An "Ugh" in time.

"No act of kindness, no matter how small, is ever wasted." Aesop

'Ugh' has gone back to the Streets of San Francisco to recover from his year in New Zealand. His real name is Michael and he looks like a 1960's hippie with a pony-tail. He smokes a pipe with chocolate smelling tobacco. He's an electronic genius and writes books like, 'Don't Bug Me.' He can hack into computers and carries a gadget that picks up radio waves. Don't ask me why radio waves are so important. Visit his website and see for yourself.

He loved the slow NZ lifestyle and soon learned why Kiwis have no need to carry a Barretta for protection. He rented a two bedroom flat, slept in one and set up his three large suitcases of electronic mumbo-jumbo in the other. Some friends pitched in and sold him a double bed (for sexual emergencies) and I lent him some sheets, blankets and pots and pans etc. Thus, he was fully equipped to spy on the radio waves of the unsuspecting world. I called him Ugh because when he answered the phone all I got was 'Ugh!'

He read my columns on YellowTimes.org (now deceased) a few years back and contacted me by email. Then he arrived to fulfill his lifetime's ambition of visiting NZ. I tried to arrange a marriage so he could stay here but the lady I suggested had oversized boobs. Coupled with Ugh's protruding stomach, they never managed to get close enough to make meaningful contact.

He rarely went further than the local bar and supermarket but would ring if he wanted to go
into Wellington to purchase some more electronic gadgets. He described himself as an
apprentice vegetarian and rarely ate meat. TV was regarded as a corrupting influence and he refused my offer to lend him a set. Radio and computers were his game and he played all night and slept during the day. Ugh was happy doing what he wanted, and to him, that was all that mattered.

A ferry trip to the South Island and train to Christchurch to visit a friend was a welcome
highlight. A few weeks ago I took him to the local gliding club and he soared high above the green country side. Another lifetime ambition fulfilled. See the photos on his website.
Here

More intelligent than most, he was unable to find employment, although his skills were very
much in demand. This is usual in Godzone. A little more than sixty, he was too old to
employ or become a resident and despite being able to pay his way, was officially regarded as an alien and expendable. With his visa due to expire, he had to leave the country he came to love.

I have several boxes containing gadgets he purchased during his stay. Hopefully he can
utilise them in the future.

Now he's back in the society he despises. The political system, endless military invasions
and the escalating crime rate, does not appeal to Ugh. He loves the relative peace and quiet of Godzone. In a year he can return and it would be to NZ's financial advantage to let him stay. However, with government mimicking the American political and economic system, who can tell what the future will bring? With almost a million Kiwis living and working offshore and 600 leaving every week, things don't look good in the mortgaged land of earthquakes and volcanoes.

Good luck, Ugh.