A note of vindication for New Zealand and Gillette

The Fusion Razor and Fusion Power have arrived - shining, massive, soul-shaking displays of them scattered throughout supermarkets all over the country. At long last, the Schick Quatro and old-timey Mach III are put in their rightful worldly place - the refuse heap. Shaving technology has evolved, and those less-capable 3 and 4-blade razors are about to become endangered...

What's this?!?

Gillette has just come out with the Gillette Fusion Power Phantom. According to the ad copy - "Gillette Fusion Power is so advanced, you'll barely feel the blades. The micro-pulses help reduce friction and increase razor glide - for a shave so good, the ladies will never even see you coming."

Great shiny dag! You could probably shear a sheep with that razor! And what a good looking piece of lamb-meat THAT would be...

It seems that razors have come a long way from the old straight-edge. Back in ye olden days, I bet girls could see the guys coming from miles away - shaving with only one big, non-powered blade like that. And who wants to shave their face with a mini-meat cleaver anyway?

No matter what we do - six blades, twelve blades, electromagnetic vibro-pulse precision blades, America will always find a way to be one step ahead of this shaving evolutionary curve. It's astounding that New Zealand can be left in the silky smooth wake of a country where 48% of the folk don't even believe in evolution, according to the latest Newsweek poll. In fact, about the same percentage of Americans take creationism as fact, and believe the earth was created 10,000 years ago in its present form. That's as crazy as saying that six blades came before four! Or why not try to just "come up" with an idea like micro-pulses without having something like a moisture lube-strip first?

It's probably easy enough for Americans to believe in things like creationism when they're plopped in front of a television for an average of more than 4 hours a day (when do they have the time to shave?). So while they're catching up on televangelism, CSI, and Fox News, New Zealanders are out swimming (or shaving?) in Lake Taupo - a 600-sq-km lake formed 26,500 years ago by one of the biggest volcanic eruptions in history. Or they're exploring the glowworm caves in Waitomo, which have cave formations dated at 750,000 years old, based on rates of stalactite and stalagmite creation of approx 1 cubic centimeter every hundred years.

Surrounded by a nation of volcanoes, fault lines, exposed uplifted sea-bed, ancient species, and dated razor blades, it's a bit easier to take a step back from all the talking points, dogma, ad copy, and razor smooth cutting-edge science. Down in New Zealand, we're not bothered by ideas of stealth technology shaving. We may not own the very latest toys or gadgets. We're not wrapped up in the latest fashions (you saw the hair-do's). We just eat lamb from the barbie, wear our shorts at mid-thigh, and if a lady sees you coming, then good on ya mate.

So don't look down on us just because we're not Phantom-powered yet. When we're sitting on the harbor at dinnertime, drinking Speights and watching the sun glint off the hill-side houses, we're happy enough. I guess we just don't know what we're missing.

A character who goes by the moniker "Prof" has recently weighed in on our Waitarere weekend.

Happiness is not bound up in doing for self, he notes.

I want the prof to know that your message has reached the boys. An emergency round table meeting was held last night to discuss our narcissistic ways. Voices were raised, tears were shed. Shock was damn near inconsolable.

Decisions were made. For each novelty mug of wine we drink tonight, $4.50 (NZD) will be donated to the Gay Children's Defence Fund, Dunne's charity of choice.

I know it's a small step, prof, but its a start.

'Atta Boy!

In today's news, Real World New Zealand gets pegged by the blogger crew as the 'Blog of Note' today. Thanks, team!


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Interesting and noteworthy Blogger-powered blogs, compiled by the Blogger Team.
For historical context, see Concerning the Historie and Nature of Blogs of Note.

Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Real World New Zealand

http://nzboys.blogspot.com/

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We threw a party to celebrate...

Waitarere weekend

To be able to fill leisure intelligently is the last product of civilization, and at present very few people have reached this level.

-Bertrand Russell, Conquest of Happiness



The city grind wore away at the boys, serene Wellington starting to feel like an actual hustle and bustle. Perspective needed to be returned to these working stiffs, these blue collar toastmasters. To the countryside they go.

One hundred clicks up the Kapiti coast lies a sleepy seaside town called Waitarere. No stop signs, let alone stoplights, Waitarere was an isider's tip your correspodent received from Establishment regular Tommy, who used to call it home. Sixty years old and Irish born and raised, Tommy is the regular you love to see pass through the door; always with a smile on his face, quick to bring a genuine one to yours. Tommy enjoys visiting on my sleepy afternoon shifts, talking sex, drinking, traveling, the bar girls, the roommates. If there's a personification of the classic Kiwi adage "Good on ya!", it's Tommy. He felt Waitarere was the remedy. That was good enough for me and the beach house was booked online that evening.


Morgan, Shock, Charlie, and myself made the trek, with travel buddy Irish John in tow. Trainer could not make it, as he was on a North island tour with Maggie, and Dunne could not attend due to nine to five constraints imposed by the New Zealand banking industry. Deliah served us well but broke down literally at the foot of our building upon return. The old girl might need to be put down, but that's a story for another post.

As far as the specifics of weekend activities, I don't think they would surprise too many. Drinking, feasting, muisc, card playing, and world classs lounging dominating the hours. Not to say nothing constructive occured. Shock developed his beer marinade, Mogan and Charlie stumbled upon a 19th century shpwreck, and my man-crush on Barack Obama deepened after reading more on his Chicago beginnings.


Tommy was spot on, as the weekend seemed to be what everybody needed; the tanks have been refilled. At press time, Morgan, Charlie, and myslef regroup at the penhouse sipping cold kiwi ale. Afternoon turns to evening. Clocks have gone back and autumn lies in wait. My work week hours away. Here we go again.

Homemade Postcard

From those of us who haven't written home in a while...

...we'll consider ourselves off the hook for a few more weeks.

It's Late, I'm drjunk, but...

I have to tell some one about this..

So I just spent the last 20 minutes trying to stymie the 'other american" 's attmpet sot follow me home. For those of you who have only recently joined us... i apologoze for leaving you o0ut of the loop, but I' donm;t hve much time before I pass out. So a few of us had a few drinks ast work after work... wjich usually leads to good conversataion. in this case hoxwerer , it lead to the other american provong that not only could she not stay classy....but mayhaps she was never classy to begin with...

Highlughts include...
The state capitol game..

"Delaware? No, that's too hard. ask me another one."
"Illinois? I don't know... Caspar. no wait, that's Wyoming. No, I mean Wisonsin."
"Pennsylvania? Harrisville...??, no wait... I know... It's Jefferson City."

But the quote of the night comes from the folloiwing exchange...

She: "There are really only thrre races in the world. Black., White, and Asian."
Me: "So what do you call South Americans?"
She: "Asians."

Sweet As!

It's time for a little more local culture...and further proof that crossing the International Date Line may have put us a day ahead, but still a decade behind. In this installment, we let a classic kiwi drink showcase classic kiwi fashion. Click Here to begin your education.





Sweet As, Mate! Good On Ya.

Today's episode was brought to you by the letters L & P.

It's about time we updated this thing...

Damn right it's about time... we could apologize for not updating this, but if there's one thing we've learned about kiwi culture thus far, it's the importance of being straightforward. Down here cigarettes come with labels that say SMOKING WILL KILL YOU. Highways are lined with warnings that say SPEEDING WILL KILL YOU. Even the zoo posts signs that would scare most children I know...

So we're not apologizing. Very simply, we've become locals... and as such, are very busy. And when we're not hard at work, we roll through town just like in a Fat Freddys Drop video. That being said, however, a blog post is well overdue. Unfortunately for those of you keeping stats back home, so much has happened since we last did this that rankings have gone out the window. This will be just the facts... most of them.

Dunne -
Finally swayed by the temptation of the sedentary life, Dunne has traded his drink-slinging days at Molly's for the quiet pastures of cubicle life and a love-hate relationship with Sky Movies 2. Preceded by a slightly panicked trip to the department store and an online 'how-to-tie-a-necktie' session... Dunne has returned to the office...only thing missing is the button-maker.


Calvert -
Still pulling double-duty in town and currently in the on-deck cirlce at Basement Bar, waiting to take the reigns as duty manager, Calvert seemingly has his shizz together. Purveyor of discounted (read: free) drinks, his responsibilities now include being Shock's boss (or as Shock maintains...partner). Proving that it's ok to work for the Establishment and have a career in the Basement...


Charlie -
Just as Dunne's spending less time at Molly's, Charlie is spending more...though he's still firstly and foremostly the man behind the bar...emphasis on the man... at Mac's Brewery, though we'll have serious questions about his clout if he charges his parents full-price when they show up next week. Or is it this week? Oh crap, maybe they're already here. We need to clean.

Shock -
Just left the pad to work his last night at Electric Avenue... Shock's been playing the professional field. Now part-time at Basement (see above comment) and full-time at Mac's Brewery. While the hours are much better (no more getting home at 6am...from work, that is), he'll admittedly miss the nightly parade of hen parties fighting for his attention. Oh...and they're still talking about his amazing Guac in the Big K's Kitchen.


Trainer -
Having graduated from glassy to goon squad, Trainer is now officially gone with the wind...and by wind we mean girlfriend. Currently somewhere on the South Island; we're hoping he left a trail of wine bottles to find his way back. Follow the journey on the 500-photo web album.




Steve -
With Trainer down South and Charlie off the Couch, the Terrace had room to spare...and rent to cover. Enter Steve. Steve from Chicago. Worked at Molly's, introduced Dunne to the idea of temp-agency-office-work, and played the guitar (that, presumably, he still does) He's gone now...headed back to the States... we'll miss him. Not to worry, though...he's applying to SSCC.

Morgan -
Still cultivating the Kiwi cut... Morgan's been clocking significant hours at work. His presence is now referred to by management as quote-unquote indispensable. Not sure how that happened...but it comes with a lot of free Export Gold Extra Cold and it's a sub-5-minute walk from the Terrace, so no one's complaining. He is, however, looking forward to sleeping in a bed someday... someday.



So there you have it. All (most) of it. Time to hit the town.

One of these things is not like the other...

One of us had to do it eventually. Oh, and those shades fell off a passing bus.