Out Of A Hole In My Head

Hi! Strap on your seven-league galoshes, because Uncle Kookie's going to lay a little reading on you. Once in two weeks you will be able to dig the coolest columnist this side of Downbeat, with the Mother Goose Book for Hip Kids. Like Big Daddy in the Editorial Chair, I vote Blue. I dig Peter Sellers and Kenneth Horne, Dave Brubeck and M.J.Q., television, Audrey Hepburn and me. I don't dig the Reds, advertising movies, Aunt Daisy, Brigitte Bardot and loud noises . . .

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Up in Auckland, Big White Father Robinson takes space in local newssheet Auckland Star to say this: "Hear D. M. Robinson, Esq. (Mayor of Auckland). He will give you all the facts. He is working for Auckland. He and his Council support Democratic Auckland Government, not bureaucratic Wellington Dictatorship." With more of the same. Watch out, cats and chicks, for the day the Big Town secedes from the Dominion. Suggested name: Peoples' Democratic Republic of Auckland. Suggested Coat-of-arms: A Great Auk sitting on an egg. A bad egg. Like wow!

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What gives with Capital City newspapers? Morning effort (except for Inside Column) is usually the dullest, while Evening Post drags good coverage with typeface that's prehistoric. That layout bugs me—ads on first page, the facts on inside someplace, and assorted jazz on the back. "Post" masters, watch N.Z. Herald after Anzac Day, or Auckland Star now, for the coolest layout, easy print, good paper. Ever tried reading "Post" on a crowded bus?

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Even N.Z.B.S. has sense of humour—dig this programme, actually broadcast over certain station outside Wellington: Only Sixteen, One Night of Love, Get Me To The Church On Time, Shotgun Boogie, and Robbin' The Cradle.

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In British homes where a choice is avaiable, 89 per cent. of viewers take I.T.A. programme (privately owned) in preference to B.B.C. Local televisionaries take note.

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Mr Kitts and the Kittens don't love V.U.W. Yet that tram with poem in praise still trundles along. I would have thought he'd have had it suppressed.

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Seeing were're still cramped for space, why not buy up derelict trams and run them as V.U.W. Mobile Lecturing Dept.? Visualise frantic Charlie who has Just missed the 10 a.m. lecture from Lambton Quay and has to take a taxi to catch the repeat on its way back from Island Bay.

—Kookie.