BEFORE I START.
 

   Before I start, I'd just like to say, it seems really weird to be writing about myself but if you’re on this page obviously you’re interested. So I’m really going to go for it. My name is Paul and I was born in The Bay of Plenty, New Zealand. I am in my early 50's and before all you young people out there decide to leave, I'd just like to say I'm not so different from you. Let me explain.  Sure my body's ageing and there's those wrinkles, I certainly can't do a lot of the things I used to do with as much vigour anymore but the thing is my brain still thinks I'm 20 and is always surprised when I look in the mirror to discover I'm not. Obviously there are a number of differences between us other than the physical, I no longer feel the need to party which actually is a relief. I have a lot more stories and life experience. I’ve been lucky enough to find a beautiful partner and have found relative financial security. The one thing we do have in common is, I have been where you are. Obviously everyone's journey is different, but ultimately I know the struggle. Yeah, now you can go if you want young people. To all remaining people, kia ora, g'day, hola, salut, kon’nichiwa, ni hao, etc,etc. And to you old people, who made it to old, congratulations, it’s something to be celebrated. How's it going you old bastards? How’s your back. Mine is stuffed. 
As I said I was born in The Bay of Plenty, New Zealand. I had a very happy childhood. My mum immigrated from the U.K. with her husband and my big brother. Unfortunately her first husband died, but fortunately for me she then found my dad. My mum is now in her 90's and is onto her fourth husband, outlived three. We call her the Black Widow. Anyway I grew up in a relatively poor area but my parents saw that I never went without anything. I had a large amount of friends from quite diverse backgrounds, Maori, Islanders, European and more but to me they were all kiwis. I never realised the struggles they faced at the time, they were just friends. I'd like to take a moment just to mention a little girl named Agnes. I'm not sure if she was Maori or Islander, but all I knew at the time was she was smelly, dirty and didn't have any friends. While I was at primary with her she died of pneumonia. I wish I'd been her friend. I've never forgotten her and just wanted to mention her name. Agnes. Withstanding what has already been said as a white, heterosexual male I'm not sure I can truly pretend to understand others struggles against prejudice and search for identity whatever form that may take but I would like to say I know these struggles are real but I wish they were not. I do however understand struggle, even with all the advantages I have had, so I can only imagine what it would be like for people with all these extra barriers in their way. 
 

 

 

FAST.
   

   When I was young I discovered quite out of the blue I was fast. This actually shaped my life for much of my childhood. Yes I did art from a young age and was quite good at it, but no one really cared about my art. But being fast I travelled to meets and showed off my abilities. I got recognition. The funniest thing happens when you’re fast, people equate that with toughness, or maybe it's respect, I'm not sure, no one ever messed with me though which was good cause I certainly wasn’t tough. The only real fight I think I had was when I was in my teens with my brother. He was nine years older than me, from my mum’s first marriage, never thought of him as anything but a full brother though. I can’t imagine what losing your dad at such a young age could do to you. I tell you he definitely is an original. He has always reminded me of David Cassidy from the Partridge Family. Young people look it up. Anyway, this fight didn’t go well for me. Years of being used as a foot stool and being woken up when he came home drunk meant I lost it. Unlucky for me he remained totally in control and while I was spraying my arms around willy nilly in a craze, he was selecting strategic punches. To this day I have a scare over my eye from his ring that he takes great pleasure in pointing out every time we have a few drinks together. What can I say he’s my big brother and I love him. Speed is an amazing thing, even though I wasn't really a skilled sports person, I was automatically seen as good at a lot of sports because of it. My best result in athletics’ was a New Zealand record in the 200 metres, under 16 age group , which I had for all of 3 minutes until some dude bet it in the next heat, so typical. I loved athletics’ it was painful but great fun, there’s a surprising amount of vomiting going on, over exertion and nerves. The best part was my dad came everywhere with me. Everyone loved my dad, unassuming and friendly, he was this big man with a round belly, piercing blue eyes and was always a rich brown colour, as he had worked outdoors all his life. Our trips were awesome. Unfortunately as I got older my natural ability slowly was trumped by others who trained and I also became more interested in girls. Eventually I had to do the hardest thing I've ever done. Let my dad know that that part of my life was over. I'm sure he was disappointed but he understood and I think he had been expecting it for a while. Another big part of my youth was working. It's funny, being fast actually help me again with this. It made me a very good milk boy, and in high demand. I was well suited to hanging off the back of the truck, sprinting up to letter boxes and sprinting back to the truck. Also doing these long runs delivering milk, pushing a trolley with six crates of milk on it, whilst the truck went elsewhere. It's amazing to think we were allowed to hang off the back of the truck while it speed around, leaping off while it was still going. Nowadays if someone saw a kid doing that someone would probably report it to the cops as child abuse. Being a milk boy was very important for a number of reasons, it gave me money later on to buy alcohol, but also this was my first contact with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen, Jackie. I remember the first time I saw Jackie, it wasn't on the milk run but at the milk depot. I was about 14 and saw this beautiful girl with long curly blondish hair, in a red, white and blue striped jacket riding past on her flash 10 speed. Never did I in my wildest dreams think that one day I would marry her.

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