As follow-on to yesterday’s teaser, I was planning to do a semi-serious news report of the event.
Forget that; I’m just going to have fun. All of my serious genes seem to have expired from overwork along with fifty percent or so of my brain cells. Actually, it’s quite fun being whimsical and semi-brainless. One isn’t obliged to feel so horribly responsible all the time.
I received this invitation a day after the RSVP requirement. A quick phone call fixed that little faux pax. It cost me K977 for a return fare. Nobody was offering a reimbursement, so I didn’t press the matter. Still, it seems a little cheesy. I am a shareholder (albeit a tiny one) and I am a contributor of an article to the first issue of Our Way, the APNG in-flight magazine, and I am still rather handy with my fists, but I suppose that none of those salient facts are sufficient to warrant a free flight to Moresby. Okay, I’ll stop whining now.
Let’s get to the festivities.
There were plenty of free drinks and finger food plus a very nice, if broiling hot, venue in the VIP parking lot at Jackson’s Airport.
Also present were many of the beautiful people from the power centres where all of the string pulling happens.
Here’s a beautiful person with a cheery message on her back:
The cultural show was supreme. Afterwards, the name of the game was getting a photo for the family album:
I’ve already forgotten everybody’s names, so I won’t try to fake it. However, if I’m not mistaken, this is our Deputy Prime Minister:
A nice fellow next to me asked, “Do you trust that man?” Knowing next to nothing about politics and caring even less, I answered, “Well, I suppose that I would buy a used car from him.” He seemed to be satisfied with that.
By the way, why do so many politicians insist upon styling themselves as leaders ? I though that they are supposed to be representatives. It seems to me that there is a substantial difference. Do we need to be led? Are we sheep? Isn’t our need to have our interests represented? Maybe we have too much leadin’ and not enough representin’.
Bah-ah-ah-ah-ah! (That’s sheep-speak for, “Huh?”)
I will say that our Minister for Tourism and Culture (I think I got that right) is a handsome and very articulate young man – just the kind of fellow that infuses a soupcon of confidence in the future in this aging hippie expat.
He apologized for his shades and explained that he had been the recipient of a rather impolite poke in the eye at a basketball game. Here he is exposing the injury:
I wanted to talk to him, but I get all timid around powerful people.
All of the speakers were enthusiastic and compelling. Since I’m not doing names, let’s call this fellow The Balloon Guy and leave it go at that:
Here he is getting a present from another EIP (Extremely Important Person). Honestly, I can’t remember which one was the recipient and which one was giving it up, but the guy with the very presentable blue shirt and tie is unabashedly making aigris * on that beautiful copper garamut. * I wouldn’t mind having it myself, so I can’t blame him:
If memory serves me, this is the honcho supremo of Airlines PNG. If I’m wrong . . . well, somebody will correct me. People kept referring to him as The Man, so I can’t be far off:
He apologized for not being a great orator, but I think he really should stop doing that. I think that his delivery was clean and affable and his message was clear and crisp.
And, the message of the day was that there are more changes on the way. Most will welcome that message. Some will not. I think that we all probably know who will cheer and who will sob. Eventually, even the sobbers will come around.
There was nothing that I heard on Monday that did not encourage me.
Are the dark forces weakening? Is the future truly brighter?
All I can say is:
* For you foreigners, aigris (pronounced eye-grease ) is the Tok Pisin word meaning “to look at with greed or desire.” A garamut, (gar - uh - moot ) is a large drum, often over two metres long – technically, it’s a slit-gong. It’s also the name of the tree from which they are usually made.