Puppetry I really like this song. The rest of the album is honourable in its pedigree and influence but this song really stands out. I'm a sucker for the big, soaring orchestral backed-ballad, sure, but this has little bits of all kinds of late '60s pop in there while narrowly avoiding being retro pastiche which is a tricky thing to do. My hat's off.

Third Degree Burns By the Christ, you couldn't have predicted that. It's such a delicate subject and, well, Gest is involved. Oh dear.

Maisey Rika Sometimes on TV here, on the Maori Channel, you come across blinding flashes of great stuff - strong documentary footage primarily but occasionally good music. Last night at bed time, we tuned in to the Friday night karaoke contest (The Maori Channel is very under funded, generally) called "Homai Te Pakipaki" just in time to catch their special guest. Maisey Rika is a 25 year old kid (but a deep, old soul at the same time) from Whakatane, mother of one and my lord can this girl sing? Her voice is enormous - a wavering, delicate effortless thing weaving in and out of Arabic trills and classic soul-isms as if the two entities had always lived together. And she has a social conscience - the song was "Children Of Romania" written after she'd seen a segment on the news about the plight of orphans in Romania. Can you believe this girl is not huge? She doesn't even have a deal, it appears. the chances of that lasting are remote, surely. Here is Maisey, in her bedroom with her pal Scruph on guitar. Oh I hope they are careful not to over produce her or fit her into a style to market more easily. This needs delicacy.Her message when the host thanked her and praised her work was so beautifully simple "No need to thank us, we're just the messengers."

Platonic But Chronic A number of months back, we would walk daily past the makings of a new Greek restaurant up the street here called "Plato's Greek Taverna". TSO and I shared many a gag about the prospects for the place - fuelled mainly by the lighting set-up. Around the front entrance of this place, upon which someone was obviously spending a lot of money, were an array of recessed LED lamps that were always turned on, even at that stage of construction. They were the type that sort of throb away, changing colour steadily. Seriously - studded around the front door jamb, recessed into the concrete with brass fittings, so a lot of effort. Someone was sure about the idea of having each customer washed in a ghastly pale light as they entered the place. We reckoned that anyone that would green-light such a terrible idea had no place in the restaurant industry whatsoever and that the place was sure to be utter shite. Imagine how we howled a few weeks back when the first reviews started pouring in and they were universally scathing. People didn't just not like this restaurant, they fucking detested it. They wished it harm. One we read in one of the weekend supplements was hilariously Wildean in its put-downs. This one from the Herald, whilst also not good, is positively philanthropic by comparison. I started to feel sorry for the place and thought that maybe these reviews were the result of the reviewing community merely sticking together on a fixed opinion. These online independent opinions, however, seem to bear out that Plato's does truly appear to offer a poor value for your Souvlaki dollar. I thought things had hit an all-time low for Plato and his taverna. Then, yesterday in the papers, we read that Tongan rugby giant, the great Jonah Lomu has had to run the beleaguered chef to the ER after he's lopped his own fingertip off! Buried at the end of the article is the nugget of information that the chef is part of an apparent huge bloodletting as a result of the reviews. Looks like they machine-gunned the kitchen at least for the initial rush of ill-will when they opened their doors. I'm watching Plato's carefully. I might even go in there and eat though after my beloved Berlin Greek food haunt "Ach Nico Ach", everything else is but a philosopher's spectre.

She-Cars
There's a dawning realization within me about the trend of re-issuing classic cars. Have you noticed that they instantly become a girl-car? The New Beetle, (which I've recently discovered is referred to in the US as a "Ladyug" - bearing out my theory) - how often do you see a guy driving one? I've noted that from the start. The original beetle was very much a people car(despite this, which is fine, and even this here) and even the ones you still see around are driven as often by men as women and young people. Why, then would he re-make instantly become a car for Triple L's (Leathery Ladies who Lunch)? Then the same became apparent of the new Mini - I saw a few guys in the higher end ones at first but quickly they also became very largely the domain of the fairer sex.

The latest one, I've noted this week, is the re-issued Fiat 500 (Bambina). I'm able to actually witness the transformation here though. There's a cafe on Ponsonby Road called Bambina that is popular with cashmere-bedecked and shirtneck-open people of a certain age. Now the Cafe predates the car release but I noticed that either the owner has bought one, perhaps as a promotional device, or a regular customer drives his there every morning. I've seen him, a long, tanned, bald-headed, pearly-toothed devil prizing himself out of the little red compact a few times now on my morning walks, right out front of the place. And, you know, I try and make allowances and think of the environmental good he's doing but there's no getting around it, he cuts a ridiculous figure. He just needs to be a woman, it's simple, really.

and it's a funny thing, for I don't hate the way any of these cars look, quite admire them in fact, but I just can't see me driving one - it's no use, they're down indelibly in my psyche as chick-mobiles already. And let the record show that I am a fan of the original beetle, had two, restored one, passed my driving test in one. I've had heaps of other small cars and never felt up nor down about it.

I read with interest that the obviously newly-formed Bambina Owners' Club of Auckland had a drive out from Bambina Cafe whereupon "after coffee on the strip, Lynne Parker (from Occhiali Optical) and six other owners then drove to Matakana to visit Morriss and James followed by lunch at Heron's Flight Winery. Lynne told Ponsonby News that "although the weather wasn't great, we had a fantastic day meeting all the other Bambina owners, especially when Continental Cars had prepared a small quiz to test our knowledge on facts about this incredible small car". Tell you what I wouldn't mind being signed up for the next one.

But whether it's the advertising that is targeting ladies because they control the purse strings or just the appeal of not-really-nostalgia but take a look - the re-release car becomes a girl's car within about a month of release. You'll see what I mean once you start to take note.