Country Living – Fury over fuel

Folks, she’s a pretty sad day when my shopping list-making skills start to surpass my creative writing skills. The price of fuel has forced me to adorn my fridge with lists and sends me into a panic attack if I leave home without them. Myself, and every other northern Rodney resident I know must now be completely conscious about every kilometre they travel in their cars and the family tiki tour on the weekend will soon only be read about in the pages of our social history for many struggling families. My car is now reaching $200 to fill up and I can get a handful of trips into town. I am reaching the point whereby I would rather come face to face with an axe wielding serial killer than fill up at the service station.

The tax-and-spend mentality of Auckland Council is decimating the family budgets of the working class poor. I am now aware of many families commuting from northern Rodney and paying the toll, who have wiped any resemblance of family luxuries to keep gas in the car. Many of these people have been forced into these areas to avoid city rents and now the price of fuel for the commute to work has wiped out any cost saving they made. They must now sling their legs out of bed every morning and drive the long haul to work, watch their fuel gauges bend backwards, dreaming of a toll-free inner-city life where a tank of gas lasts a month and their office chair and chai latte is only a train ticket away.

Even blind Freddy can see that these good men and woman who have access to the least, yet pay the most, are underpinning central city luxuries. The new working class poor are the engine room of this country and they are getting smashed! The burden needs to be taken off these people and placed back on to the ones that have direct access to the infrastructure and facilities that these taxes are providing for. If my 21-year-old who lives in Ponsonby is bold enough to recognise this, I fail to see why our elected representatives cannot! These “engine room” folks are running out of gas to keep the cheque book cogs of Auckland Council running, let alone make it down to the Viaduct to soak up the glamour.

So, I say this to the Mayor, “Don’t you dare sit there in your left-leaning chair and pretend to be the ‘Prince to the Poor’ because, quite frankly, you are aiding and abetting this new-found working class poverty. If any of us have to hear another elected representative spew out some vile “you chose to live there” or “we have no money” we are going to scream. This sort of junk-speak is a bit rich from where we are all driving and, to be honest, is so boring has me like … zzzzzzzzzz … falling to sleep in my morning porridge. If you would like some help with ideas on how to curb excess spending and live within a budget, I am a fairly creative type and am here to help. Otherwise, I know a working class father from Warkworth who is mighty fine at wielding a hedge trimmer and cutting back excess.

Julie Cotton