The classic WIND UP
Jeremy’s daughter drives him car-azy jealous with talk of the hottest wheels at school
Every weekday I walk with my daughter to her new school. She doesn’t want to walk, I don’t want to walk, but both our negative energies are more than compensated for by the ridiculously positive walk energy of our dog Cookie.
So we set off, being dragged by our canine, working through the stages of walking grief, until we settle on acceptance and start to talk.
As any parent will know, these can be great bonding times. I love 11-year-old’s chat – their random thoughts, stories about friends, unfiltered questions and often incomprehensible explanations about things that happened at school.
This morning, she pointed out a car on the side of the road and suggested it was the same as her friend’s. My heart sank. Sure, it was the same make, but it was a completely different model. Couldn’t she see the difference?
I realised it would ruin the moment if I corrected her. But I did. I can’t have a daughter of mine not knowing the difference between the Mazda CX-9 and the Mazda 6.
Luckily, she was unfazed by my pedantry because she had something more important to tell me: her friend’s dad had another car. A car that was really cool.
My heckles rose. In my mind, I imagined some show-pony dad trying to one-up me with his flash automobile. A “cool” dad letting my daughter know she’d been born into a lesser family: she’d missed out in the lottery of life, her friend had won. Their car was superior.
“Oh really?” I said with more sarcasm and jealousy bubbling to the surface than I had intended.
She didn’t notice because she was in the thrall of this wonder car and couldn’t wait to rub my nose in my automotive shortcomings. “It has these really cool buttons for the windows!” she innocently imparted.
What ostentatious controls could they be, I wondered?
Some sort of fingerprint recognition switches? Voiceactivated with stitched leather upholstery, pre-warmed to body temperature. What?
I simply wasn’t aware of a more impressive window button than the one our own car possessed. So advanced was this luxury, I couldn’t even imagine it.
I was devastated. I was no match for this father. I had lost my daughter.
I sensed she was about to elaborate. I steeled myself for more crushing news on this dream dad and his futuristic window knobs.
“Yeah, it’s like a handle that you wind around!” she said, as she mimed the action, re-living her excitement.
My relief was so palpable, a laugh leaped out. My daughter turned to me grinning wildly, thinking my laugh had been an expression of amazement.
She mimed the action again to share with me the joy. I mimed along, laughing.
I was a happy dad once again. Which was tempered somewhat by the realisation that I was so old, the technology I grew up with was now a complete novelty to the new generation.
I can’t wait to tell her about a pedal called the clutch.
My heckles rose. I imagined some showpony dad trying to one-up me with his flash auto
You look lovely,” said a complete stranger as I fossicked for my car keys in my handbag. “Thank you very much,” I replied, surprised and delighted.
But to be fair, I had just left the hairdresser’s, where my frizzy mop of hair had been tamed and styled for the first time in what felt like years, and where my make-up had been expertly applied.
I was on my way to MC my first awards evening in 18 months and I’d forgotten how good it felt to be transformed from ordinary Kerre to glam Kerre. I was dressed to the nines in a glittery, sequinned dress, I had squeezed my tootsies into high heels – I even had a bra on. It was a red-letter day.
Pre-pandemic, I used to host an awards evening a month, and they were always such fun and fabulous events. People within their own businesses and industries coming together to celebrate the very best in their fields. The function centres were full of happy and positive people, who made things happen. It was impossible not to get caught up in the atmosphere and I invariably left the evenings feeling buoyed up myself.
These sorts of functions are a great counterbalance to my day job on the radio. I love talkback, but it can sometimes focus on the negative; what’s going wrong rather than celebrating all that is right. These times of Covid have been particularly trying. And there hasn’t been the opportunity to let off steam because of the lockdown rules.
Under the different trafficlight settings and the rules around how many people can gather under one roof, it’s been difficult for people to organise any kind of function, so the MC work pretty much disappeared. Until last week, when a brave woman decided she wasn’t going to delay her industry’s get-together for another six months – the evening would go ahead. And so it did.
Everyone attending, from the industry insiders to the function staff looking after the attendees, had to show a negative rapid antigen test. Only 100 people were able to attend. And a lot of the out-oftowners chose not to come to Auckland because they didn’t want to take Omicron back to their communities. But for those of us who made it, it was a wonderful night.
The men looked handsome in their dinner suits and black tie; the women looked glamorous in their long gowns. Everyone brought their best party attitudes and we celebrated the award winners in style. Such fun!
I drove home later that night feeling as though things were beginning to get back to normal. That there really was still a place for fun, frivolity and flash frocks.
And then just 48 hours later, the household came down with Omicron and we were forced into isolation for a week. Sigh. One step forward, two steps back.
The bookings are starting to come in now though.
I have functions booked for August, October and November, and surely more will come.
There is light at the end of the tunnel.
Now I just have to focus on getting rid of my lockdown lard so I can fit all those beautiful dresses hanging in my wardrobe that have been waiting for the opportunity to shine over the past two years.
I was dressed to the nines in a glittery, sequinned dress, I had squeezed my tootsies into high heels –I even had a bra on