SANDY’S CORNER

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 89, Issue 214, 10 September 1945, Page 4

SANDY’S CORNER

THAT RADIO LISTENING. We don't know whether Parliamentarians will take as a compliment or as a grave reflection upon them, Mr. Scrimgeour's statement, cabled from Australia, that Parliamentary debates and wrestling draw the biggest radio audiences New Zealand. We know full well, however, that tastes do differ. For instance, when we wanted to hear Mr. Algie and Mr. Langstone verbally ‘'wrestling" in lhe House the other night for the great political prize of the day—the Bank of New Zealand —our youngest son badly wantel to listen to some "dame" <we use the word in its worst sensei "wrestling” witn a song called "Saturday Night's the Lonliest Night in the Week.” It was our only night off in the week and listening to Prof. Algie was great. Listening to Bob Semple is the same, but not one ot our growing family will have either. They prefer ‘TH Walk Alone," something that sounds to us like “Cow. Cow Boogey,” and “Pistol Packin' Mutnma," to all the Parliamentary debates in the world. The glory of Parliamentary debate leaves them cold. To us, there is something intensely funny in Prof. Algie coining the phrase "iunny pioney,' of Bob Semple talking of noltticians he wouldn't trust to catch stray dogs round a rubbish tip.

But as for expressing a preference between the two great radio attractions (according to Mr. Scrimgeour)— Parliamentarians and wrestlers—there, we are at a loss. We don’t quite know what we would do if there was a Bulget being attacked on the same night as "Little Red Lupin was to meet Big Whiskered Sands for the wrestling title of the world, scheduled to go 10 rounds." The war has sort of dimmed our interest in Red Lupins and Big Whiskers, but we can remember the day when people were white hot with rage because the late Gordon Coates spoke over every national and commercial station in New Zealand on the same night as there was a big wrestling match scheduled from the Town Hall in Wellington. It was barred from the air. and New Zealand little knows how near it was to red revolution that night.

As for the radio generally, we have fourd that it has a way of its own of “tvhooping" things up. We have seen wrestling matches and got less thrill from the match than from the crowd. We suppose that the same applies to listening. You get more out of how the announcer says it than the wav the wrestlers do it. Presumably, the same applies to Parliament. It is rather dull it you are there, but exciting listening in. It would never do. however, for those in the gallerv to suddenly adopt the atmosphere ol a wrestling ring. "Lofty. Lofty, Lofty; bile hint Loftv. bite him. he’s dirty.' (We can well remember a Wanganui femimne fan calling io Lofty Blomfield (in davs gone by). On another occasion, in one of the few seconds of silence and of tenseness round a wrestling ring in the Wanganui Opera House, we hoard a wag bellow: "Look out Whiskers, there's a white butterfly coming o ut of his eauliflowc ear." ’We would say that it is not so much the wrestling that makes it famous, as those who look on and their way of expressing themselves. Mr. Speaker would never forgive us if we advocated that same sort of atmosphere j> the House. “Just a pack of dingoes." That was flung across the floor of the House the other dav, and, goodness knows, that is surely close enough to the wrestling ring type of expression. Sometimes v e feel as sorry for Mr. Speaker, trying to curb that sorf of interiect'on' as we felt long ago for lhe referee in the wrestling ring, wondering which of to men on the mat was doing the most "pointing" and. therefore, entitled to a win "or. points." It took us a long time io find out what “points" meant. We know now.