Double Edged Swords
It’s the first of March today, municipal elections are on the go and most of South Africa is enjoying the sunny, beach-perfect public holiday. I’m at work.
As I was told only yesterday while I was at lunch, the company has decided to work today so that they can be closed on Monday 20 March, the day before Human Rights Day. That of course gives us a 4 day weekend.
Of course it’s a double edged sword. I know I’m going to enjoy the 20 March off, but hearing about it yesterday was disheartening, especially when you’ve already geared yourself up mentally to survive the week with the belief that you have a much-needed break. Plus, my mood wasn’t helped when I went out to my car yesterday afternoon and discovered that 2 big tree branches had landed on the bonnet, scratching / scuffing it. Fortunately it wasn’t dented. Useless Morningside trees- if they aren’t housing pigeons with irritable bowel syndrome, they’re falling apart at the slightest breeze.
At least I got to sleep in an extra half an hour later this morning, and the drive to work was traffic-free. Plus I get to leave work early to go and do my civic voting duty. The way I see it is that, regardless of how corrupt politicians are, and how ineffectual the political system is, if you have voted and participated, you have the right to whine about bad service, uncut verges etc etc. Otherwise you forfeited your right to bitch.
Anyway, the thing is, with everyone else on holiday, there’s no one on the Pond. Of course, if you think that means I’ll be doing more work because I won’t have anyone to interact with, you’re sorely mistaken. There’s this lengthy post to keep me busy.
After all, the smokers are outside puffing every 30 minutes, so I think I’m entitled to a different kind of break- the type that won’t tar up your lungs, and have you on a ventilator in 30 years time.
At least Paul is working today so I have someone else to share my gripes with. I’ve just SMSed him the good news that his beloved Tool is performing at the UK Download Music Festival in June (www.downloadvestival.co.uk). He may very well organise his ticket now.
So far this week, I haven’t had a chance to veg in the evening, or scan and digitally colour my sketch. On Monday night, Paul and I joined Kirsten and Warren for Milky Lane and bowling at the Pavilion. I was doing so well at bowling (5 spares, including a split pin) until I completely botched a frame. Kirsten and I ended up with a tied score of 95.
On Tuesday evening, Paul and I went out for dinner on Florida Rd with his family, including his gran, cousin Micah and Penny. The reason for the dinner was a solemn one – yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Paul’s aunt, but the evening was a fun one, and the food at Simply Fish, really awesome. Paul and I had the 2-person seafood platter, which was prawns, linefish, muscles, and calamari rings and legs, with potato wedges and savoury rice.
Back on the topic of South African elections, politics and political views, it really concerns me the way that a certain segment of the older white South African population continues to think and act. Of course I have my prejudices but I don’t have a kind of split personality approach to issues of race and South African history. For example, last night at dinner I heard all about how previously mandatory military service, fighting in Angola, Namibia etc etc, really injured or mentally damaged a lot of young white South African men. With the next breath, however, the discussion turned to how if only the United States had never interfered and stopped SA’s military action in assorted Southern African nations- ‘We were doing so much good, sorting out Africa and restoring order.’
It’s crazy, just crazy to on the one hand recognise the pointlessness of such military excursions and the damage they caused, and then celebrate them as signifying a South African might that is now gone. It’s the same as all those people who complain about ‘stupid disorganised blacks’, and much worse, but are as sweet as syrup, and very generous when face to face with black individuals. I find it incredibly frustrating and hypocritical. At least my indifference to discomfort is consistent.
Anyway, a really good book that captures this sense of dichotomies among the older generation of white South Africans is Mark Behr’s The Smell of Apples. It really shows how blank areas of understanding just get filled with propaganda bullshit. People just repeat what they are exposed to without reconciling their actions and views to their deeper feelings. The Smell of Apples is well worth reading if you never have, and it's a popular school and university assigned novel.
As I was told only yesterday while I was at lunch, the company has decided to work today so that they can be closed on Monday 20 March, the day before Human Rights Day. That of course gives us a 4 day weekend.
Of course it’s a double edged sword. I know I’m going to enjoy the 20 March off, but hearing about it yesterday was disheartening, especially when you’ve already geared yourself up mentally to survive the week with the belief that you have a much-needed break. Plus, my mood wasn’t helped when I went out to my car yesterday afternoon and discovered that 2 big tree branches had landed on the bonnet, scratching / scuffing it. Fortunately it wasn’t dented. Useless Morningside trees- if they aren’t housing pigeons with irritable bowel syndrome, they’re falling apart at the slightest breeze.
At least I got to sleep in an extra half an hour later this morning, and the drive to work was traffic-free. Plus I get to leave work early to go and do my civic voting duty. The way I see it is that, regardless of how corrupt politicians are, and how ineffectual the political system is, if you have voted and participated, you have the right to whine about bad service, uncut verges etc etc. Otherwise you forfeited your right to bitch.
Anyway, the thing is, with everyone else on holiday, there’s no one on the Pond. Of course, if you think that means I’ll be doing more work because I won’t have anyone to interact with, you’re sorely mistaken. There’s this lengthy post to keep me busy.
After all, the smokers are outside puffing every 30 minutes, so I think I’m entitled to a different kind of break- the type that won’t tar up your lungs, and have you on a ventilator in 30 years time.
At least Paul is working today so I have someone else to share my gripes with. I’ve just SMSed him the good news that his beloved Tool is performing at the UK Download Music Festival in June (www.downloadvestival.co.uk). He may very well organise his ticket now.
So far this week, I haven’t had a chance to veg in the evening, or scan and digitally colour my sketch. On Monday night, Paul and I joined Kirsten and Warren for Milky Lane and bowling at the Pavilion. I was doing so well at bowling (5 spares, including a split pin) until I completely botched a frame. Kirsten and I ended up with a tied score of 95.
On Tuesday evening, Paul and I went out for dinner on Florida Rd with his family, including his gran, cousin Micah and Penny. The reason for the dinner was a solemn one – yesterday was the anniversary of the death of Paul’s aunt, but the evening was a fun one, and the food at Simply Fish, really awesome. Paul and I had the 2-person seafood platter, which was prawns, linefish, muscles, and calamari rings and legs, with potato wedges and savoury rice.
Back on the topic of South African elections, politics and political views, it really concerns me the way that a certain segment of the older white South African population continues to think and act. Of course I have my prejudices but I don’t have a kind of split personality approach to issues of race and South African history. For example, last night at dinner I heard all about how previously mandatory military service, fighting in Angola, Namibia etc etc, really injured or mentally damaged a lot of young white South African men. With the next breath, however, the discussion turned to how if only the United States had never interfered and stopped SA’s military action in assorted Southern African nations- ‘We were doing so much good, sorting out Africa and restoring order.’
It’s crazy, just crazy to on the one hand recognise the pointlessness of such military excursions and the damage they caused, and then celebrate them as signifying a South African might that is now gone. It’s the same as all those people who complain about ‘stupid disorganised blacks’, and much worse, but are as sweet as syrup, and very generous when face to face with black individuals. I find it incredibly frustrating and hypocritical. At least my indifference to discomfort is consistent.
Anyway, a really good book that captures this sense of dichotomies among the older generation of white South Africans is Mark Behr’s The Smell of Apples. It really shows how blank areas of understanding just get filled with propaganda bullshit. People just repeat what they are exposed to without reconciling their actions and views to their deeper feelings. The Smell of Apples is well worth reading if you never have, and it's a popular school and university assigned novel.
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