The Latest from Opinion /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/rss ¾ÅÒ»ÐÇ¿ÕÎÞÏÞ Fri, 31 Jan 2025 05:01:13 Z en Jack Tame: The solitude of tramping in the bush /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/jack-tame-the-solitude-of-tramping-in-the-bush/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/jack-tame-the-solitude-of-tramping-in-the-bush/ As I turned on my phone for the first time in three days, it lit up with text messages from my wife.  A photo. A tiny baby. Trussed up in a cotton wrap like a fresh, fleshy burrito with a little woolen hat for good measure.  “Congratulations,” she said.  “You’re a dad.”  I knew she was joking. I’m not denying there was an element of risk in going tramping through the backcountry of the Kahurangi National Park with a wife who was 32-weeks pregnant. I just knew that if she had had the baby while I was dragging myself up a distant ridgetop, her first words to me when I emerged from the bush would not have been ‘Congratulations!’  Solitude in the bush —the uncontactableness— is a big part of the attraction for me. I love the physical challenge of tramping. I love the birds, the piwakawaka flitting about when you're under the canopy, and the kea squawking over the valleys. I love how humbling it is, how insignificant you feel, when you stand on top of a mountain ridge and are confronted with your puniness. But maybe above all, I love that feeling when you can see nor hear no sign of human beings.  Realistically, that solitude is about to take a massive hit. When I was in the Kahurangi, it struck me that it’s only a matter of time —a couple of years at most— before satellite internet and communications technology mean we will all have internet and cell phone reception all the time. It won’t matter if you’re in downtown Auckland or halfway down the traverse from Yuletide Peak to the Anatoki Forks Hut, if you want comms you’ll have comms. That endless stream of notifications buzzing in your pocket.  I’m not going to deny the obvious upsides, especially in my family, where there is a history (thankfully not mine) of people going missing in the bush. In emergency situations it’s going to be hugely valuable. For trampers who want weather forecast updates or people in some rural parts of the country with connectivity holes, a gamechanger.  But with all that is gained with increased connectivity, that humbling sense of solitude is lost. It’ll be that much harder to escape the World, even for a couple of days. All I hope is that when our child is born and is old enough to go tramping, a voluntary code of sorts will have become the norm for all trampers when they head into the New Zealand bush: Fill out the intentions book, tell someone where you’re going. And for goodness’ sake, unless it’s an emergency, put your phone on airplane mode.  Fri, 24 Jan 2025 21:27:33 Z Francesca Rudkin: Danielle Collins just met the crowds halfway /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-danielle-collins-just-met-the-crowds-halfway/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-danielle-collins-just-met-the-crowds-halfway/ Summer means different things to us all, but if you love a game of tennis then summer sure delivers. And sometimes it gives us more than just a hard-fought match – it can also serve up a conversation starter as to how we should behave, as both players and the crowd.    The wind and rain made things challenging for the ASB Classic organisers in Auckland. Regardless, it was a great tournament with sold out crowds and some excellent tennis.    I’ve only just started to watch tennis live over the last few years, and it’s become a summer must do. It’s a great sport to watch live, especially at the Manuka Doctor Stadium in Stanley St, because it’s such an intimate setting. We’re so well behaved here in NZ – it takes no prompts for the crowd to go quiet, and it can be a relief when a fan finally gets the courage to yell some encouragement between points.    Getting hooked on the ASB Classic is the perfect lead into the Australian Open. A few hours each evening have drifted away while I’ve been watching on the telly, but with over 90,000 people heading into the Arena on some days, their behaviour can be a little rowdier than here in NZ.    A lot has been made of US player Danielle Collins’ behaviour towards a hostile crowd a day or so ago, but really all she did was meet them halfway.    Playing local favourite Destanee Aiava, the crowd was very obviously behind the Aussie, and this led to combative scenes between the crowd and Collins.   Collins made the comment post-match that she thought there were quite a lot of “super drunk” people who had a hard time controlling themselves; but admitted she loved the energy, regardless of which side the crowd are on.    During the match Danielle used that energy as motivation and wasn’t afraid to bite back, blowing sarcastic kisses and making a pretty brash speech at the completion of her win which was the equivalent to giving the middle finger.    Was it classy? No. Was it the way you would like your child to behave? No. But do you blame her? No. It’s not fair to just criticize the player’s behaviour when she’s only matching the crowds.    How much abuse would you put up with in the workplace? Sure, heckling is part of sport, but it works best when delivered with good humour or a light touch, not nastiness. If you’re doing all the work and others are firing abuse at you from the sideline, is it really any different to the abhorrent behaviour of online trolls? Good on her for being herself and not taking any, you know, crap.   Collins has made herself the villain of the tournament. I doubt she cares. You wouldn’t get this from a young player establishing themselves on the circuit, but maybe Collins, who’s coming to the end of her career, is doing them a favour by challenging the crowd’s behaviour.    It wouldn’t happen here – we're more passive and a little less exciting, but there’s nothing wrong with being respectful. I’d much prefer that’s the lesson we’re passing on to younger generations.  Fri, 17 Jan 2025 21:19:47 Z Francesca Rudkin: Liam Lawson's success is something to be celebrated /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-liam-lawsons-success-is-something-to-be-celebrated/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-liam-lawsons-success-is-something-to-be-celebrated/ How good is the news about Liam Lawson. Regardless of whether you’re a Sergio Perez fan, what you think of Max Verstappen as a teammate, or of Liam Lawson as a driver – he has achieved something extraordinary, something a select few accomplish, and secured himself a coveted F1 seat for 2025. This is truly something to be celebrated. We’ve always struggled as New Zealanders to know how to deal with Kiwis who have great success. We love our poppies to a point, and then we tend to tear them down, or at least knock them about a bit. Just ask them. So while I don’t propose a seismic cultural shift and lose our generally humble and down to earth attitude, I do think a shift in how we acknowledge success would be a good thing. If we’re to become the best little country in the world, we need people, in whatever field they are in, to aspire to be the best. And yes, that sometimes requires talking yourself up to be a winner. Liam Lawson knows better than anyone the environment he’s heading into - the money, politics, publicity, and egos involved. No team is going to pick the guy who says, ‘yeah, if there’s a space available, I’d love it’. They want someone who says, ‘I can do this, I want to be the best and I will do what it takes on and off the track’. To be a successful F1 driver you need an extraordinary amount of confidence in yourself and your ability. It is a mental game as much as a physical and technical one. In response to the announcement Liam Lawson said, “To be announced as an Oracle Red Bull Racing Driver is a lifelong dream for me, this is something I’ve wanted and worked towards since I was eight years old.” It reminded me of a conversation I had with Kiwi Indie Car driver Marcus Armstrong. I really enjoyed my conversation with him – and I asked him why New Zealand drivers were doing so well around the world, when they often don’t have the money or connections to help them. He said to me that it’s because we sacrifice so much to do it, we must succeed, it makes us want to be the best. Liam has wanted this since he was 8. Marcus left NZ at 12 to follow his dream. Their success isn’t a fluke. A lot of people have helped them get to where they are, but ultimately, it’s them behind the wheel making things happen. They’re role models for other young kiwis, encouraging them to be audacious, dream big, and just go for it. So to all the haters who came out online and had a go at Liam Lawson after Red Bull’s decision to hire him, I say Merry Christmas. No one cares. I for one can’t wait for the 2025 season to kick off – how much more fun is it going to be having a young Kiwi to support. LISTEN ABOVE. Fri, 20 Dec 2024 21:16:31 Z Jack Tame: The stress of hanging wall decals /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/jack-tame-the-stress-of-hanging-wall-decals/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/jack-tame-the-stress-of-hanging-wall-decals/ The obvious question is why?  Why would you do it? Why put yourself through it?    No one was compelling us. No one had a gun to our heads. We weren’t competing for a million dollars on a reality TV show.    So why, two weeks before Christmas, with all of the stress and pressure of the silly season, in the midst of that heavy, humid, tropical Auckland heat, with Mava seven months pregnant, why would we decide that now was the time to put up wall stickers in our baby’s room?   To be accurate, I’m not sure if they were wall stickers or wall decals. I don’t really know the difference. All I know is they were two enormous trees —three metres high— that each came in multiple parts needing to be perfectly stuck to the wall. Different branches and shrubbery had to be placed together perfectly, lest one half of the tree sit lower than the other. One mistake, and your eye gets drawn immediately to the error: a tiny gap of wall in the seam where the pieces should connect, or a lump of bunched up sticker creased together, a permanent reminder of stress and incompetence.    My first experience with them was when I bought a four-metre-wide vinyl world map for my old apartment wall. The map was exquisite, but it required two giant sheets to be perfectly aligned. I nailed the first —level, with no creases or lines— but tilted the second sheet by just one or two degrees. When you’re sticking them to the wall, you start at the top, so by the time I’d worked my way down to the Tropic of Capricorn it was obvious I was in trouble. For years afterwards I stared at the wall, consumed by the overlap which cut out three quarters of the territory between Adelaide and Perth, and a crease which created an unexpected mountain range east of the Falkland Islands. Trust me when I say this: even if visitors don’t notice it, you notice it.  I know what you’re thinking. Wall stickers are tacky? Well, you’re certainly right in the literal sense of the word. Given they would be the predominant visual features in our baby’s room, Mava had decided it wasn’t the sort of thing you for which she wanted an el-cheapo job from Temu. And given she is two people at the moment, we figured I should be the one on the ladder.  Looking back at those few hours though, I think the fact the tree wall stickers were expensive only added to the pressure.    As I teetered on the step ladder:  “A little to the left!”    Hands out-stretched to the wall,   “A little to the right”     I felt beads of sweat run down the bridge of my nose.    “No, not like that! Smooth with the palm of your hand.”   I don’t know how hanging wall stickers compares to hanging wallpaper, but it was a team effort in the end. From the peeling of the stickers to the spirit-levelling, to rubbing out the creases and bubbles against the wall.    In the end though, the real measure of success isn’t the fact the trees look fantastic (although they do).    The real success is that somehow our relationship survived.  Fri, 13 Dec 2024 21:53:26 Z Francesca Rudkin: Airline headlines and flight delays /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-airline-headlines-and-flight-delays/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-airline-headlines-and-flight-delays/ I started counting headlines about Air New Zealand two weeks ago after my flight from Nelson to Auckland was delayed by about an hour.    Then last Saturday my partners flight from Napier to Auckland was delayed after a bird strike. Neither delay was hugely consequential – just a little irritating.     But since then, there have been a number of press articles about issues with planes.    On the 30th of November, an Air NZ plane sat on the tarmac in Hong Kong for hours before being canned after a fuel fault and then crew sickness.    An Air NZ flight from Wellington to Sydney was diverted to Auckland on the 1st of December after engine problems.    And a flight from Gisborne to Auckland on the 2nd of December returned to Gisborne after engine problems. The plane landed safely after shutting down an engine shortly after departure.    Investigations are underway for both engine issues.    Anecdotally you don’t have to search too hard to find someone who’ll share a story of a flight delayed or cancelled, often at the last minute.    It got me wondering if we’re experiencing more incidents, delays and cancellations than before; or are we just complaining more? Do we feel we can complain more because quite often we’re paying good money to fly around our little country?    Recent figures released by the Ministry of Transport, which compare Jetstar and Air NZ’s services on the main trunk jet routes they compete on, show that in September Air New Zealand recorded 80.4% for on-time departures (within 15 minutes of schedule), and Jetstar 78.0%.    For on-time arrivals, Air New Zealand recorded 82.1% and Jetstar 80.6%. In January, Air New Zealand was sitting at 88% and it dropped to 77% in March this year. So reliability has fluctuated throughout the year.   Another interesting figure - Air New Zealand’s cancellation rate was 1.4%, more than twice Jetstar’s which was 0.6%.   So yeah, the stats could be better. We all accept airlines can’t control the weather, but Air New Zealand has had other issues to grapple with.     Planes out of action due to high global demand for engine maintenance meant 10 jets were out of service in the first half of this financial year.  It is not expected this will be sorted until 2026.    On top of this, the travel market has been a mixed bag, leading the airline to announce this week they will be running fewer flights on some domestic routes in 2025. Who knows what this will do to prices?    A 1.4% cancellation rate is tiny in the overall scheme of things – but when combined with other disruptions and high prices, Air New Zealand has its challenges cut out for them. For so long they have been a beloved New Zealand brand, but since Covid it’s been like pushing a Dreamliner uphill. Have you run out of patience yet?  The Air New Zealand service and staff may be fabulous, but as long as long as the fleet and financials remain under pressure it looks like it will be difficulty to quiet the headlines.  Fri, 06 Dec 2024 20:44:47 Z Jack Tame: A new baby, a new generation, a new life /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/jack-tame-a-new-baby-a-new-generation-a-new-life/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/jack-tame-a-new-baby-a-new-generation-a-new-life/ The first thing I noticed was Mava’s thirst.  In the years I’ve known my wife, I can’t think of a time when she’s voluntarily consumed a glass of water. Coffee? Sure. Iced latte in the morning, Pepsi Max in the afternoon. But water? Water has never really been her jam. And yet here she was, all of a sudden, glugging back glass after glass of the good stuff.  “You’re pregnant,” I said.  The next thing I noticed was her sweet tooth, or rather lack thereof.  “Do you want a treat?” I called from the kitchen. One of my wife’s finest qualities is she never says no to dessert. And yet... No.  “I just don’t feel like it,” she said.  “You’re pregnant,” I said.  It’s amazing how much a line on a stick can change your life.  I think when I was younger, I didn’t properly appreciate that sometimes life doesn’t go the way you expect it will. I have a lot of friends for whom getting pregnant and having children hasn’t been anything like our experience so far. Sometimes it just doesn’t happen, and it can be the most painful, traumatic experience. I feel so fortunate, in that sense.  Crazy how quickly the algorithms get you. You sign up for one baby app —‘this week your baby is the size of a turnip’— and all of your ads change in an instant to pushchair brands with soft Nordic names and umlauts. Oh, to have invested in the baby business a few decades back.  I’ve learnt a lot about my wife over the last 6 months. She’s tough. Retching at the traffic lights one minute, and back on with her day the next. How ever many billion years of evolution and pregnant women are left with scientifically-dubious acu-pressure bands and ginger tea?! The good news is her sweet tooth’s back. And her sense of humour never left.  I’ve found myself thinking about the other parents in my life, and particularly my own. I’m one of four. Four! And my folks had no help. I can already see why people rate raising children as their greatest accomplishment.  Although I understand it all in a theoretical sense, I’m not sure the full weight of impending fatherhood has yet sunken in, or will until our baby is born.  Mava is due in February. We’ve got a pram. We’ve got a cot. We’ve tossed around a few ideas for names, and I’ve been mesmerised by the images on the ultrasound screen. But even as I place my hand on my wife’s bump and feel something, someone, a bit of me shift and wriggle and kick, for now it’s all just magic.  I know there will be tough times ahead. Exhaustion and exasperation. But I also know the magic will only intensify.  A new baby. A new generation. A new life. And the sense that mine will change forever.  Fri, 22 Nov 2024 21:05:21 Z Francesca Rudkin: Abuse in care redress is not something to do half-heartedly /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-abuse-in-care-redress-is-not-something-to-do-half-heartedly/ /on-air/saturday-morning-with-jack-tame/opinion/francesca-rudkin-abuse-in-care-redress-is-not-something-to-do-half-heartedly/ On Tuesday the Prime Minister, the leader of the opposition, and public sector leaders formally apologised to survivors of abuse in care. They spoke with sincerity and an understanding of what these victims had been through, but the most powerful words of the day belonged to survivors.    The Abuse in Care Royal Commission of Inquiry took six years. The final report is 3000 pages long and features 130 recommendations. Tuesday was the first step in addressing this horrific abuse of vulnerable people - acknowledging it through a formal apology.    This might not sound like much, but many a leader in opposition has spoken out about this issue only to shy away and protect the Crown from liability when in power. So it was something.    But as we all know, as sincere and empathetic as those words were, it’s what happens next that matters - the actions taken that will make a difference to survivors' lives. It is the responsibility of this government, and those to come, to support survivors of abuse, hold those responsible accountable, and prevent it happening again.    This is a difficult task. There are many individual circumstances, over an extensive period of time, committed by a variety of institutions. It is going to take time to structure a system through which people are fairly compensated.    But they must be compensated.    Money does not make up for what happened. But for those who have been abused, ignored, lived lives filled with trauma and shame —some unable to live their lives to the full, hold down jobs, have fulfilling relationships— then compensation is a form of validation, and goes some way to helping with the pain.    When asked about what some have termed the ‘can of worms’ the inquiry and apology has opened - I was impressed with Prime Minister Christopher Luxon’s resolve to deal with it, while acknowledging it will be messy and hard and that the government will not satisfy everyone’s expectations.   But just because something is hard doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. If you’re in politics and avoid doing something which is so fundamentally right and moral because it's hard, then please pack up and go home.    For victims waiting up to 70 years for redress; I can understand the scepticism around what comes next. Something tells me though that Erica Stanford, the Lead Coordination Minister for the Government’s response to the report, can do hard things.    The Prime Minister, who has read all 3000 pages of the Royal Commission’s report, said if you want to understand the gravity of what has happened go and read a few of the survivor’s accounts. I took his advice.    And this is what I got from it: this is not redress we want to do half-heartedly. Equally, it needs to be done with some urgency.    While the Government is hoping to have a structure and process in place for better financial redress in the first half of next year, there is also the challenge of making sure this does not happen again. How far the Government will go to legislate against abuse in care will show us how committed they are to taking responsibility.    Let’s do this once. Let’s do this right. Let’s do all we can to make sure it never happens again.    Fri, 15 Nov 2024 21:08:24 Z