Reporter’s diary

Press, 15 September 1988, Page 2

Reporter’s diary

Button up, kid AUSTRALIAN-made shirts are all part of the plot to undermine our national pride and self-confidence, swears a Christchurch man. His attempts to button a new shirt engrossed his young daughter, who was vastly amused to see Daddy apparently unable to match the buttons to the correct buttonholes — a skill he had been trying to teach her. It was do-or-die on the third attempt, when he noticed that there was an extra button, thoughtfully sewn on to the shirt, below the others. Every other shirt manufacturer, he swears, tucks their spare out of sight. His enthralled daughter prefers to explain simply that Daddy can’t count. Quality in quantity THE Quality Inn, opposite the Parkroyal, is now known as the Quality Inn Christchurch. But hang about. The Chateau \ Regency is now known as the Quality Inn Chateau. Yes, you guessed it — tourists arriving at the airport ask the taxi-driver to take them to the Quality Inn. “Which one?” “You mean there’s more than one?” Much confusion as taxi-drivers have to sort out the mess with radio and phone calls. Floods of old MISS Jane Sotheran was a young girl in Greymouth

when another infamous flood hit the West Coast. She wrote of the effect, many years later in 1948. “We first lived at Lower Richmond Quay, but lost our home and all our possessions in the Old Mari flood of 1872,” she wrote for her niece, Mrs Ethel Sotheran. “In the flood most of the buildings in lower Greymouth were swept out to sea, but there was no loss of life. Hotels and business premises were included in the buildings whirled seawards by the raging torrent.”'The family rebuilt in Greymouth but on higher ground. Miss Sotheran remained..a teacher in' the town ’ until her retirement in 1912, and lived until nearly 100, another testimony to the sturdy West Coast character. Tell-tale fillings IT could pay to keep your sandwiches to yourself, if a survey conducted by a London psychologist is any indication. Dr David Lewis says that preferences for sandwich fillings reveal what sort of lover you are. According to David Jones, of the NZPA, Dr Lewis surveyed customers of Boots chainstores in Britain, and concluded that prawn sandwiches are preferred by ambitious types who are demanding and passionate in bed. Chicken is the choice of affectionate people who make warm

and sensitive lovers. Roast beef is for tender types who lack passion. But salmon, ah-ha, is the filling for people who are never-a-dull moment lovers. One can only speculate what he would make of the colleague who adores lemon cheese and chocky chip inners. Awkward business MAINTENANCE of the seven lighting masts in Cathedral Square is a tricky business. Traffic has had to manoeuvre round the crane carrying painters as they work their way down the masts. The crane is used in preference to other methods such as erecting scaffolding or hanging from the lighting rings (which does not thrill the Labour Department). But perhaps there is another way that the City Council could consider. How about popping a painter in a bear or panda suit, dipping him in a tin of paint, attaching him to the top of the mast in a bear hug, and letting him slither down, fire-man-style. It would be extremely diverting for bored office workers, let alone bus and theatre queues. Cheers SALUTATIONS and sympathies to W. Y. and J. Gin Investments, Ltd, who are in voluntary liquidation. —Jenny Setchell