The following is one of the earliest columns I produced for Column 8. It was published on the 14th November, 1990. Paul Holmes was a well-known broadcaster with strong opinions; Richard Prebble was at this time an MP.
Apologies
An apology, on air, was demanded.
I didn’t catch the apology, but it took 38 pages recently
from the Broadcasting Standards Authority to say that the aforesaid apology
didn’t appear genuine.
Though at times Mr Holmes can open a festering wound to
great effect, his usual approach to things that come within firing range is to
shoot them down with both barrels. Fast.
So I can’t say I’m surprised at any lack of sincerity.
The BSA felt our beloved Paul was experienced enough to be
capable of apologising on television, without making it look as though he didn’t
mean it!
Are you with me?
Apparently it’s all right to apologise and not mean it – as long
as you don’t show you don’t mean it.
The report reminded me of an incident in my shop recently. I
hope a certain little boy’s mother won’t object to my mentioning it.
I’ll apologise in advance – though in view of what I’ve been
saying about Mr Holmes above, my apology may not appear to have much substance.
We have a toy box in the shop to occupy small children while
their parents are browsing. The young man in question, a pre-schooler, became attached
to a small wheel-shaped article with little suction caps around the perimeter.
As the toy is of no great value to us, I should have paid
attention to my instincts and told him to take it home.
His mother spied something she wanted, and bought it. Having
done so, they left, and I thought nothing more about the little toy. Some minutes
later, there was something of a hullaballoo at the door. The boy and his mother
had returned. She placed the little suction toy on the counter.
The youth was red-faced, and in great fury at having to
return the ‘stolen’ toy. His mother asked him what he was going to say to The
Man.
His lips clamped shut, and he looked ready to explode. His mother
repeated her request. No response except that he backed off a little.
I should have been warned.
His mother asked him once more to say what he was supposed
to say, and he said it.
It came out like a blast from a factory whistle at knock-off
time. ‘SORRRRRRYYYYY!!!!!’ Amazing that such a little fellow could produce so
much noise.
I think even Queen Victoria on her pedestal across in the
Gardens might have been shaken. (Shaken but not amused.) Certainly a number of
leaves fell off the trees.
The lad vanished behind a stack of books, and I heard him
mutter in a rather disgusted tone, ‘Sorry…sorry!’
His mother looked at me blankly. ‘I don’t think he means it,’
she said.
After reading about Paul Holmes, I think the little fellow
was in famous company.
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| Statue of Queen Victoria, Queens Gardens, Dunedin Courtesy Lisa Watkins, Wikimedia Commons |
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