God defend me

OPINION: I was watching telly the other morning – I've got a morbid fascination with Paul Henry and it's making me late for work (off to the naughty chair) but at least I'm eating breakfast (gold star and scratch-and-sniff Mr Men sticker), writes Sarah McCarthy in this week's Uptown Girl.

While suffering through the Christmas carol-laden ads it occurred to me that New Zealand has become a nation that is totally and utterly full of itself. I know we've been touting the old Kleen and Green NZ for aaages now, and that's fine, but suddenly all I see are ads for Kiwi this and New Zuld that. That Four Square guy (although full props to Senor Frizzell for sheer awesomeness) is getting on my wick and if I see one more ad extolling the virtues of The Good Old Kiwi Summer I'm going to do myself some damage – possibly trying to fit out of the frustratingly tiny windows at work with the hopes of plummeting to a sticky end but instead just getting a nasty scratch on the old frontage that will mean I'll have to lift up my top in front of a disconcertingly handsome South African doctor at Southland Hospital.

You know how it is.

Because I'm up to the back teeth with buzzy bees, I've never particularly liked L&P and, as for having sparkly, tiny, oh-so ironic jandals dangling off the christmas tree – well that's a big fat no way, good buddy. Stick your gen-yew-wine Kiwi bach/crib. Pohutukawa begone. Pavlova – well that's kind of Australian, isn't it, so it doesn't count. And Dave Dobbyn. Dave Bloody Dobbyn can Welcome me Home as much as he likes, but if I hear that song one more time the woman with her hands trembling will be me, desperately trying to restrain myself from haere mai-ing him in the Ahmed Zaouis.

There's T-shirts. There's the Silver Fern tattooed on anyone who has been further than the Chatham Islands. There's the hysterical allegiance to often appalling home-grown music.

Visitors must think that every single person in this whole blummin country is on holiday here and somehow managed to get a rilly rilly awesome deal at the souvenir shop in Duty Free.

The last time rampant patriotism was so en vogue it was in Middle America whenever it was that the US invaded whoever they last invaded (I can't remember if Afghanistan counts or if it's an annexe, like Tasmania is to Australia) and everyone started scoffing freedom fries and wearing gauche little American Flag badges. Ugh. And while there is nothing wrong with tooting your own horn, I think we can all agree there is a massive, Beehive-sized difference between a quaint "Meep Meep" and the General Lee's horn from the Dukes of Hazzard. Isn't there.

I mean, fair suck of the sav, mate, don't get all dog on me about it for saying so but I reckon the whole business has had a fair crack. Eh? We need to get in behind.

» Sarah McCarthy is a Southland Times staff member.

- © Fairfax NZ News

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