Dave Mollard: Change is constant but Longburn is the same

The Municipal Opera House as seen from Ashley St shortly before demolition in 1996. Photo / Ian Matheson City Archives

Opinion:

Growing up in Palmy was an adventure. It was licking the plate of a banana split in the birthday carriage at Harvey's Restaurant, losing to my sister at mini golf by the Esplanade, donating 50 cents to Telethon in the Rainbow Stadium.

It was booing the giant magpie at a Ranfurly Shield parade, discovering Luke Skywalker at the State Theatre and recreating the Death Star scene by playing space invaders at Gibbs burger bar. A highlight was the twice-a-year pilgrimage to the Britannia restaurant where we risked losing our fingers in the 1930s cage door elevator, we helped ourselves to as many hot chips as our plate could hold, accompanied by an over-cooked steak.

Palmy was like a comfortable jacket. Something I knew well and was always there when I needed it but, like that jacket, my city's elbows wore out.

I was 18. I knew more than my parents, coaches and teachers. So, I packed up my one bag and left to join the navy. I didn't return until I was almost 40 with a wife and two small children beside me and a realisation that the older I got, the less I knew.

Like everything in life, my hometown changed while I was gone and continues to change every day. I wrote a list of everything in this town that has stayed the same through both my occupations and here it is:

The Regent Theatre and Longburn!

That's it! I almost added the lagoon, but the island has gone and the willows on the other side have been replaced by mansions in our own provincial version of Herne Bay, Fendalton or Oriental Bay.

The rich still live in Hokowhitu and the poor in Highbury, but the rich now have automatic gates across their driveways to protect their hybrid SUVs and the poor have stayed poor but now Coke and white bread are cheaper than milk and wholegrain bread while the Holden Commodore slowly rusts away on the front lawn.

Most of the changes are positive, instead of riding my BMX in the wasteland down by the river, I now ride a mountain bike along the Bridle Path. The Square is no longer a no-go zone after dark and the train ride at the Esplanade is twice as long! Our library used to feel like it was designed by Soviet-era architects, now it is a wonderful reflection of our vibrant lives in Manawatū.

We now have a plethora of dining options - from Cambodian cuisine to bubble tea. We embrace multiple cultures, multiple sexualities and multiple brews of craft beer. We do not call our elders Mr or Mrs any more and we call our mayor and prime minister by their first names.

Pizzas are only $5 when they used to be $20. The quality of stockcar racing has never been better, as too the quality of service station pies.

It's not all better, our train station looks like a Gulf War movie set, we often do not know our neighbours, and can you even buy cola popsicles any more? Our rugby team does not win very often, the Britannia restaurant elevator is no longer around to threaten small children's appendages and why, oh why, did we tear down the Opera House?

Through all these changes the attitude of the people has remained the same. Quietly proud of living in a city with loads of resources, yet nothing is more than a 12-minute drive away.

Palmerston North was my first home and maybe it will be my last.

• Dave Mollard is a Palmerston North community worker and social commentator.