Some of my best friends are old white guys. I'm a daughter and sister of old white guys.
I shacked up with a latte-coloured one from South America (but he was the whitest of his cuzzies) and I've got nothing against old white guys because I grew up with them.
Michelle Boag is the quintessential OWG. I'd change the letters up and call them wogs - but people might get offended, even if I meant nothing by it.
You always know when you're dealing with OWG muck-ups when they roll out the doyenne of the National Party machine. Ponytail pulling? No problem.
A housing misstep with Bill English or an embarrassing Saudi sheep farm that no one but the guys we gave it to thought they needed?
Michelle will wave her magic wand of wonderful words and soothe it into a palatable paste of the master plan of happiness and good times for all.
Once we've been de-hypnotised from her crop dusting of PR fertilising pixie dust we might feel ill and the need to take a shower - but we'll know it's all been a fun and instructive journey.
If one were trying NOT to sound like an old white guy - you perhaps should avoid Boag - because in PR (public relations) land everyone knows where she's been.
I'm not being rashust or anything, but how come old white guys like Boag and Co find it difficult to understand that being casually racist sounds like a case of the "the dog ate my homework".
Is it because their brains are smaller or is it a deficit of good parenting in their younger years? Does formal racism come with armbands and segregated areas and is casual racism just what you can get away with when your world view has become illegal?
The problem is the rest of the world - and that would be a fairly mochaccino-coloured one if we really want to do the numbers - never received the white guys' manifesto that said, "I hereby declare that from this day forthwith you shall own the world and everything in it and if anyone gets in the way make tricky laws or go to war with them, annihilate their families and set up an outpost in their hood."
The multi-coloured, globalised young people born post-1990 didn't really get why one group got to dictate anything.
Here, those born after 1970 can give thanks to the consistent effort of a very small group of people handing the baton on through four or five generations, who lived long enough to remind the nation we had a Treaty and we might want to go back to the founding document that created a nation we could be proud of.
Post-Brexit and pre-Trump it feels like the OWGs are feeling sad and threatened.
It would be easier if they stopped - just for a second - sounding like a lame order of single shot, decaf flat whites, pointless and without good taste.