“I have to hand it to you, CaseLoad,” huffed Our Man At The Bar. “It never ceases to amaze folk whose sphere of influence is limited to nut selection in the Ladies and Escorts Lounge that you are always able to unselfishly wheezle a couple of your chums into the New Year gong roundup. Take old Johnny McGrath for example. There he was a few years back minding his own business as Solicitor-General when you popped a word in the right lug and blow me down if he wasn’t hiked up to the Court of Appeal. Never done any judging before but what’s that got to do with it, I say? What did he tell you? He thought as a new judge he was beyond your sticky clutches? More fool him. You hardly let Judge Johnny get his seat warm when you got him cranked up to the Supreme Court. What’s he ever done to annoy you? Next we know you’ll be tipping him as Chief Justice, eh? Swinging him a Distinguished Companionship of the New Zealand Order of Merit would help, what? And how about your old mate Jeremy Pope, the travelers’ darling, international man of affairs and suspected rock n roller? You pulled out the Big Bogey there, ye crawlin’ wee lickspittle, getting him made an officer of the New Zealand Order of Merit for services to international affairs. Nothing much has been heard of Our Jerry lately. He edited the Law Journal eons ago, knocked together a couple of rather good travel guides for a petrol company, got himself in cahoots with some so-called global anti-corruption outfit called Transparency International and still fills in a bit of time talking about legal stuff. Not like the old days, eh, when he put the hot poker round a few scribblers’ nethers. You still owe him for giving you that great story in 1972 about Brian Finbar Miram Edwards – or Doctor Brian, as he is still affectionately recalled. Remember when Old Brian was touting for the Labour selection in Miramar? And how the papers were full of him and his “wife”? You and that reprobate Eric Papps bearded the good Doc in his waterfront lovenest to get him to admit he wasn’t married to the lass being presented by the media as his “wife.” They were strange times, CaseLoad. And how a couple of days later Jeremy phoned your affable boss Bob Edlin and threatened to have him jailed for criminal libel if he dared publish a story suggesting Blameless Brian had misled the electorate for not disclosing that the woman he lived with was not his wife. Of course Mr Edlin had no choice but to publish the story of Jeremy’s jail threat. So it’s good to see you haven’t forgotten Jeremy’s wee contribution to your sordid career. Bet he wishes you had.

Now, CaseLoad, we need you to clear this one up, if you will. We take it this decorated Jeremy Pope is no relation to the Jeremy Pope who in 2005, with partner Leigh Maddock, won the Open Restricted section of the Capital City United Rock n Roll Champs? Then went on to come second in the Senior Same Sex section dancing with Darren Bailey, and came third with Haley Small in the Unders and Overs class? Just checking. Maybe we should ask judicial pr man and talented muso Neil Billington if he can throw some light? Your place for Sapphire and Snags?