If this reads like it was hastily written, ill considered and untroubled by an original thought, then you're probably a regular visitor to this page. I'm just being a trusted brand; living up to the Wimpy/Hyundai/SABC recipe of "never surprise the customer" and being reassuringly crap. I'm also trying to post this blog before City Power, who have the same brand philosophy as I do, deliver another of their daily electricity cuts.
Having moved to ama-West Rand, I now have the pleasure of being ignored by a whole new municipality that can't make the lights work or the shit flow downhill. About the only thing that arrives early, without fail, on my doorstep is their monthly statement. Thanks to the council for outsourcing their billing to a local accounting firm called "Shaik, Mugabe & Vlad the Impaler" or some such. Any professional partnership in Johannesburg now consists of 3 names, 4 ethnicities and all the inherently aggressive religions that are likely to get into trouble and need expensive legal aid.
(Twelve hour pause).
I was half way through writing a grumpy-old-fart blog about things that piss me off, but I had to stop to go and do a gig in Tshwane. You may know it as Pretoria, but the city has now been restored to its original name, Tshwane, the monicker derived from the first family that settled in the area, the Tshwanepoels. Anyway, at the gig last night, I heard a story that that cheered me up considerably. I can't verify it, but I'm going to spread it around anyway.
A friend of a friend... (Already sounds dodgy, doesn't it? Don't worry; it's not about erectile dysfunction. I've never had that problem and I have the calluses to prove it.) This "friend" has a daughter whose sixth birthday is coming up, so they decide to invite her school friends around for a sugar and tartrazine binge. Dad asks her who she wants to invite to the party and she reels off names like, "Dylan and Chesney and Thandi..."
That last name gets Dad's attention and he asks, "Is Thandi black?"
His daughter considers this for a while, then replies, "...I'll ask."
Score one to the pre-pubescent. As so many of us big, bad, shit-scared adults are finding out, whether we're talking about people or cities, things that used to matter don't mean that much anymore. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why this weekend is going to be so much better than the last. Don't need electricity to braai anyway.
Cheers!
Al
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