Sunday, 23 November 2008

OPINION: The tale of the Car Monkeys

The tale of the Car Monkeys

Once upon a time in the leafy lanes of Orokonui, spring branches
dappled the shade in the breeze and the benevolent residents sighed
contentedly. The first spoonbills stretched across the estuary and the
flax blades shone. The residents put down their tea mugs, shirked on
their jackets and poled out the door to their wagon.

But something was awry. In place of the wagon, was a gap, and far away
in a lonely ditch, it sat askew and dejected. They went and got it.
They were glad that it wasn't broken but the residents were confused,
because they didn't know what they had done to deserve their wagon
running away. They must have upset the car-monkey gods, who now were
playing mean tricks on them.

The benevolent residents felt sad and began to sing a song, which went
like this 'Oh Mr Car-Monkey, Why did you have to pick on me, And take
my car from Orokonui, And leave it in a ditch? Why did you put on rap
music? We really think it's crap music, Please leave it on National
Radio.' It wasn't a very good song but it made them feel a bit better.

The benevolent residents settled back into their ways, and grew some
carrots and began to feel a little better. The sky changes from grey
to white to blue and all the colours in between and back again. The
blossoms came and fell and the gorse flowers made everywhere smell of
Hawaiian Tropic sun lotion.

One morning, a little further down the road, some benevolent residents
of Orokonui put down their tea mugs, shirked their jackets and poled
out the door to their wagon. But something was awry. The wagon wasn't
on the drive way, it was on the road, and facing the wrong way, and
parked shamefully badly. The benevolent residents were confused,
because they didn't know what they had done to deserve their wagon
running away. They must have upset the car monkey gods, who now were
playing mean tricks on them. They began to sing a song. 'Oh Mr
Car-Monkey, you probably think that I'm silly, to leave my car in
Waitati, ready for you with the key, but it was up my drive way! Oh,
Mr Car-Monkey, why did you have to pick on me, you took my chocolates
my not my manuka tea. What's wrong with the tea? It wasn't a very good
song but it made them feel a bit better.

The benevolent residents, feeling bitten but not twice shy, because
they knew they lived in a loving neighbourhood, surrounded with
benevolent neighbours, settle back into their ways. The long-tongued
bees arrived and the broad beans threatened a proud glut. Pigeons
swayed on telephone lines.

One morning, a little further back up the road, some benevolent
residents of Orokonui put down their tea mugs, shirked their jackets
and poled out the door to their wagon. But something was awry. The
wagon had all of its inside panels pulled apart. The benevolent
residents were confused, because they didn't know what they had done
to deserve their wagon shedding its insides. They must have upset the
car monkey gods, who now were playing mean tricks on them. They began
to sing a song. 'Oh, Mr Car-Monkey, Why won't you hear my plea? That
ipod was given to me, for Christmas by my Mummy. And you like rap, not
The Grateful Dead. Oh, Mr Car-Monkey, it's not like in a movie, you
know that you won't get far, if you don't know how to hotwire a car,
so don't pull it apart in the first place.

It wasn't a very good song, but it made them feel a little better and
as they sung it, all of the other benevolent residents came out into
the lane, and the sun broke through the clouds and shone in broken
wonder through the leaves, and it was like a old school Disney movie,
and only Julie Andrews was missing as they joined in chorus to sing
together 'Oh Mr Car-Monkey, we beg for you to hear our pleas, we know
that we should, lock out cars in this neighbourhood. But sometimes we
forget. Oh Mr Car-Monkey, why do you have to pick on me, please be
benevolent and you should, and if you want to steal cars go to a posh
neighbourhood.'

by Lucy Jack

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