Day 130 - Boy Scout Moment

Well, so much for writing something for 365 consecutive days. At this rate I will only finish this in 2019 and you shall be stuck reading this with me as my hairline recedes and waistline increases even more. I shall by then be waffling on about the state of the bus journey to town, whether or not I should draw my pension in Italian lira - because lets face it the Euro will probably be gone by then as country after country goes into bankruptcy. The European Union will probably have been dissolved by then and as the holder of the green mamba (that is a SA passport in case you were wandering) I will again need a visa to go to the toilet. Ah, so much to look forward to.

Anyway, I digress from the important news of the past few days and news I am sure you are just hanging on to the edge of your seat to hear. Yes, this news will be ground breaking. The Springboks won a game of rugby today. Yes, they did honestly and you can check the news channels if you don't believe me. It did come as a surprise I know but a win is a win and we'll take it. It was obvious, to me anyway, that if Div reduced the average player age to about 24 the pace of the game will pick up like it did in the second half. As a side note it must have been quite interesting this morning in 'ol sunny SA with the churchies...decisions decisions...do we watch the bokke, braai and eat biltong or do we go and pray? Or do we pray for the bokke to win. Hmmm that must have confused the do gooders this morning.

And in other sporting news, equal in importance to the WC, my youngest kicked off his annual campaign to retain his player of the year trophy. First match this morning it was, so off we went, all excited and not dressed very warmly. It was one of those aha moments, football here might be a bit different and a whole lot colder. For us anyway on the sidelines. I think in a month or so we shall be taking along the mobile fire place to stand around - if today was anything to go by anyway. Nevertheless, being this dedicated parent that I am I gave up the opportunity to watch the other match live (in my warm lounge) and rather recorded it to watch as if it was live when we got home. These days its quite tricky not to be kept in touch with every moment of everyone's life so in a military manner we forbade the use of mobile communication devices until such time as we completed watching the end of the Springbok victory. I don't know why we bothered to be honest. What a shite performance. At least the youngest and his team dominated their opposition with a thrilling 3-0 win.

We also this weekend had the pleasure of hometown mates staying with us. There is nothing quite like talking shit over a few tequilas with someone who shares some of your history. I can only imagine what we were talking about because to be honest things are a bit hazy, in the later parts of the evening anyway, and I don't remember most of the detail. But I know we had a good time judging by the size of the bar tab anyway. Being of SA stock we drank our fair share and ate our fair share too. We even lit a fire and had a cracking braai yesterday afternoon. OK there were a few envious looks from passing punters as we sizzled the steak on the fire and drank beer but there are some things that need to happen. And this was one of them. We even had gem squash on the fire. No small feat finding gem squash over here apparently. Good times. And then we drank more tequila. Hmmm too nice!

Someone else I know posted in facebook earlier today the fact that he had been mugged at knife point last night while walking home, probably no more than 300 meters. Here it would be big news. He would probably be knighted for surviving a knife attack as quite a few of them don't survive. There, his fb friends say 'hey sorry bru, hope you OK man' or 'whatsup dude, at least he didn't kill you'. As SAfricans we are so overwhelmed by crime and so inebriated by it that we no longer have much emotion about it. I'm not judging it, I don't live there anymore so I don't have too and before you get all defensive, there is crime here too I know but in most cases it would be unlikely for you to die for your phone. In most cases. 

Someone else I know also quoted stats recently, and they went something like this. The murder rate in SA has come down 6.5%. A real result by anyones standards. But there were still 15000 - yes fifteen THOUSAND - murders last year in SA. Don't quote me on the stats as they may not be absolutely accurate. Maybe it is 14500 or 15500. Its a lot that's the point. But we are immune to the emotion that comes with crime because it is part of our culture. But at least the sun in shining and you can braai. Strange but true.

Talking of fire, tonight I had a bit of a boy scout moment and for the first time lite the fire in the pub, just checking to see if it works you see. People were looking at me as if I was a bit odd but hey, its my fire. So there. It works is the verdict and no doubt we shall be lighting it up quite frequently in the months to come.

And finally, its ten years today since the attacks on the World Trade Center. Where was I when this happened? At Durban International Airport buying a cold drink at the sweet shop downstairs. Above the till they had a TV and they happened to have CNN on...and there it was. Where were you when it happened?

Until tomorrow. Maybe

Day 129 - Jinxed It?

And so it came to pass that at least one of my off spring attended his first day of school today. And in the morning another, the eldest, shall too. In the morning she shall embark on her own on the bus with new people to her new school. It will no doubt be daunting for her but I am sure she will be just fine. She has after all met a number of kids her age to share the journey with so we hope that it will not be too dramatic. 

It will be somewhat quieter in these parts for a number of hours each day from herein onwards. We are now getting to normality, the summer holidays are over, the Euro travelling populace are back at work, tanned and already saving for their next journey to foreign shores. The honeymoon period of the pub has subsided and it is up to us to now make it happen. And we shall. But rather than climb into every gimmick there is available and there are many we are more inclined to approach this gently and with more depth and foundation. Just how much depth and foundation will depend of course on the state of the bank balance but we are confident that slow steps now will stand us in good stead later. Or, and this could be the case, we may just be naive and whacking the gimmicks and gadgets now is the way to go. Whatever my opinion is or yours for that matter, time alone will be our judge and jury. And hopefully by the time this gets to Day 364 we will be closer the knowing the answer. I shall be exhausted and probably stressed but at least we will a bit closer to knowing if this theory works.

On the personal side, I continue to to be amazed by some of the people that I meet. With the hours that we are currently doing it would be safe to say that the holiday goggles are off but yet still every day we are touched by the kindness and generosity of people that live in these parts. Yes, before you think I've gone all soft and tree huggy like I know that for some who have lived here for a lifetime we are one in many couples who have kept these historical walls in good shape and there will be many more after us I suspect but nevertheless we have had easy and friendly conversations with a variety of people who have just accepted us. There has been no qualm about our backgrounds, the fact that we are foreigners. There has been no issue that as Springbok supporters in front of the imminent World Cup we shall be up against England at some point, and hopefully beat them too. And on Saturday there shall no doubt be many comments as we wander around the town in our Springbok jerseys readying ourselves for a Welsh onslaught - which we shall brush away. And hopefully later on Saturday when we light the fire and tan some meat there shall be only congratulatory comments on our fine victory.

There I have jinxed it now. I have mentioned fire so it is sure to rain anyway, regardless of whether I wash my car or not. I have positively alluded to the current Springbok side actually winning a game on foreign soil - which as we know could  now go either way and there is a strong chance it will now go against us. I am truly sorry so I shall have to wear my lucky shirt and i expect you to wear yours. Mine is green.

I'm rambling now. Tuesday now. AFD shift tomorrow that start at 6am so I am signing off. I hope that you have a fab time wherever you are and don't forget to put your national pride aside and support the Springboks in their quest for a third World Cup victory. There is only one.

Until tomorrow.

Day 128 - Clever Stuff

Tomorrow and Wednesday heralds, finally the end of the summer holiday for the off spring. They will, hopefully spend the next few months being bombarded with clever stuff that makes them both intelligent and occupied. They will hopefully be able to immerse themselves into subjects that challenge their mental ability and positively engage their peers in worthy debate on the state of any given subject.

What will more than likely happen instead is that I suspect that my pre teen who thinks she eighteen will spend more time trying to be cool at her new school that actually bother with anything clever. Her pre requisite and sparkling new uniform will fortunately negate her willingness and need for individuality and her morning bus journey will drag her out of her bed at a suitable hour, which is some hours before lunch. It will be a shock to her system to experience eating breakfast actually in the morning, but a lesson well learnt for her future years. For the even younger one, he will perhaps not engage anyone in worthy debate, in fact he probably won't give a shit either way as he blasts himself around the playground being a boy. For him there is unlikely to be worthy debate as he argues his corner, I can warn others and take this from my experience he has the ability to be quite convincing. So convincing in fact that I have had to install a daily password system for my bar staff. The rule has been, no Cheddars, crisps or sweets if he doesn't know the password. It worked at first...

Today though marks the end of a long and busy weekend. Staff drinks after work always sounds like a good idea at the time. Its only when you get into the detail of who wants what to drink, and who is rostered to work the next day do you realise just complex it can all be. Factor in age and some immaturity and it proves to be challenging to keep all happy. And as predicted a few days ago, the party went exactly as I said it would be. Slow and subdued to start followed by raucous and noisy till four in the morning. The very young of the youngest were the first to leave, not exactly walking upright it has to be said. The oldest of us, the more experienced of us and those of us who have little idea of when to stop were of course the last to leave. Begrudgingly at the time I trudged upstairs, the laughter of the night still echoing in my head and within one second of resting my head on my pillow was I asleep. Blissfully unaware that the cleaner fairy was going to take all the hassle away of tidying up the mess that we made. 

And then Sunday happened. What had been a good idea turned Sunday into a tragedy. I could swear that this past Sunday was longer that it normally is. The last few hours of the day took forever to pass. The throbbing head was temporarily stilled by a few tablets and a glass of water but none of the old tricks worked. Not even greasy bacon and eggs. And then we went o a braai / bbq in the afternoon. Fantastic it was, especially once a few glasses of red were downed. We never learn. 

Until tomorrow.

Day 127 - Drink in Hand

Beer, beer everywhere but not a drop to drink. Or was that supposed to be water? I can never remember. I suppose unlike salt water, this beer is very palatable but not wanting to beer (sorry Freudian slip I think) confused with someone else who does similar things to me I try - and this will news to those who know me but I have grown up eventually I think, well OK maybe not actually grown up completely yet but on track to be mature, more sensible and not to overdo it too often anymore.

Until this coming Saturday anyway. This Saturday marks the first of what I suppose will be a few bonding sessions with the staff of this place. I say the first of few because hedging my bets here I am bound to have changes of people in the time to come so will need to sacrifice more generously as it happens to properly welcome them to the team. I cannot be accused of lacking in generosity. 

Having hosted events like this before, like I have said previously any excuse will do, this is what will probably happen. It'll start off relatively quietly, a bit subdued even, and once the lubricant which occurs naturally in alcohol starts to take effect, the volume will start to increase, the youngest of the team will try and drink the most in the shortest possible amount of time and will no doubt be the first to throw their name away, for some never to be found again. The flash of cameras will remind everyone of the need to put everything on fb, every comment, every joke, every revelation and for some this will mean embarrassing moments and explanations in the morning when their mothers open their status updates. As the evening wears on, so the cleverer ones will try and both understand and solve the worlds problems. Complex rationality and reasoning that defies all logic will prevail and at some point all present, especially the young ones, will profess to have the answer to the crisis in Libya or Afghanistan, some will be so emotional about these two situations that they will commit themselves to joining the armed forces at first light. Of course they never will, until the next session anyway.

And the older of us will sit back, drink in hand and wise to the path of these parties and watch the future memories unfold. We shall be reminded of our age repeatedly by the younger element amongst us but come the end of the night we shall most likely be still standing and yes, still in charge of the camera so that these drunken moments are forever captured and of course shared with all our hundreds of friends and of course friends of friends. And in the morning, the elders amongst us will still get up to do a days work. We shall no doubt be hungover and the day will be a battle, especially to keep the porcelain smile gleaming. The youngsters will oversleep and may not even arrive at work, citing tiredness of course. We shall all promise never to do it again, until next time of course.

And that is how Saturday night will probably go. There are of course other scenarios which involve copious amounts of gold Tequila and maybe even a bit of jagermeister but that would just be too awful to contemplate. Oh and one final point, when it gets to stupid o clock and I'm the one standing on the table (looking for my name in the rafters) shouting 'big or small fuck em all' you know it might be time to call it a night. Forewarned is forearmed. Or something like that.

Until tomorrow.

Day 126 - Fairytale in Libya

And this reported in the papers today. Not the News of the World because as you know they're gone, not the Sun or the Star, not even the Mail or the Express, but in the erstwhile Times itself. If you even have an inkling of current affairs you cannot tell me that what I am about to comment on isn't at best ludicrous.

But let me start near the beginning. Years ago over Lockerbie, which I think is in Scotland somewhere, an American passenger plane was blown out of the air, killing all on board. You've probably heard of this. A Libyan bloke was arrested and charged with this heinous crime and subsequently jailed for as many years as there are fleas on a camel. Only the bloke got old and started suffering from ill health and so the former government's tree hugger department stepped in and released him on the grounds that he was terminally ill and should be allowed to die in peace - or should that be pieces, like the Lockerbie victims? Only, it seems he may not have been quite so ill as he was making out to be at the time and but nevertheless he was given a hero's welcome home by the All Glorious Master and King of the Africa's. Needless to say, the Scots and most of the civilised world weren't too happy about all this and there was a bit of an uproar and whispers of a good old oil deal on the table (surprise surprise).

And then the revolution started. The good guys (depending on your outlook on life of course) started chasing the All Glorious Master and don't forget the Commander of all Gods Battalions and King of all Africa's dude until he couldn't support the bomber no more. The good guys, ever grateful for the help given to them by the generous NATO forces and of course the tax payers of the Europe, publicly told the world to piss off and stated that NO they would not hand the bomber dude back to the west to be jailed again for his crime. After all he was a Libyan citizen and worthy of their protection - where the fuck were they when the All Glorious Master was killing the other citizens for 42 years! 

And then (and this is the fairytale moment so pay attention) Disney stepped in with its story writers (they didn't really in case you're wondering and in case they want to sue me) and made up the penultimate chapter of this mans life. The family of this bomber dude, seeing that he is deteriorating without medical support because all the pills and medical stuff have been stolen by looters (Brixton, Clapham, Enfield, Walthamstow you too can pay attention, oh wait sorry, most of you probably come from Libya anyway) have pleaded to the Scottish government to please send Scottish doctors over to Libya to help him get better again. Yes. If I was you I would read that last bit again. The Libyans, cocking two fingers to the very people that have just freed them are now asking for more help to heal a bomber that caused untold grief on the Scottish nation all those years ago. Do they have no shame?

The world is truly a bizarre place. And bizarrest of all? I bet the tree hugger department in the Scottish government send Scottish doctors to help. Human rights after all they'll argue. My opinion in short. Let him die.

Until tomorrow.

Day 125 - The Arab Spring

This has been a long day. Yesterday I moaned about what has been a bit of a damp squib of a bank holiday weekend but today has made up for it. Today we have been to the edge and back in the kitchen and I think if my significant other half had had her way many would have felt the edge of her kitchen knives or that of the lip of the frying pan. There are times in the kitchen when the sound of the printing from the kitchen printer can reduce grown men and women to almost tears. Today was one of those days.

Innocuous it started, a quick visit to the biggest junk stuff sale I have ever seen and then back to the pub for an hour or so of work we thought. After all the whole weekend's performance had suggested that today, Monday wasn't going to happen. Coupled with the rain, people being away, it was a definite non starter. It was sure to determine the trading patterns of future bank holidays. It would have been feet up time. The couch was looking mighty attractive, the recliner had my name written all over it. Instead, the fat fryer spat at me, the oven cursed and cussed and the bloody kitchen printer had the audacity to keep us on the move for most of the day. Its a tough life but I grudgingly suppose one that I am grateful for.

Other stuff that got me thinking today. Today's papers report on the bonanza that the weapons companies have received during the 'Arab spring'. The tree huggers are dismayed that British companies are cashing in by supplying arms and ammunition's to the Arab states. Let me try and understand this. Would the tree huggers be happier if there wasn't an arms industry in the UK, if there wasn't an industry and the associate feeder industry that generates billions for the economy and employs probably hundreds of thousands of people directly and indirectly. There continues to be it seems the misunderstanding that guns kill people, they don't; people kill people with guns. If they didn't have a gun they would probably still kill. And if they didn't get the guns from UK firms they would only get them from somewhere else. And in other countries they would benefit from the contribution to the economy and of course the employment. But no, the papers today go on a bit about the how the government should clamp down, how they should stop issuing export licences. Perhaps, and this is absolutely politically incorrect, the government should increase the number of exports, the long term benefit would be that they could have a proper go at killing each other, the price of oil could be probably be negotiated down as they needed more money for more guns anyway. The government could stop interfering and playing global policeman and save billions by not bombing everything from the jets, just let them get on with it. Why is it the West's problem? (Obviously we would need to keep an eye on them 'cos we don't want them getting hold of a you know what that wasn't found after all the last time the UK was led to war in Iraq by 'ol TB. Nudge nudge wink wink. That'll keep the oil flowing 'ey Gordon.)

No, weapons are here to stay and if they don't sell them somebody else will. And here's a conspiracy theory to get you thinking. I think the manufacturers of the more popular weapons like the AK and the M16 pay for the production of toys that mimic the real thing. Think about it. Get the kids feeling the weapon now, the shape, the butt in the shoulder, the signature feel and look albeit plastic, and later they will always remember the building blocks. And if the visit today to the car boot sale aka the biggest junk stuff sale was anything to go by, there will be many kids that went home with a plastic AK47 or look a like full size plastic BB hand gun. Makes you think.

Until tomorrow.

Day 124 - Ice Ice Baby

I guess part of the thing about moving to a new town or place is getting to to the know the routine, the habits and the people. And this place is no different. Like in any town it has its ways and days when everything is different but everything is the same. Take this weekend for example, here it is called a bank holiday, you might know it as a public holiday wherever you are but its the same thing and like in many other places people manipulate their work time and leave days to take advantage of the longer than normal weekend. Fairly straight forward. 

You would think. There must have been a time and I vaguely remember those days when you were guaranteed booming trade over the bank holiday weekend in this trade. From Friday to Monday every decent pub would have been filled to capacity, the sale of beer would have been brisk. And this is what we sort of expected and pretty much what we have been told in these parts. Only it hasn't been like that. It has been a bit busier but not half of our expectation. And not only in this pub I assure you (if it was only here I would have been worried). Having been through the mill before we were sure to ask a range of people of their views and predictions for the weekend, different ages, different lines of work and the general consensus was that it was going to happen. It hasn't. I hope that when I write this tomorrow night I will be able to report just how massively busy its been.. Hmmm, not sure?

For those of you reading this who are fb friends of mine you may have seen my upload of a photo I took today. Early this morning it gave me a chuckle anyway.

I'm sure the experts in the field will point me in the right direct about the multitudes of ice types available but really as a layman, if ice wasn't frozen would it be labelled as unfrozen water? And anyway are there other types? 

That's my lot, its late. Have a fab week ahead.

Until tomorrow.