Random remimder

Press, 22 June 1979, Page 14

Random remimder

MANNERS FROM HEAVEN

There are two things important in life, and one of them is food. This is not the sort of insight that the normal New Zealand middle-class upbringing imprints upon the mind. But it is the sort of insight that is imprinted — indelibly imprinted — upon the mind by hitch-hiking, hungry, through the Hundalees in a hurricane. She had been lucky to get across Cook Strait at all. She had been lucky with a first fast lift, straight through Picton, straight through Blenheim, and down the coast. But now the wind was up, the clouds were down, she was 100 km from anywhere, there hadn’t been any headlights for an hour, the rain was oozing through her parka, she was cold, miserable, and starving to death. Comfortable haystacks, zero. Chances to change, dry off, cook something, zero. Signs of human habitation, square pies, hot drinks, zero. Just the long and winding road, and gusts of sleet in her face. She ti. htened her belf and kept on squelching along.

i Glimmer. Roar. Whizz. Screech. I “Hey — I’m going right through to I Christchurch, fast. Do you want a 1 lift?” Oh, the solid leather upholstery. Oh, the rush of hot air from the fan. Oh, the bright and the dance of sparkling raindrops in the headlamps. The driver waved a hand at an enormous parcel iof sausages, fish, chicken, paua ' patties, and crispy golden chips. “Help yourself.” 1 She took a chip, betraying who 1 knows what tenets of middle-class ' upbringing. She took another, making one in each hand. I “Do you want that last half I chicken?” said the driver. “Uh, no, thanks,” she replied nibbling daintily. ;The middle class always leave one i thing on the plate. Okay, said the driver, and tossed the whole parcel out his window. I There are two important things in life, and one of them is very definitely i food. . Never, never say "Nd” when you 'mean “Yes.”