Once Upon a Standard.

It's 7:30pm on a suitably windy night at Dunedin's Port of Otago lounge, overlooking the harbour. National Standards are being openly discussed in a meeting organised by a squat National MP - Michael Woodhouse. The Minister of Education has been invited to speak and then answer questions. She is suitably adorned, for she has arrived dressed as a fifty cent mixture - like children in a sweet-shop, we were immediately distracted and mesmerised by her candy-floss manner.

However, like things - too good to be true, she was a alas, a wolf dressed in Grandma's clothing. Wearing a liquorice all-sort waist-jacket and armed with an arsenal of things for those 'just-in-case' moments, she set off explaining her wonderful standards.

Then it came question crunch time. A colourful set of boiled sweets hung longingly from her neck ready to be stuffed down the mouth of any over enthusiastic, anti-standards speaker. Two acid drops drooped from her lobes, giving her instant acerbic responses to any unsuspecting fool daring enough to try and present an argument. And, just when we thought she was all bad - two pink lamingtons cleverly disguised as high heels were offered to the audience to appease them.

But wait, you must be thinking that is not how a good story ends, the protagonist always wins, right?

In the end, our Hansel and Gretel audience was not fooled by her saccharin appearance and managed to cook her in her own hot water.

But never fear for Anne Tolley is here, "I am not the expert, but I am the Minister," (Anne Tolley, March, 29, 2010).

Greg MacLeod