Bob Jones

Some investment advice from Bob Jones

Bob Jones gives some essential investment advice for those looking to invest in commercial property in provincial towns.

Provincial towns world-wide are in steady decline. New Zealand is no exception. There are good reasons for that and they won’t change. A foremost one is tertiary education, now being enjoyed by more than 50% of our kids and rising. Take a student heading to Victoria University from say Hawera and living in the capital for 4 years, completing a degree. Even if pursuing a conventional career such as accounting, law or medicine, never in a million years will he or she then return to Hawera for reasons I hardly need to spell out.

The consequence of this is evident in our provincial towns today where you will now see the same faces portrayed 500 years ago by Bruegel in Flanders. Friendly coves to be sure but don’t expect scintillating discussion. So too in other western countries.

There’s another fail-safe test. If you can spot pretty girls over 20 or young blokes in suits in their late 20s to early 30s in a town then its current prospects remain hopeful. Otherwise, both categories have fled to the big cities. As a keen student of such matters, only Dunedin gets a tick, that is if one categorises it as a provincial city. Try finding a pretty girl over 20 or a young bloke in a suit in say Wanganui or Timaru and you will look in vain.

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Bob Jones continues to lambast useless journalists

Bob Jones is a national treasure and since he got the pip with the NZ Herald has been writing at NBR.

His latest column continues the theme of previous weeks of lambasting useless journalists, this week it is Bernard Hickey and Rod Oram.

He discusses his pet hates about real estate writers and advertisements, in particular a comment by Sally Lindsay about the port having a “footprint”.

I imagine many other NBR readers also on reading that “footprint” outrage like me, collapsed into a coma.

An hour later I’d recovered enough to pull myself up on to my bed where after a further hour recovering I braved deeper into that NBR issue. Thank God I did so while lying on my bed, or more specifically, thank you Sally for putting me there, for reading further on I came to an article that had I been standing, might have killed me with shock. Even today I’m still a bit twitchy and having to take calming-down pills every hour. For, unbelievably, Bernard Hickey had created an all-time first and had contributed a positive article, its contents irrelevant to my point.

About four years ago I wrote a NZ Herald  column urging Bernard and Rod Oram,  now that pre-frontal lobotomies are discredited, to try a more time proven cheering-up remedy, and take on a mistress. Judging by his new happy-faced photo over his article, plus its hitherto unprecedented positive tone, it’s clear that like all converts, whether religious, political or what have you, Bernard has taken things to extremes and instead of following my moderate advice, has instead created a harem.

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Bob Jones on the uselessness of tertiary courses, the Dompost and the Dompost journalists

Bob Jones is a national treasure, and in this week’s NBR he has out done himself on the insults.

It is rather special as he discusses the general uselessness of the Dompost, its journalists and education in general.

“Teachers struggle for jobs” was the welcome front page heading in the Dominion-Post a week back.

Before readers jump up and down, I’ll explain the ‘welcome’ bit. There has been a change of editor, meaning people with weak hearts can now resume reading the front page. Under the previous office-holder whose reign corresponded with a massive circulation decline, the mind-boggling fictions, disgraceful created non-stories and sheer nonsense bespoiling the Dom’s front page, plumbed depths never hitherto reached in the annals of newspaper publishing.

Nonsense articles still continue to entertain, only not on the front page. For example, not once but twice in the last few week’s, the Dominion-Post has described Kiwi Property as New Zealand’s largest listed company.

But back to the school-teacher story, published incidentally, under the obviously mickey-taking fictitious name, Laura Dooney. Ever heard of a ‘Dooney,’ aside from which, given the piece was well-written, anyone competent having such a name would long since have changed it by deed-poll.  Be that as it may, the item claimed we’re pumping out school-teachers who are unable to obtain jobs. It cited the Ministry of Education advising that only 15%, for God’s sake, of new teaching graduates, are able to secure permanent teaching employment. This over-supply outrage was attributed by the NZEI president Louise Green, inter alia, to “teacher training providers, eager to sustain numbers and thus corresponding funding.”

Whoever wrote the story (like you, I can’t believe the Dom’s ‘Dooney’ try-on) missed an even bigger one, namely that specialist courses graduate over-supply goes far beyond teaching.

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Bob Jones boots the Media party in the balls

Bob Jones is a national treasure.

In his NBR column he gets stuck into the Media party. It really deserves a wider audience than the under 10,000 subscribers NBR has.

Imagine this criminal court scenario.  A respected and upright citizen, noted for his calm disposition, is facing double murder charges; his victims; the New Zealand Herald and Dominion Post editors.

He offers the following defence, namely he’s been away from New Zealand in a remote place for three years with no internet access.  On arrival in Auckland he buys a copy of The Herald to read on the Air New Zealand flight to his Wellington home, assuming that’s still permitted by that appalling nannyish airline.  Fortunately, I no longer have to suffer it.

In Wellington, he reads the Dom. Immediately he rebooks back to Auckland.  On the way to the airport, he calls into the Dom’s office and murders the editor, then in Auckland he knocks off The Herald editor.  A goner, I imagine you’re thinking,but wait, there’s more. For he then submits his justification, namely his uncontrollable rage at returning home to find the same old, day in-day out, wearying infantile hysteria dominating those papers on the bloody Auckland alleged housing crisis.  It’s my pick a jury would take no more than three minutes to acquit him, with a rider of gratitude for his public service; this followed by the judge leading a standing ovation for both the jury and the accused.

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Bob Jones on Donald Trump

Bob Jones writes at NBR about Donald Trump:

How to explain the Trump insanity?

If he were running for the local council in Levin, or indeed any small town’s council, let alone big cities, anywhere, anytime in the western world, he’d be history the first time he opened his mouth. But seeking instead the world’s most important job, his utter inadequacy seemingly doesn’t matter.

Trump lacks a single redeeming feature. He’s abysmally ignorant, crass, an oftimes bankrupt and unabashed persistent liar and alleged fraudster, then to top it off, for it’s always a factor, he’s bloody ugly with his porcine visage.  Furthermore, it’s doubtful if any political aspirant has ever copped such unrelenting persistent abuse from the serious media. For example, that description above, with the exception of the porcine reference, is straight from a New York Times editorial a week ago, that being a newspaper normally with an almost snobbishly aloof approach of cautious understatement.

So too with all serious worldwide newspapers, their columnists, cartoonists and editorials hammering the buffoon daily, as no political hopeful has ever been pummelled, yet all to no avail as on he marches.  Thus Trump’s on track to gain the Republican nomination, albeit not yet a foregone conclusion.

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Face of the Day

sir-bob-jones-nzh

Bob Jones is Face of the Day because he is deadly serious about building his monument to Gareth Morgan:

He writes to Eric Crampton disabusing him of the notion that he was being tongue in cheek about the statue.

Dear Dr Crampton,

Your report on the long overdue Morgan statue has been shown to me.  Plainly there has been a misunderstanding.  It most certainly was not a “tongue in cheek” proposal.  The widespread affection and admiration for Mr Morgan demands nothing less.   Read more »

Bob Jones wins

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In the war of words and deeds between Air New Zealand and Bob Jones, Bob wins.

NBR has a column from him about his latest efforts to avoid Air New Zealand.

For more than half a century I’ve travelled everywhere – but no airline, not even in the worst Soviet Union days, matches the infantile nappy-statism of an Auckland-Wellington Air New Zealand flight.

The incessant and unnecessary hostess babble over the intercom, the utterly childish and pointless screeching safety video, the absurd seat-by-seat check that we’re an inch or two upright at exactly 20 minutes before landing, and worst of all, the “this is your captain speaking.”  You’re not our captain, sunshine, nor is it our fault you’ve chosen a mind-numbingly boring occupation. Lacking the wit to having anything meaningful to say, we endure your mumbling nonsense about the bloody weather and your planned airport approach, as if anyone gives a damn. How long before there’s fingernail inspection?    Read more »

30 years ago Bob Jones did what we all want to do, he punched a reporter in the face

Thirty years ago today, Sir Bob Jones infamously punched reporter Rod Vaughan.

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Air New Zealand pilot sits in emergency exit and reads book during safety demo

Last week Bob Jones was all the news because he dared to sit where he was told and then read a book while the safety announcement was playing.

When he refused to put his book down he was turfed off the plane and ended up being news for it.

Air New Zealand reacted in an over the top manner, and then sanctimoniously declared that no one was above the rule no matter who they were… except their own pilots of course… they can sit in the emergency exit row and read books till the cows come home.

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Putting the record straight – Bob Jones

Twice in successive weeks recently, I slammed the New Zealand media’s ludicrous behaviour in two New Zealand Herald satirical columns, over their infantile excesses following the ponytail incident. How ironic then that a few weeks later I should be the subject of their obsession with trivia. Here’s what happened.

I shot up to Auckland for a vice-chancellor’s university function, in my honour. As I’ve done countless times, I gave my ticket to the always helpful Koru Club ladies who set about re-organising me into the big leg room emergency seat and, if possible, and as indeed in that case, with no-one besides me. On the flight I was greeted by one of Air New Zealand’s most charming chief stewards, a Chinese chap, took my seat, donned my air phones to avoid the unbelievably childish safety claptrap, and had a pleasant 50 minutes’ read.

The following day at Auckland saw a repetition, marked by one of the X-ray machine officers shaking hands with me, saying he hadn’t seen me for a while. Such is the usual friendly conduct I and doubtless other regular Auckland-Wellington are accustomed to. Once again, I took my seat, donned my earphones and settled into my book, of which more shortly. There was a tap on my shoulder. I looked up to see a young hostess frowning at me and, assuming it was the usual seat forward silliness, pushed the side button and returned to reading. She tapped again. I took off the headphones.

“You’re in the emergency seat.”

“Yes.”

“Do you know you’re in the emergency seat?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to change seats?”

“Not particularly.” Read more »