Future's so bright, I gotta wear shades
Remember the song Future's So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades by Timbuk 3?
In case you don't remember, it was released in 1986. It made at least one list of the 100 Greatest One-Hit Wonders of the 80s.
I'm humming it today for two reasons:
1) I have a voucher for a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses to give away to one lucky reader on this miserable, gloomy, rain-soaked Tuesday.
2) The Christchurch central city rebuild plan was released last night and although I know we're all supposed to be excited about what will one day be a new CBD - pool, a green belt where the red light district used to be, a stadium etc - right now that seems so far away I can't imagine it.
Pat McDonald apparently wrote the song about a young nuclear scientist and his rich future.
Most people interpret it as a positive piece about the possibilities of the future but McDonald was referring to the grim scenario of impending nuclear holocaust.
Curious fact, the nucleus of Christchurch musician Delaney Davidson's album Self Decapitation was inspired by an invitation to attend the Wisconsin Steel Bridge Song Festival in 2009.
McDonald organises the festival.
The epitome of the little guys fighting the big guys, the festival aims to preserve the Wisconsin Steel Bridge - to keep it out of the hands of developers who want to build luxury apartments and resorts alongside it.
Anyway, I'm humming this song somewhat ironically as I have a dose of the winter blues today.
There is no depression in New Zealand, right?
My winter blues are definitely #firstworldproblems and I apologise for moaning, it's just that today everything seems a bit bleak.
Normally I'm a glass-half full kinda girl but not today. Some days are just better than others, today is not one of those days.
Last night I put a kebab stick right through my finger. It still hurts.
We had no band-aids left so I made one out of tissues and cellotape.
My washing machine broke last night. Mid way through a wash cycle it stopped and began beeping like a Dalek before exterminating itself. I don't know when I'm going to be able to afford to get it repaired. I have four children and Mount Washmore is growing ever higher in my laundry.
I was up until the small hours hand-washing tiny socks and finding inventive new ways to get them dry and hanging them from increasingly strange places.
This morning my shoes, which have holes in the soles, got soaked as I stood at the bus stop waving down buses that didn't stop, that my feet are still drenched many hours later.
Right now I'm sitting here with a sore finger and wet feet, looking out the window of The Press building onto a sodden, miserable-looking CBD.
I'm trying to imagine it looking all glossy and shiny in 10 years time with parks and various precincts (yes, Christchurch is having its own episode of The Bill or Hill Street Blues) but my imagination isn't that good.
Last week I walked down Gloucester Street to the bus exchange after dark. A rat scuttled across the road in front of me, aside from my scream the only noise was the sound of tarpaulins over damaged buildings flapping in the wind.
(I hope there's a solid vermin removal programme in the city plan).
When I'm bored I like to play a game I call Count the Cranes. Right now I can see nine, they hover in the skyline like sinewy vultures.
A colleague, Bruce King, took this photo from the back of The Press last week. He liked the juxtaposition of the cross, cranes and general demolition.
It's funny/strange to think I'll be playing Count the Cranes for at least the next five years (skewer accidents permitting).
Last night, upon seeing the plans for our city's CBD of the future on the news, my 12-year-old daughter turned to me and said:
''So, when I'm 22 there might be a city for me to go to?'' she said.
A sobering thought.
Yeah, the future's so bright, you've gotta wear shades, I told her.
I know it's raining and miserable outside but maybe a pair of rose-tinted aviators will help things look better?
WIN WIN WIN
Ray-Ban is celebrating its 75th anniversary this year by re-introducing its Ambermatic range - four shapes including the classic aviator, classic aviator with curved temple tips (so I'm reliably told), the Shooter and the Outdoorsman.
Since it began in 1937, Ray Bans have adorned the faces of everyone from James Dean to Audrey Hepburn to Kate Moss, Katy Perry, Michael Jackson and Lady Gaga.
To enter the draw to win a $100 Sunglass Hut voucher, email me at Vicki.Anderson@press.co.nz by 5pm on Friday, August 3, with your favourite one-hit wonder song in the subject line. The winner will be notified.