KEY POINTS:
I've been waiting for my phone to ring all week. I've been like an eager Charlie's Angel awaiting instructions. They would have gone
something like this: "Wendyl, Paul Holmes. I thought it would be rather nice if you could write something about me in your column this
weekend. I know
you've probably got some impossibly tedious update on the health of Marigold, your hen, who I understand has been poorly, or perhaps you were planning to bore us rigid with the state of your tiresomely retro caravan.
"I think we're all agreed it's my weekend in the paper this Sunday, so don't go over the top dear girl, but anything you can find to say to honour my wonderful years of broadcasting would be much appreciated. Bye for now, sweetheart."
But the call never came. Instead I have been forced to write about Paul
off my own bat, and it's not an easy bat to write off as I have for many years carried the black mark of being one of the first Paul Holmes stardeniers.
In 1989 I wrote the television review of Paul's first TV show for the New Zealand Herald and it began with these words: "The only problem with promoting a television show heavily is that, inevitably, the viewers' expectations are such that they are bitterly disappointed.
"The Holmes show need not have bothered promoting itself - we would have been disappointed anyway..." It went on to say that the Holmes show wasn't much cop. I was nearly fired due to the heated ministrations of its star and instructed by my editor in the interests of balance, and no doubt to shut Holmes up, to review it again a fortnight later. I still didn't like it much.
No matter. Within months I had left the Herald and was a lowly
freelancer while Holmes went on determinedly to make his mark as the
most-revered and accomplished broadcaster this country has ever seen.
Much has been said about Holmes' impact on New Zealand. But there is
really only one action which made me pause in my negative opinion of him
all those years ago, and that was Eve van Grafhorst.
The delicate little girl was infected with Aids by a blood transfusion and was banned from her local pre-school in Australia because of fears she might infect other children. She and her mother had moved to our country and Holmes took up their cause.
The sight of this man hugging and kissing Eve regularly in a climate
where fear of Aids contamination through bodily contact was rife did my
heart in.
It's called empathy and I don't know any other broadcaster who has it. The ability to reach out and touch someone, then somehow transfer that feeling to us as his listeners and viewers is a rare talent.
Throughout his career, Paul has empathised with everyone - from a
competition winner on his radio show to a dairy owner who was upset that a local kid swore at him and a criminal on the run. They were the moments we all lived to hear and watch.
Then I had a bit to do with him in the magazine world. I signed cheques
made out in his name and he did me the favour of talking about this and
that. The lunches we had while we did the deals were extremely enjoyable
and helped cement a friendship.
I didn't really care what he talked about because Paul, unlike other male stars in New Zealand, sells magazines.
The story of his first marriage, which ran in Woman's Day, is still, to my knowledge, the top-selling issue of any women's magazine in New Zealand.
Paul also used to ring me up occasionally when I had an exclusive he wanted. I was so charmed by the man who formerly tried to get me fired
that I shared the story of the infamous Ingham twins, who leapt off a ship and supposedly battled shark-infested waters to arrive safely on the coast of Australia.
I was charmed because in my history as a magazine editor I have never had a call from a television current affairs presenter doing his own
story-gathering. He's good like that.
Then there have been the Friday mornings. For the past seven years, the
phone has rung and it's been Holmes and another man at 8.15am on
NewstalkZB.
It's a remarkable menage-a-trois played out on the airwaves, where Holmes mostly tries to find out what I'm wearing and whether I have just had sex.
Last Friday Holmes didn't have to call because I sat next to him. I do hope he calls me again.