By JULIE MIDDLETON
Where's the firebrand Jim Anderton of old? Where's the soapbox hustler, the aggressive TV debater?
Jim Anderton on the trail is his usual affable and vaguely pompous self - wow, can he ramble on - but the energy that he usually plugs into on the hustings seems elsewhere.
"Years of
practice," he chortles in response to a remark that he appears remarkably laid-back, given the date.
Arriving as minister to open a new Customs building in Mangere, Anderton has missed the sign propped in the window of a staffer's parked car asking: "Customs officers' wage increase in the last 10 years: 0%. What increase have you had?"
But the troops are looking mighty pleased with themselves as Anderton, accompanied by neat and petite Maori Queen Dame Te Ata, is welcomed into Customs' chilly concrete bunker with its demonstrations of shiny toys.
Anderton praises the multicultural makeup of the service - "a little like New Zealand will be in 30, 40, 50 years' time" - and the money he has cadged for it.
But drugs are today's pet subject. Maybe it's the juxtaposition to drugs dogs - or maybe it's an audience who can be transformed into votes.
"I just want to say there's no room for mixed messages about drugs in this country," says Anderton, without identifying the dope-decriminalising, anti-smoking Greens.
He is of absolutely no interest to the drugs dog that later takes a sniff of him.
The lunch pitstop is Manurewa. Anderton, also the Minister for Economic Development, tut-tuts at Southmall's plaintive rows of empty shops and chooses a sandwich at The Cave coffee lounge.
A gaggle of lunching women wearing Plunket nametags whisper and point. Anderton waves affably and later tells of the man who approached him on a plane and declared him the spitting image of Jim Anderton. Apparently it is sometimes kinder not to correct.
From pomp and powhiri to the residents of Elmswood Village retirement home - average age 84 - in the space of an hour.
The anti-drugs message gets another airing, accompanied by concerned frowning from the women in the front row of the full room. Confession: Anderton didn't drink at youthful parties - he just didn't have the minerals for it.
Parties of other sorts don't raise a murmur.
"Are you worried about the recession going through America and England coming here?" asks a silver-haired man behind a walker.
No, says Anderton, professing himself an economic optimist. Our commercial base is different.
Then the 'A' word crops up for the first time that day.
"One of the reasons I'm not with the Alliance," he adds, "is because they're so bloody miserable. The country's making progress."
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By JULIE MIDDLETON
Where's the firebrand Jim Anderton of old? Where's the soapbox hustler, the aggressive TV debater?
Jim Anderton on the trail is his usual affable and vaguely pompous self - wow, can he ramble on - but the energy that he usually plugs into on the hustings seems elsewhere.
"Years of
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