DAVID SLACK & PRESIDENT OBAMA
David Slack discusses bullrush and traffic jams with the former leader of the free world.
Such a treat to sit down with my old friend Barack Obama again this week. As ever, I baked cheese scones, and as ever, watching carbs, we left them on the plate. But they would have been delicious.
He lit a cigarette, exhaled and we sat in silence. Then he said, ‘‘Man, it took forever to get down Lake Rd. What’s the deal with that?’’
I said, ‘‘It’s just nuts. You see all these houses? There used to be one, maybe two, cars to a house. Now it can be five.’’
I told him about a guy who came to fix our sliding doors. For 30 years he has been doing aluminium joinery in Auckland. Come the end of the month, he’s done. Can’t stand to be in the traffic anymore. Can’t stand the two hours crawling to a job and getting berated for 10 minutes when he finally arrives.
‘‘Don’t blame me, blame the traffic,’’ he told a customer this week, but she was too busy yelling at him and climbing into her SUV and phoning her friend about lunch. He said: ‘‘I’m doing manufacturing instead.’’
Mr President always wants to hear my ideas. ‘‘Dave’’, he’ll say, ‘‘you’re crazy, man, but like a fox. What you got this time?’’
I told him how, back when everyone was drinking and driving and getting breathalysed, my mate Pete thought there should be a drunks hour right after closing time. You’d stay off the road if you knew what was good for you, but if you wanted to risk it, you’d get to drive home drunk and not get stopped.
I said ‘‘9am to 3pm, Monday to Friday we should close the roads to everyone but emergency services, buses, trucks, and tradies. You get the rest of the day to drive your ludicrous SUV from one shop to the next, but from 9 to 3 you let the work of the nation proceed.’’ He said: ‘‘I like it. You’d need to build a proper cycle network, though.’’ I said: ‘‘That’s a whole other story.’’
He said: ‘‘I liked the new Prime Minister. Strong on climate.’’ I said: ‘‘She has a coalition partner who thinks we should let people drill for oil and gas.’’
I said: ‘‘Did you have a good flight? He said: ‘‘Oh man, that safety video was the worst. Are they for real?’’ I said: ‘‘That’s another one of her problems. She has a minister picking a fight with the airline because it won’t fly unprofitable routes to small towns.’’
He said: ‘‘Let me guess. You have an idea.’’ I said: ‘‘We give all the oil licences to the airline and they can only use it to get fuel for provincial services.’’
He said: ‘‘I can’t believe you kept saying no to coming and working with us. What else you got?’’
I said: ‘‘There’s a problem with high-paid executives coming over here, turning out to be duds. The recruitment agencies get more than 100k for whatever it is they do and yet no-one seems to check the guy’s last reference.
‘‘It’s like there’s some club in London where mediocre executives get together and compare notes on which organisations in NZ are the softest touch for a sweet CEO deal.’’
He said: ‘‘Go on, what’s the brainwave?’’
I said ‘‘Remember I was telling you about that kids’ game?’’ He said: ‘‘Bullrush?’’ I said: ‘‘We should find the best person inside an organisation by playing bullrush. Whoever’s last standing, you make them CEO.’’
He said: ‘‘Where would that leave the recruiters?’’ I said: ‘‘Posting their CVs all over town, if there’s any justice.’’
He said: ‘‘How about Facebook. Got anything for that, before it kills democracy? I said: ‘‘Maybe we should all just bail, pretend it didn’t happen, and never speak of it again.’’ He said: ‘‘No-one will have the willpower. What else you got?’’
I said: ‘‘Our daughter thinks social media is the single most harmful thing in kids’ lives and we should make smartphones illegal for kids under 15.’’ He said: ‘‘Now we’re talking.’’
‘‘Anyway,’’ I said, good visit? He said: ‘‘I guess.’’
I said: ‘‘Did you get to stay in a DOC hut and hear the rain on a tin roof at night?’’
He said: ‘‘No.’’
I said: ‘‘You’ll have to come back.’’
@DavidSlack