Latest posts by Martin Moodie (see all)
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I am starting to worry about my home country…
Not only did it throw away the last Rugby World Cup at the quarter-final stage despite possessing arguably the most brilliantly talented team in the history of the game.
But it also rejected (out-of-hand) an approach to buy Auckland Airport by Dubai Aerospace Enterprise that would have transformed the fortunes of the New Zealand tourism industry (and economy) with thrilling speed; and now – oh the shame – the country’s national airline is offering bald, yes bald, travellers cash, yes hard cash, to use their heads, pates, cue balls (call them what you will, I as a follically challenged male have heard it all over the past three decades) as advertising billboards…
Yes that’s right. In a gesture of what can only be termed bald cheek, national carrier Air New Zealand is seeking travellers prepared to use their heads (oh, if only the All Blacks had done so last October) in a new advertising campaign.
The airline reportedly wants 70 recruits to wear temporary tattoos on the back of their heads as they stand in queues at three of the country’s airports. The tattoos will – wait for it – promote a new system that is meant to reduce check-in times.
It’s the aviation sector industry’s equivalent of rugby’s radical ELVs (experimental law variations). If only BAA had thought of this earlier – all those nightmare post-August 10, 2006 queues would never have happened. Or at least not on any occasion when a lot of bald travellers were moving through the airport.
Actually this brings back certain undignified memories. A few years ago, when The Moodie Report Publisher was playing in the annual Cannes rugby ‘international’ – in which an aging, unfit, hungover and completely crocked rest of the world team routinely thrashed a suave, ridiculously good looking, coiffured and highly scented French outfit – a certain Peter Sant of Remy Cointreau did indeed suggest sponsoring a well-known industry pate during the match.
After all, his most famous brand and my first name had much in common. And I was about as old as the blend in a bottle of Louis XIII (below) – though a fair bit cheaper. It seemed a natural fit.
Alas the deal fell apart, as so many duty free negotiations do, through sheer greed.
Yes, it was revealed that the said Mr Sant felt there was sufficient room on the Moodie pate not just to promote Remy Martin, but in fact the entire Remy Cointreau portfolio…