The Density of Fireworks

Fireworks are a funny, human thing. They take ages to prepare, but once that fuse is lit, they go bang or hiss or fizz, light up the sky for oh, about fifteen seconds, and then it's all over, Rover. As they say about lots of stuff, the joy is in the anticipation.

Well, this old gull has seen a lots of fireworks shows. There's the Council one down on the pier: us gullz always view that one from North Beach or the Southshore Spit - too much noise, smoke, and general mayhem up close. Mind you, those are truly spectacular displays: on behalf of the ratepayers' houses I perch on, I say: if you have to give the Council oodles of dosh to piddle away in various ways, the annual Make Things Go Bang display is right up there with the best of them.

But away from the bright lights, there are other, much more amateur fireworks shows, too. There are little groups of people secreted away everywhere, preparing their own displays. And on the big night, getting totally trolleyed, letting their carefully prepared displays go off in various ways. Yelling and yahooing generally help. But, as seasoned observers, us Gullz take such displays in our stride.

The Gullz fraternity/sorority have been endlessly amused about the antics of more than the bang-and-spark sort of fireworks. There's been another little group secreted away, preparing the Big Bang Submission for the Council's Residential density Study.

That Big Bang was meant to show the Council that the Little People were going to Stand Up and Not Let Development Happen anywhere in Brighton! And there was a Form Letter to sign, which said all that in simple words, so as not to have to let any of the Little People actually Think for Themselves. Because That, as we oldsters all know, leads to People Getting Ideas and that will Never Do. And so about, oh, thirty-seven people actually signed their brains away.

But then two Utterly Dreadful things happened to this little band of naysayers concerned citoyens.

The Council looked through all the Submissions, and decided that the Form Letter was actually just one small-s submission, not, as the purveyors and thought controllers had hoped, thirty-seven Big-S Submissions. Quelle horreur! Oh, the wailing and gnashing of teeth!

And the Evil Capitalist Developers who had bought the beachfront sections in the Commercial Zone, had their Tower Plan finally passed, put up a big sign advertising a quite tasteful looking glass and steel apartment block, and all this, just one short block away from the Chief Thought Comptroller General! And right in the path of the summer solstice sunrise, too.

Well, as us Gullz well know, you don't go poking at a sleepy dog, seal, human, or Council, without expecting some sort of unpleasant surprise. Little yappy dogz can give a Slow Gull a nasty surprise. Seals, well, have you ever smelt their breath when they open their mouths? Humans, let's just say they are one unpredictable animal of them all. And Councils, being Humans plus lots of Other People's Money, are the ones you least want to poke at for any extended period.

So, hindsight being a rather exact science, we Gullz can give the Bad Pennies of the world a leetle advice.

Try and be nicer to other people, because thinking that you're the Expert, Oracle and Fountainhead of Wisdom can be just so very tiring.

And, as brilliant as your voice sounds to you and your sweetly deluded followers, the rest of the citoyen of this fair city have a say, too. That's what Councillors do.

It's called Democracy.

Another one bites the dust - The Front Burner Rulez...

Well, baste me with butter and fry me slowly! Who would'a thunk it - another of those Beautiful Sea-side Mansions on Marine Parade, right next to the burnt-out hulk of the First Arsonical Episode of 2006 (by spooky coincidence), has Boint! Or, thanks to the ever-alert boyz and girlz of the Volly Fire Brigade, half-boint.

Now, young gulls, (oh, how rude, clean fergot to ID mesself - it's Aunt Sally Seagull blogging away here, don't all squawk at once, thanks), I do recall being told at a recent Peoplez Republic of Chch meeting on the topic of Revitalisation, that the said City Council are not responsible for the tenants of rented houses: their selection, or behaviour, or tendencies to the three 'A's' - Arson, Anti-social behaviour and Animality. And that's quite true.

But it does beg the question: if the said Council had an actual Plan which Evil Capitalist Developers (ECD's) could follow, when it proposed that "It is proposed that residential development on the beachfront be limited to developments in the order of 5 to 7 story (sic) apartment style buildings and that such developments occur close to the commercial area.", would this sorry state of affairs have come to pass? That Draft Master Plan was in 2002.

But, dear gullz, there was (can you believe this?) no such plan. Just a dopey, dreamy Envisionment.

So the ECD's who had gone and bought up lots of nice juicy sea-front sections, in the expectation that they could pop in to an architect and draw up a 5-7 storey block, toddle on in to the CCC, and get an approval after the obligatory to-and-fro and the payment of a substantial fee, were sorely disappointed. No approvals. You can, little fledglings, just imagine the conversation between an eager ECD and the ever-cautious CCC.

ECD: I've read your Master Plan, and like it so much I bought the sections already!

CCC: That's nice. New Brighton will be sooo revitalised what with (consults QV's Recent Area Sales figures) all that dosh you spent on them. What will you do with those old houses on them?

ECD: I'm going to drive a massive dozer right through them tomorrow and (pulls out a plan fresh off the printer) Build This! Whaddayerreckon?

CCC: (gives little nervous laugh) Why, ECD (can I call you E for short? we'll be seeing quite a lot of each other, you know), this here plan seems to have (counts on fingers) 7 storeys, or storys, as we refer to them in our Draft Master Plan. You can only build 3 there, 'cos that's the present L3 zoning.

ECD: Well, of course I knew that, but as your very own Master Plan clearly envisages 5-7, I just thought I'd go for it anyway. So, how's about a Non-Notified Consent, seeing as how you 'envisioned' precisely this sort of development anyway? And you will note, it's only a block from the Commercial Area, too! And (hastily places thumb across the Average Apartment Size panel) look how pretty the views are!

CCC: (second nervous laugh and quick glance over shoulder to check the exits) Well, E, I'll have to Consult my...my...Handlers! Shall we meet again in say, eighteen months?

ECD You mean, you little twerp, that the Master Plan for New Brighton Revitalisation isn't actually worth the paper it's mis-spelled on?

CCC: (Triumphant grin) Why E, I thought everyone knew that! It was a Draft plan, after all. So, what will you do in the meantime, while we run around like headless chickens and spend squillions of our ratepayers money on consultants and fear-mongers Consult our Citizenry?

ECD: Why, I'll rent out those beachside slums Seaside Mansions to pyschopaths, lurkers, hoons, arsonists and thieves and use a Rental Agency for Tenant Selection and Management (and rent collection, natch). And by the way, suppose that 10 storey plan comes through quickly, like next year, how would you enjoy first option on a penthouse apartment?

CCC: (stands on dignity and yelps briefly) Why E, that isn't the way we do things here. You cannot Buy your way into a scheme change! Well, not That way, anyway. We'll just take another - oh, say 4 years, and deliver a half-assed Scheme Change to allow little towers all up and down bits of the beach. But of course we can't guarantee timings: after all, the whole of Greater Christchurch will be able to object, because the Beach and Sandhills are Essential Tsunami protection, don't ye know?

ECD: That's OK, little minion. I have deep pockets, and the massive holding costs you are telling me about here, what with Interest on Capital Invested, not to mention those Overheads, will simply be put onto the cost of each and every apartment when we eventually get the go-ahead. In late 2009 or thereabouts, is my guess. Plus, of course, a Modest Mark-up. And a sign-up fee. And...

CCC: (small twittering noises) But, but, what about the Poor People who have an Entitlement to Water Views as part of their Community Involvement and part-time membership of the Association of Social Engineers? After all, the Central Commizat's Community's Draft Master Plan does envisage ".. a full cross-section of accommodation from the budget to the high-end, from aged care to single student/worker accommodation in a higher density..." If these apartments cost (quick calculations and a loud gulp) half a squillion each, how can these poor souls possibly afford their Rightful Share?

ECD: Beats me. Perhaps you could persuade your Council to buy a few boxes (on lower storeys, with Glorious Sand-hill views, preferably, they're gonna be hell to sell) out of the goodness of your hearts and the depth of your ratepayers' pockets. But tell me, is the notion of actually paying for them 'envisioned' in your Long Term Community Plan?

CCC: Er, um, not at this present juncture. For the Great Gull's sake, it was all we could do to save a few suburban libraries, let alone acquire expensive beachfront apartments at market prices. But (brightens up) perhaps you would like to donate one or two as part of - let's see - an Endangered Species Contribution?

ECD: Well, let's put that suggestion on, as we developers say, the Back Burner for now. Bit like your actual Plan, eh? Unlike our old houses, which we will leave, wink, wink, on the Front Burner.

And so, dear gullz, the ECD vision has come to pass. The Beachside Renters seem to keep getting trashed, then torched. It would be a brave gull who claimed that neither the ECD's nor the Clueless City Council were to blame.

Well, saves on D9 diesel expenses, it must be said. Pity about the actual ratepaying residents bringing up families next door.

And hey, look on the Brighton side! Lookit the Buskers! the Art! the Markets!

Why, Brighton's Revitalizing right in front of your eyes! (No, Do Not look south of Beresford Street on Marine Parade, Jonathon Seagull! That way lies Disillusion and Despair.)

A Cat called Isaac

Da, Da, there's a big yellow machine in the carpark with big rolly tracks and a long wavy arm, taking sand away from our beach!

Easy, there, Two Feets and one Beak (Can I call you TF for short?). Haven't seen you around since... since I helped your Mum out with that egg. That big yellow machine is...A Cat called Isaac.

Why's it shifting all that sand, Da?

Why, TF, because that there wind blown sand is just about to cover up a fence belonging to the Council.

Why's the Council worried about that, Da?

Because People park in the car park just above that fence, and they don't like gritty sand on their nice cars, TF. And the Council does own that car park, you know. It's one of the few bits of our beach that are actually Private Property. With a Title and all.

Lost you there in that last bit, Da, but there's lots of much higher sandy heaps just real close to the car parky bit. Why don't they take those instead?

Why, young TF, those other higher sandy heaps are Essential Tsunami Protection. And besides, they aren't Endangering Council Amenities. Just foo-barring nasty Developers plans for Towers and things. What's not to like, young TF?

But Da, if there really Is a Tsumani, won't the car parky bits and our favourite rubbish bins, be the first to get washed over? Being as how they are Rilly, Rilly low.

Good point, young TF. Perhaps the Tsunami bit is actually just a crock. Don't tell the other gulls, though - that would just get them all worried. The poor boobies think that there is Essential Tsunami Protection all the way along the whole coast. It's only us wise old gulls who know that there are more holes in that theory than, than, why, more holes than the ones they're digging in front of the Council Car Park!

Da, if the Council was being rilly, like, Consistent about this sand thingy, wouldn't they just sort of level the whole lot off a bit more? Why are they so worried about a few cars in parking lots, to the point where they carefully scrape off the little low lumpy bits in front of them, but leave the great big stonking heapy bits just a few wing beats south and north of the car parks?

Why, young TF, beats me. You can't really expect Rationality and Consistency from this Council, is all. But you wanna know the real joke, TF?

Da, you know your jokes just never fly....Sorry, couldn't resist. Oh, all right. I know you're going to inflict one on me anyway. Inflict away, Da.

Well, young TF, it goes like this. You know that some hopeless specimens Fine Upstanding Citizens don't want nasty High Towers in their little village. Despite the fact that most of these folk don't actually seem to own any property there. But the developers who own the property along the beachfront, they know they can only sell sea-view apartments. So, the joke is, young TF: the precious Council's determination to keep those big sandy heapy bits just as they are, is going to make those Developers ask for plenty of Extra Height to get those sea views....Just the opposite of what those FU... those citizens would want!

Da, that's not actually a joke. That's a Perverse Outcome, and that Council lot should be ashamed of their part in it, surely. They should offer the Cat called Isaac to unheap those heapy bits and then make those Developers settle for less height, and keep everyone happy. Even those smelly hippies Conscientious Objectors?

'Fraid that won't fly, young TF. Nanny Council knows best. The Sandy Heaps will stay as long as they do.

But Da, we are allowed to Spot the Cat, aren't we?

Of course, TF, of course. 'Tis a Gullz Right!

A Gap appears on Marine Parade

Ever on the scrounge for Fast Food, your snoopy Gull scribe was flying lazily down Marine Parade the other day. Normally, this strip (which has been heard to be described, shurely in a jocular manner, as 'the jewel in the Crown of Christchurch') gives good pickings. Because, you see, the old houses lined up here, especially south of the mall, have all been bought by developers and are awaiting.... well, development, I suppose.

Anyhoo. Where was I? Oh yes, these old houses can't be developed just yet, it seems, because the stupid Council hasn't got it's Plan into gear to allow it. So, how to turn a dime from those old, un-maintained houses, you wonder, as a developer watching the interest bills on the purchase price mount up and up?

Why, you rent them to, shall we say, the less discriminating sector of renters. That's not, by the way, what most actual ratepaying residents call this crew. We have learnt some choice new words, I can tell you!

But the inevitable has happened, as it always does. One of these old houses has gone up in smoke - the very smoke I saw when flying down the Parade. Bound to happen, eh? Rent a shack which everyone in the whole town knows the owner will never ever maintain, to the Great Gull Above knows who, for who knows what purpose, and then stand around gawping in wonder when the whole thing burns to the ground. And then the Stoopid Councillors come and stand around and blame the landlord for not maintaining the shack!

Talk about confusing Cause and Effect! The Council has just circulated a notice to ratepayers about a Planning Nimprovements Meeting, which was approved by the last Council, 'early last year'....That's 14 months ago. I've had another generation of Cute Gullz in that time! No wonder the developers are a bit down in the mouth. At this rate, they'll be able to fire up the Cat D9, oh, around 2015 or so.

That's 10 more years of rent-a-scum inflicted on the permanent residents of this Jewel in Christchurch's Crown! But (hee hee) look at it my way. 10 more years of Glorious Pickings from this same rent-a crew, who, surprise surprise, are none too particular about disposing of their rubbish.

But the final kicker is this: that house I saw burning down was my very Favourite pickings place. The best week-old chips, plenty of mice to harry, even the occasional rat on a good day. A little bit of fun has gone out of my Gullish life.

The Road is here (and so is yet more Albanian Concrete bunker design...

Your faithful gull scribe must hear record her deep disappointment at the way this road has turned out.

For starters, there were no bodies lying in front of construction machinery. We had heard from our country gull cousins about just how scrumptious a cast sheep could be. Imagine how tasty the softer bits of a cast human would be! We certainly had our hopes up.

But, despite looking every day at our Slow Road during construction, flying in low, swooping circles, and using our patent Night GullVision specs, there just weren't any such bodies. Perhaps the noisy humans who had promised to do this, just didn't mean what they said? Who knows? But we went hungry (at least until we remembered the back of the Chinese chippie...)

And the advent of all those cars, constantly going up the road has really changed our feeding patterns. We used to be able to hover round those funny humans who sat on benches all through the old Mall, talking to themselves, throwing food around, leaving shiny things for our magpie friends to sort through. Most other humans seemed to actually avoid them - don't know why, they may have smelt funny but that food! But these funny humans seem all to have decamped, along with their food. And once again, gullz go hungry.

It must have something to do with the cars - all those humans looking out the windows - maybe those other humans just felt too observed or something? Some do, you know: just try flying over one of those pairs of humans on the dunes, and they go all aggro and throw things at us.

Whatever, the Slow Road and the new Mall may be a Nimprovement for humans (at least, for the majority, can't please 'em all, you know) but it's a minor Feeding Disaster for gullz. Even the new Subway, which we had so looked forward to, is so clean and tidy, there's just no pickings there at all!

But I must confess that it is fun to see how the new parking spaces have turned out. The Planner Humanz seem to have chosen a Bunker as their design guide for the planters around the parking spaces, as the hard stuff they put around them is about two gullz high. You should hear what some of the parking Humanz have to say when they ease into their chosen spot, and wipe out their tyres, wheel alignments and side panels on these high, hard sides, often all at once! We certainly learnt some new bad words. And those white bunker sides are getting all black from these scrapes - a sure sign of dopey design, according to our old Uncle Theodore.

But gullz, unlike Council Bureaucratz, are adaptable beasts. Deprive us of food here, and we fly around and find it there. We've survived quite well enough to report it to you, our dear readers, after all. But those planters, they're built like - bunkers. They'll be there for a while. Wonder if gullz can take up panelbeating or run a wheel alignment shop? Hmm, another Brighton Business Opportunity! The Council did say they needed more. Not altogether sure this is what they had in mind, though.

Oh well. The Law of Unintended Consequences strikes again. That's life.