Last blog I wrote about the run-up to the elections and I think I was happiest when a radio talk show host described the whole political process as boring. I love boring elections. I remember when they weren't and I'll take boring over bodies in the street and stockpiled tins of pilchards any damn day. Of course, if you were out of the country, you couldn't vote, but, if you're a convicted murderer in C-max, you could. That's because prisoners have the one thing the bureaucracy insists on, a fixed address. For identification you needed a bar code or a behind bars code.
I was standing in the queue for the polling booth with a fellow South African who said, "Before 1994 I wasn't allowed to vote. Now, today, this is my 3rd time."
I was so proud! I came over all snotty eyed and patriotic, "Yep, what a rainbow nation. I also voted in '94, '99 and now 2004."
He smiled, "No, no! This is my 3rd time voting... today."
(Then a perfect comedy beat and a slow wink.)
Yeah, it's been a good couple of months. Apart from the elections running like a curry powered Comrades medallist, onse Charlize scooped the Oscar for behaving like your average girl from Benoni after a bad night on the Cain & Klipdrift. Then all you kind people out there handed us the job of hosting the 2010 soccer World Cup. The lucky delegates and cabinet ministers (some of whom probably couldn't vote either, because they always seem to be overseas) danced and congratulated themselves and soon everybody was mobbing Madiba to try out their version of the traditional African handshake. It all started looking very kung-fu. Back home, not even allegations of match rigging could piss on the party. Bribing our guys to lose is as pointless as offering Viagra to hamsters.
But wait! There's more! It turns out that first private astronaut who bazoomed his way into space the other day was born in Joburg, so we figure, "Fuck it, who cares where he's been for the last 40 years. We're claiming that one too!"
After all, Afrikaners have a proud heritage of space travel, which is why they named it Star Trek in the first place. I look forward to the missions of the star ship, VENTERPRIZE, because I'm sure there are a bunch of Gautengers eager to prove that a Venter trailer with a V8, Ford engine can go anywhere in the universe.
It's my birthday tomorrow.
Thanks to everyone who wished me many more. I appreciate it. And a "cyber-snotklap" to those of you who wished my wife many more on our wedding day. So, let me end by sprouting some meaningless, creeping-baldness drivel about life's lessons... I've learnt that patriotism may be the last refuge of a scoundrel, but hiding out in Hillbrow is probably more effective. Certainly, it seems to have worked for the bastard who stole my car. But, most importantly, I've decided that being fearful of the future is pointless. The realisation gets stronger every day, because I'm still eating tins of pilchards that I stockpiled before the first election in 1994.
Cheers!
Al P
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