Rude Auckland Gaped at Visitor In Plus Fours

Sun (Auckland), Volume I, Issue 172, 11 October 1927, Page 13

Rude Auckland Gaped at Visitor In Plus Fours

Mr Clarke Irvine is in Philistine Camp LETTER TO HONOLULU “Clarke Irvine finds wife in New Zealand, but that’s about all he likes there." jVTR. CLARKE IRVINE, who toured New Zealand as manager of that remarkable moving picture, “The Birth of a Flower,” retired recently (temporarily, it is hoped), to holiday in the Wai taker es. The average Aucklander or New Zealander has apparently not adapted himself to Mr. Clarke Irvine who, in a letter to friends in Honolulu, published in the Honolulu “Advertiser,” under the headings quoted, has “written up” the defects of Mew Zealand life. Mr. Irvine begins with the explanation that an American traveller overseas is apt to be critical because he is used to the best of everything and is not satisfied unless he gets it. Mr. Irvine met trouble on landing. This is his account of it: “SO PROVINCIAL" “While Auckland is a metropolis of over 150,000, it is perhaps more provincial than the smallest Mew York hamlet, for when we landed from the great liner Aorangi (with the Shultises of Los Angeles), I wore plus fours, or knickers, and a white sweater. Later, as we walked up the main thoroughfare after settling at our hotel, I was looked at from ail sides and they even stopped to gape and laugh out aloud! “We stopped at an orange drink place, and before we finished our hot drinks there was a small crowd gathered on the curb to gape and yap—yet they advertise this as a tourist' country—and then laugh, humiliating a couple, when tourists come here! “Aucklanders are no slouches when it comes to keeping the Sabbath,” says Mr. Irvine, “at least in home or on the ball field. They have their ‘Saturday night’ on Friday, when every place stays open, and the shoppers get their arms full—many a drunk is out, for Friday is pay-day—and then on Saturday they close up tighter than the big iron vault in the Bishop Bank deposit room. Everyone rushes from town, and by 1 p.m. the city is quiet as at 3 a.m. Sunday, no selling is allowed and not a store or movie is open, just churches and concert halls. “The populace in general remind me of a hive of bees or an army of ants — all working like mad, paying tribute and taxes, supporting their royal king and queen bees or ants —and saluting fighting and dying for the nation. “There is a lack of personality individualism, in the royal system I somehow do not like. Most of the men wear those little turn-over collars, trim suits, smoke pipes and are like peas in pods.

“Even the school children are un. formed until after grammar grades and they lack—seemingly at least—individuality. The herd instinct is present, waving flags, paying tribute, etc. Everywhere they have tea at 10.30 o’clock,' even in Government offices—but that’s far better, I guess, than sipping coco cola, gassy ice cream soda and sickly malted milk.” The currency system, radio licenses, stamp duty and exchange on cheques and cafe-au-lait have all disagreed with this American visitor, but he hits a shrewd blow on one point. “Advertising matter spoils the land scape in billboards, on stations of the Government railways, and ail over the municipal car lines, even to painted whisky ads. on the doors and windows. “It’s a far call from the cleanliness of Honolulu and the average American city beautiful. “Another queer thing is the lack of shoe-shine stands; all polish their own black boots.” The innocent remark, “I think I’ll compile a new dictionary and call it ‘Reverse English, or a Guide for Americans in English-speaking Lands.' ” seems an uncalled for attack on the language of carefully spoken Americans. Finally Mr. Irvine is goaded to desperation because the name of that particular metal was called “alu-min-yum,” instead of good American “aloomnumm.” Mr. Clarke Irvine recently gave an address on “Health in Business” to the Advertising Club. When he is asked to address another meeting he may take the subject: “Should New Zealand be Towed T Jp Against the Pacific Coast”—perhaps. Mr. Irvine has no complaint against his camp in the Waitakeres.