So here I am dutifully reporting from Down Under.  A position unsuited to both my personality and private proclivities.  But nonetheless, one I find myself in far more often than I would wish.  My first interactions with the natives convince me that they are undilutedly happy and entirely comfortable in their skins.  Based on my research this is likely a consequence of the absence of a decent Christian upbringing.  Their obviously delusional perspective on life leads them to be friendly in ways that leave your reporter completely discomforted.  Spiral notebook in hand, I have gently inquired of a number of these folks whether they’re “on something”.  Blank stares in return suggest otherwise.  Those of you familiar will instantly understand that it has required every ounce of self-restraint to keep from Cher slapping them and ordering them to “snap out of it”.  As alluded to earlier, the foregoing may be related to Rob’s earlier report of people jumping off a nearby building.  Whether this is a consequence of the locals “holding back”, as I suspect, or visitors such as ourselves growing despondent by comparison will be a subject for further research (perhaps at a nearby bar this evening).  Putting aside the apparently delirious natives the City of Auckland reminds me of San Francisco on a perfect autumn day.  So many exquisite examples of Victorian architecture whose details are gloriously exaggerated by the clarity of the air and the remarkable sunlight.  And a glistening harbor.  So maybe they’re not pretending after all.

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