Robyn Anderson

If it hadn’t been for the honour awarded to my former boss (and mentor) and the nice woman at the gym who got a QSM, I’d have given a rant here about the stupidity of the Honours System. Who wants a country – particularly one the size of ours, full of Dames and Sirs I would say, but I think now that we have a socialist Labour govt our honours are being awarded on merit, not on the amount of money accrued (and kept) over a life time or the number of ‘awesome’ try’s or world cups a sports person has produced. When we lived in England, some young woman sailed single-handedly around the world. It was impressive but she had satnav and state of the art communications. Had she been in trouble, she would have undoubtedly been plucked from the ocean before she got cold or her skin went white and wrinkly. This poor woman’s feet were barely back on terra firma and she was kneeling for her Damehood.  I wonder how that affected her? How many things did she not do because she was Dame whoever and didn’t want to be making an ass of herself? That’s one thing about me not getting a gong. I have total liberty to make as much of an ass of myself as I like. And I frequently do. It’s hard enough, I think, being me without having to cart a load of other people’s expectations along for the ride.  At least that’s what I tell myself. When I miss out again.