Untrustworthy

When I was about 14, sometime between the Springbok Tour and the election of the fourth Labour Government – in the very last days, in fact, of the old New Zealand – my father gave me three pieces of advice. I don’t remember the occasion, but Dad’s rules for life have stayed with me.

The first piece of advice – always reverse into a park – was hypothetical, because I wasn’t yet old enough to drive a car.

The second was related to the first: never