The Bean Chronicles

Hunter has been quite busy in recent weeks, which means I have, by default, also been quite busy and so some of these events went completely un-blogged. C'est la vie, we can catch up now.

The little man had his first round of immunization jabs a few weeks back. After reading up on the whole immunization debate I found that I had not really landed on one side or the other in the argument - at least not passionately enough to object to Mama's plans. While I'm not entirely sure it was/is the right way to go, it does not seem to have had any immediate negative effects of Das Bean, except for causing him to make this face for a good 48 or so hours:

Hunter also had his first party a little while back, thrown by Andrea (I was going to say 'his Grandmother', but none of the grandparents have decided what they want to be called for fear of sounding old, narcissistic lot.) Some of the more traditional attendees had delusions of this being some kind of christening *chuckle* or 'naming ceremony'. Apparently 'it's just a party' doesn't fly for some people.

But just a party it was, and a pretty decent one too - lots of booze and filled with people I didn't know at all. Andrea assures us that she was familiar with almost everyone there though, so that's nice.

Unfortunately Hunter wasn't in the party mood, overwhelmed almost instantly by the swell of well-meaning unfamiliar faces, he quickly descended into full-on spazz mode. Whisked away to an unoccupied bedroom, he spent the duration calming down, feeding, and sleeping. This left much of the revelers without a child to coo over (although I think some of them mistook another baby that had turned up for the child they were supposed to be celebrating.) Most were easily consoled with drink and food and promptly forgot why they had come in the first place.

On the whole it was very successful first party for everyone but Hunter. He's got the memory of a goldfish though, so I sincerely doubt this will colour him against festivities in the long run; we'll give it another shot down the road. You're all invited.


Last weekend Hunter also attended his first protest; a march down Queen Street as a show of solidarity for those arrested in 'Operation Eight', the ridiculous terror raids of October 15th last year. While the attempted charges under the terror act had to be dropped due to sheer absurdity, many people don't realize that those wrongfully arrested are still far from free - unable to abuse our reactionary terror laws, the police are now attempting to charge 20 indigenous and peace activists with arms charges; an achingly slow process that began on Monday.

(photos via Indymedia)

The march went well enough, a decent turn out with no trouble from either protester or police. I'm sure the event succeeded, to some degree, in its intended goal - to raise awareness and show support. But being there amidst the chants and hyperbolic speeches it was hard not to feel a little detached. The same old faces were there; hagged old Socialists handing out their crude propaganda and Big Daddy Minto barking on about ninjas (?) and 'police states' (as the cops helpfully made sure no one got hit by traffic as we marched.) It all felt so old and tired.


There were glimmers of the new buried under all that old timey bluster, however. Some of the younger Tūhoe supporters brought a great deal of energy to the party; so impassioned was their whooping that it seemed positively out of place amongst the drowsy '2-4-6-8' sloganeering of the shuffling SWO warhorses. There were also a bunch of young purple-clad anarchist kids (from Radical Youth I guess,) who brought along my absolute favourite part favour of the day; the wheelie bin sound system:


More of that, I say; action should be as much a celebration as it is a duty.

Finally, on the Sunday Hunter attended his first craft show. The inaugural Kraft Bomb seemed an incredible success - a handful of wonderful vendors crammed into a small room at Grey Lynn Community Center were completely swamped by attendees. We arrived at what was apparently a bit of a quiet spell and it was still nigh impossible to move. Mama bought herself a very swanky apron with pistols stitched on the pockets - I was hanging out for cupcakes but they sold out within 45 minutes of opening. Damn.


Well done to the lovely City for organizing the show, it's going to be a reoccurring thing so come by and check it out on the last Sunday of every month.

Now you're pretty much up to date; good for you. I'll try to stay on top of posting a little more often to avoid monster posts like this in future. Thanks for coming, take care now.