, I’d put money on it kicking off in mid-Canterbury) and hundreds more at the Writers & Readers festival events on the other side of the Cook Strait.

I learned three things that made me immensely happy. First, on a visit to the National Library to see Kate Sheppard’s petition for women’s suffrage, it was explained that Kate stuck all the sheets of signatures into one long stream, rolled it up round a broom handle (my mother did something similar with brandy snap cases and a wooden spoon) and delivered the whole thing to parliament in a wheelbarrow. Good sort, that Kate.

Second, I happened upon a news story from Belgium about the first man to be convicted under their new law which prohibits sexism in public places. (Log that thought, sisters.) It seems the young perp was arrested by a female officer – initially for a traffic violation – and made remarks that brought her gender into play. Consequently, he was charged with “serious violation of the dignity of a person because of their gender” and fined the equivalent of several thousand dollars. If he doesn’t pay, he’ll go to prison. Imagine the chatter in the Big House after the inevitable: “So, what are you in for, mate?”

And third, I discovered my new favourite life hack. There is a rule that, should you have the opportunity to sleep in while staying at a hotel, the person who has had the room before you will have set the alarm clock for 6am. I managed to find the clock and hit all the buttons which only achieved “snooze”. Even unplugging it didn’t stop it shrieking at 10-minute intervals. So I put it in the fridge. Slept soundly till 8.30am. Freezing it isn’t possible, but “chill time” is a thing. You’re welcome.