May 14, 2008

A wizard of a way to make a living

The “Wizard of Christchurch” was a “living legend” in New Zealand long before Harry Potter was ever thought of, or before “Lord of the Rings” became a chart-busting movie.

I don’t know that “the Wizard” actually invented any special words or phrases, but he did have a talent for challenging the way people thought about many things in a variety of amusing ways.

In reality, “the Wizard” wasn’t actually a New Zealander. According to an article relating to him on the British Broadcasting Corporation website he was born in London, England with the name of Ian Brackenbury Channell. He gained degrees in sociology and psychology at Leeds University before moving to Australia, where he taught sociology at the University of New South Wales. He apparently first became a wizard in the late 1960s.

At some point, he moved to Christchurch, one of the two major cities in New Zealand’s South Island.

Channell was an exceptionally intelligent man, but by the 1970s he had decided that a “regular job” just wasn’t for him. So he took to dressing up in his wizard’s costume, standing on a box in the city’s central square during lunchtime, and talking a load of bollocks (or “baloney”, in American-English) for passers-by to listen to.

The thing is, he was rather good at it!

His intellect and wit, not to mention his oratory skills, actually made him fascinating to listen to. Before long, he had become one of the main tourist attractions in the city, and he was being hired for all sorts of publicity stunts.

Although he advocated a very “non-conformist” message, he was particularly adept when it came to promoting government events.

He was a vocal opponent of a national census, and on one particular census night he was shown on national television, in what was obviously a well-organized publicity stunt. “The Wizard” and a small group of supporters were shown paddling their way across the ocean in a small row boat, headed for the safety of international waters to escape the “evil census officials”, hotly pursuing them in a second row boat, doing their best to deliver his forms.

I suspect the property tax people here could do with someone like him helping to promote their activities! Or perhaps the Area Planning Commission, as they try to educate the public regarding their responsibilities under the new zoning ordinance?

In 1980, Channell was officially given the title of “Wizard of Christchurch”, and by now, he had a couple of helpers, in the form of the “Wizard of Dunedin”, and the “Duke of Wellington”.

In February 1980 I moved to Wellington (New Zealand’s capital city) for work, and through one of my new colleagues, who was a friend of sorts of “the Duke”, was able to spend part of a weekend driving all three of them, and my work colleague, around town in my tiny car, which was nowhere near big enough for the five of us.

Somehow though, that seemed to make it the ideal method of transport given the absurdity of some of what we were doing.

The company operating the ferry service that ran between the North and South Islands had hired “the Wizard” for a weekend of promotional activities, and he brought the “Wizard of Dunedin” and a band made up mostly, I believe, of students from the University of Dunedin, for an “invasion” of the North Island.

It was left therefore to the “Duke of Wellington” to hastily raise a force of stout-hearted individuals to defend the island against the “southern rabble”.

We spent our evenings of the week before the event making swords out of rolled-up newspaper and armor and shields out of cardboard boxes in preparation for the fun.

“The Duke” led about six of us, fully “armed”, down to the ferry terminal on the (Friday) night of the big arrival. A large group of American tourists were gathered there, innocently waiting to catch the ferry, unaware of the shock they were about to be given.

The ferry berthed and the bagpipes and drums started playing. The tourists were startled by the noise, and thoroughly confused when terminal officials arrived to bustle them aside to make way for us.

Down the ramp came the band (it seemed about 50 of them!), led by the two wizards, and the minute they saw our little troop of guards there to challenge them, they charged like madmen!

The southern invaders didn’t yet have paper swords and cardboard shields to fight with, so they put their instruments to work.

Being smacked by a drum or set of bagpipes doesn’t necessarily hurt much but trust me when I say that if someone takes a swing at your head with a tuba, you should definitely duck!

The poor Americans got one heck of a shock. They thought they were caught in the middle of some kind of gang war and had to be calmed down by ferry staff and reassured that this is all “good, clean fun!”

We spent most of that weekend staging similar battles all over the greater Wellington area, but never quite duplicated the same degree of terror or carnage that we had on the occasion of the first meeting.

In 1990, the then Prime Minister gave Channell official status as New Zealand’s “First Wizard”.

By 2004, when I finally left New Zealand, he was looking towards retirement, but still giving keynote speeches at all sorts of major conferences, alongside political leaders and top businessmen.

Not a bad result, for someone trying desperately to avoid a regular job!

frank@news-banner.com

by FRANK SHANLY

Email Frank Shanly

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