Sometimes I worry about the company I keep. Tonight, I staggered home from the recording of Media7 (where the back of my head sometimes is shown in the closing titles) to find that our host, Mr Russell Brown, is the Seventh worst New Zealander, and has been so since February 2006.
I suppose I should console myself that Mr Brown is not man-hating, anti-family, and hostile to marriage, as is the worst New Zealander, Margaret Wilson. And at least Mr Brown is a better New Zealander than Helen Clark and Tim Barnett. But then, Judith Tizard is a worse New Zealander than Mr Brown, although not quite as bad as Ms Wilson.
I suppose I should also seek consolation in the fact that this is not August 1968 and I do not know Gale Olson, Playboy Playmate of that Month, whose mother was from New Zealand (according to Wikipedia, which, of course, does not exist in 1968). This brazen hussy is possibly a worse New Zealander than any of the above. Frankly, I think I had a lucky escape.
Who me? Look, I am just trying to promote New Zealand on a world stage. It is my duty, now that our Prime Minister is also our Tourism Minister.