Tania.co.za

I think Google loves me

I have been watching the Google referrers to my blog... and in the process I noticed that Google indexes me rather frequently. Then one fine morning I woke up and I was on top for a whole bunch of search terms I wasn't even trying to capture. I haven't even been using keywords in my blog till now, and I use the world's least popular blogging platform. I reckon I should start charging money for revealing my secret, hehehe...

Why I am boycotting Cape Talk

Someone Googled my site in search of a Tom London Cape Talk Fan Club. So I think it's about time that I said why I am boycotting Cape Talk.

The honeymoon days

I have no TV, I seldom go to movies and I hardly ever watch a DVD; and when I do, it's at my parents' home. Instead, I listen to the radio, to CDs and to audiobook casettes. My radio requires manual tuning, so I can't really flip between stations easily, and thus settled into having it tuned to Cape Talk for 99% of the time (once a month I might switch to Spookstasie on RSG (unfortunately I don't get good reception on FMR). On Cape Talk, I mostly liked listening to Redi Direko, Jean-Jacques Cornish and Barry Ronge, and Sagie Moodley and Adam Ford who do the car programme on Fridays; and Africa Melane and much of the rest of the crowd were fine to listen to as well (except for the astrologer — a sweet guy, but with a head full of bolderdash and a surprisingly well-educated following of disciples who like to throw sense to the wind when it comes to religion). Sometimes I would go to sleep to the voice of Ian Crewe or the lovely lilt of Querishini Naidoo. And most of all, I loved listening to Cape Talk in the mornings when I woke up.

Ah, as the guy in the Roto Rooter ad says, those were the days.

The beginning of the Great Tragedy

First they took Mike Wills off the weektime breakfast show and replaced him with Aden Thomas, who has absolutely zero wit compared to Mike when it comes to the kind of repartee required to chat to the British correspondent. (Many people I know stopped listening to Cape Talk when they did that.) Even Redi Direko, who speaks English as a second or third language, has a better sense of idiom than the bland Aden Thomas has. What's more, Aden Thomas has an irritating voice — almost as bad as Vern Adams' strained and scratchy voice. Aden is quite good-looking in the manner that I imagine would appeal to the general public, and IMO he would therefore do better on TV, where the voice and the bland witlessness wouldn't matter so much.

The Great Tragedy becomes even more tragic

Next, they are taking off Tom London from Cape Talk; he'll be broadcasting only on 702 from now on. The Tom London show is not about Tom London only. It's about Tom and the team. I don't think I would really like Tom on his own, but I love the show. They talk rubbish, and they make it fun for everyone. I was such a regular listener and caller to Cape Talk that if I was on that station for another year I probably would have become notorious like Eddie from Ficksburg (except that I talk more twaddle than Eddie does). Sometimes I would plan to go shopping early and then end up staying home for a whole hour or more to listen to the show because it put me in such a good mood. The 'Meisie en Mieliepap' song is so much funnier on an English radio station than it would have been anywhere else. And when Tom did that imaginary party in Caprice's new house, that was the cherry on top of the cherry on top of...

The end, the conclusion, the epitaph, the final lament and all that jazz

I couldn't bear it to think that they were taking away the Tom London show. I felt like a 20-year-old whose boyfriend is leaving forever. I didn't even listen to the farewell show. "Then go now!" I thought. "Don't even hang around here and prolong my pain!" I reckoned: Yes, fine, there are plenty of other programmes I like on Cape Talk, but if they are going to deprive us of Mike Wills and Tom London for no sound reason, how can I ever trust them again? Next they will probably replace Barry Ronge with a gangster rapper whose style of English grammar includes phrases like 'I don't do crime'. So from that moment onwards I converted to RSG, and I occasionally switch to that other station in the middle of the FM wavelength somewhere, the one that has a lot of rock music on. Once or twice I have switched back to Cape Talk, just for the news and weather forecast, but in anger, and lest it should prolong my pain, I immediately switched it off again afterwards. This is so stupid! Why didn't they (Primedia) tell the listeners why they are doing these evil things? They own a radio station, for goodness' sake, they could keep their audience informed with whatever propaganda they like! Instead, they are silent about it. It's stupid. One of my clients advertises on Cape Talk. The Primedia sales exec, Sian, is brilliant at her job, and I really like her. Advertising on Cape Talk used to make sense, because people actually listen to the ads there. But not when you chase away your listeners.

Gejaagde kommentaar

Intelligence

I have been burning the candle at both ends, working on average about 13 hours per day for some time now. The reason is that Mikhailo and I are editing another patent draft and we are being rushed by the European partner in this venture, so I have been working with him from 6 every morning until I go to my own office. On the way to Stikland this morning I wondered whom I would name if asked, "Who are the most intelligent people you have ever met?" Offhand, I would say that the top three are Mikhailo, and Brendan Coulson (a programmer who moonlighted for us a couple of years ago) and possibly Colin Truter, a patent attorney whose ability to wield words has inspired an ode; although perhaps the latter manifestation of talent is more of a skill and a craft which can be learned with practice. Nonetheless it surpasses the abilities of everyone else I have ever encountered in the field of literary genius. Intelligence can sometimes be such a thankless gift.

Work

I slipped up majorly here at work though; the self-same Colin sent me some documentation quite a while back with regard to other patents, and I forgot to see to its finalisation, and now the deadline is upon us. To make worse, I tried to pass the buck when my mistake was revealed. I have come in to the office to get it sorted out today.

Music

Vanmiddag vertrek ek saam met die ander lede van die Stadskoor Tygerberg op ons jaarlikse koorkamp. Ek het nogal gedink om hierdie jaar op te hou met die koor (ek was hoeka lank weg a.g.v. my stem) want ek het nie eintlik baie maats in die koor nie, dis maar net Marisa. Maar ons nuwe dirigent, Rudolf de Beer, is absoluut 'n rede om voor te bly. Ek beskou my ledegeld van R300 per jaar as die bargain of the century in terme van musiekopleiding. Ons leer stemtegnieke wat in allerhande vorme van sang van toepassing is, nie net in koorsang nie. Daarby leer hy vir ons baie van musiekstyle en selfs van komposisie, sommer so by the way in die oefeninge. As ek ook eendag op die ouderdom van 73 soos my heldin Mercedes Sosa 'n solo-sangloopbaan wil hê, dan moet ek beslis in die koor bly. Terloops, ons kort 'n paar basse. Tree met my in verbinding as jy belangstel. Ek het aangebied om van tweede sopraan te skuif na tenoor toe (no joke, ek kan regtig tenoor sing), maar hulle het toe wel genoeg tenore gehad.

Guilty

So much for my legalistic righteousness. I just received this letter from the Swellendam Municipality.

According to their irrefutable evidence, on 17 December 2006 at one minute to noon, I drove into Barrydale at 71 km per hour. The cost of my crime is nearly as much as it costs me to put Carol into Tygerberg Hospital overnight.

CD Swapping Party Guest List

As promised, here is an update: I still have some space available for the party on the 3rd, due to the fact that some people haven't confirmed yet. The list so far consists of...

1. Marisa
2. Dave
3. Dave's partner?
4. Giancarla
5. Christopher
6. Roelof
7. Tanya?
8. Tanya's partner?
9. Peter?
10. Vera?
    
    ...so let me know if you want to come.

Stellenboschseblief

The first 27Dinner in the Western Cape falls slap bang in the middle of a course which I am teaching, which means I am supposed to go to bed early that night. The only way I can vaguely achieve this is if they have the dinner in Stellenbosch, because then I can stay until nearly midnight and have a short drive home. So, with this ulterior motive in mind, I would like to solicit the attendance of a whole bunch of Stellenbosch bloggers, who can then vote for a Stellenbosch venue, such as l'Olive. Please click here, add your name to the list, and help me to have my way.

Weekend

I had a fantastic weekend. It started off a bit dofly, though...

Friday

I married at 22, and divorced in 2005 after 17 years. Some of my friends tell me that all those years of married-woman social dynamics from such an early age are the most probable reason why I sometimes make such naïve decisions when it comes to going out. Here is what happened. I wanted to go to the Mystic Boer, and I asked one of my neighbours, 19-year-old Lina, if she and her friends wanted to go too. She said she definitely would, and that she'd check if the others wanted to come too, and would tell me in an hour. As I left her flat, another neighbour — male — a decade or so my senior — invited me in for a drink. Cool so far. I told him where I would be going; he asked where that was, and I said he should come along and check it out. An hour later, when I went back to Lina, she said that none of them would be going after all, so that left me with just this man. R. told me the next morning that if I had SMSed him for advice at that point, he would have said, "Red lights!" But I wasn't thinking like that. (En ek het nie gereken met die feit dat hierdie man teen daardie tyd al 'n paar brandy-en-Cokes ingehad het nie. Dit het ek eers begin besef toe hy dieselfde stories wat hy vir my vroeër vertel het, wéér vertel het.) I think the problem was basically that as far as this gentleman was concerned, and possibly because back in his generation and culture it could only have been that, we were now on a 'date' — which wasn't the way I intended it at all! He slipped his arm onto my shoulder several times, and on the packed dancefloor, I eventually figured out that if I wanted to minimise the incidence of his fingers on my waist, I would have to dance on the periphery of the crowd, not at the centre, where there was no room to retreat. They don't always play music which I like at Mystic, yet this time it was just the one fantastic rock song after the other... so I really wanted to stay! But it wasn't working out with the company, so after an hour or so I decided that sleep would have more advantages than trying to stick it out there. He saw me to my door, and I said goodbye. Now if anyone can tell me how I was supposed to have handled the situation I got myself into, I would be grateful!

Saturday

Things improved the next day. I had to be up at dawn to go to Pearl Valley to take photos for Pavatile, and so I was really tired for the rest of the day. "I have a friend coming over because he's feeling lonely," I complained to Roelof, "and I am not in any state to be entertaining company!" Well, I managed to scrape myself into a vertical position to cook lunch for Roelof and Christopher, and then we cruised down to l'Olive for coffee and made Kingsley at Classix on CD play us some yummy jazz and stuff in spite of the fact that we are all actually broke to various degrees and therefore couldn't buy any of the CDs.

Roelof and Christopher... Picture taken while I was lying down on a bench, too tired to be dignigfied.


I took this picture of a door as we sauntered back to the car after bying ice-cream.

After separately draping ourselves over various comfortable furnishings for the rest of the afternoon, Christopher and I went off to Mystic and this time a very sexy-looking Lina and her friends bummed a lift. Roelof said he wasn't going along, but when we got there, there was a guy who looked and sounded exactly like him siting at the bar... hehe... In spite of the fact that the music wasn't as good as the night before, at least I didn't have to contend with any kind of hanky panky this time. We had to leave early, though, because Christopher was sleeping over at his sister's place and she didn't want him to come home after their bed-time.

Sunday

Needless to say, Sunday was HOT — even for me. After a week of late nights and early mornings, I decided to take it easy for the day. I went to see Carol, I did some shopping, I slept in sweat in the heat of the day and read about the history of France's so-called "mandates" in Lebanon and Syria.

At sunset Marius and I went back to Pearl Valley. I have been trying to not work on weekends, but this was the last chance to take photos of Pavatile's SanBlok 50 so there wasn't any other option. But once we got there, I wasn't sorry for myself at all. The light was just right. Usually you're lucky if you get one good picture from a shoot, but we got so many, and we got really excited, competing with one another.

Exxxxxxcellent texture! Marius in the background.

We also decided that I should write an article for the Web site saying that this really is theeee definitive fake stone paving. The installers, probably being used to the unevenly-sized and irregularly thick blocks which are the norm amongst Pavatile's competitors, laid the blocks with wide grouting lines instead of abutting them like tiles. Never mind. It looks seriously classy anyway. The two colours (a hint of green in the bigger blocks, and a hint of pink in the accent lines) are very subtle.

Yummy, classy, subtle, sophisticated, etc., etc.

The design of the clubhouse is actually all very classy, and the materials were decently chosen. But the one thing which detracts from it all is the pool. The paving at the pool had been chosen before the architects had heard of Pavatile, and it looks pretty dreadful. Firstly, it's red, which is an unpleasantly hot colour for a pool surround. Well, not all of the blocks are red; some of them came out the wrong colour. I was there some months ago while they were installing the stuff... One disaster after the other. And the surface is deteriorating badly already. In addition to having yecchy paving, the pool is surrounded in parts by badly faked rocks, with the result that whole pool area reminds me of the kind of look I would imagine one of the inmates recently released from Malmesbury would choose for his home.

At the end of the shoot Marius bought me a drink and we watched the sun set beyond the expensive and expertly smoothed greens. The he dropped me off at home and I began my first day of boycotting Cape Talk, hitherto my favourite radio station.

But that is a story for another day.

Logo idea

Fine

I am sorry I have been sounding so ratty lately. It's just that when I was a good mood (which was most of the time), I didn't write anything down.

Load shedding?!

NOW you tell us! When the mixers are full of concrete! And not BEFORE it happens, but AFTER WE ASK! Did you not learn from last time that this manner of keeping your customers informed kind of, like, ANNOYS THEM?!

Are Eskom and Telkom in a conspiracy to reduce South Africa to a state of pre-tech agrarian subsistence?! How nice! I would have preferred it if we had been told IN ADVANCE that we were going to be be steered away from the nepotistic neo-Marxist capitalist statehood (to which we were finally becoming accustomed) in order to be governed instead by a devolved Afro-hippy version of the philosophy of Jean-Jacques Rousseau!

Goeie genugtig...

Verlede week het ek namens Marius hierdie advertensie in Die Burger geplaas. Let wel: Daar staan "Skakel slegs indien u oor AL die volgende vaardighede beskik: Sterk in die gebruik van sigblaaie..." ensomeer. As ons vir die mense wat inbel in vra: "Hoe sterk is jy in die gebruik van sigblaaie?" antwoord die meerderheid vir hulle: "Wat is 'n sigblad?" Good grief! As hulle dan nie weet nie, hoekom slaan hulle dit nie na voordat hulle bel nie?

Verdere verkeersnuus

Nou ja... na my tirade van gister is daar verdere gebeure op die Bottelarypad wat die situasie so effens verander. Die mense werk nou aan die pad tussen die gholfbaan en die Soneike-verkeerslig. En net soos die vorige twee kere wat hulle aan die Bottelarypad gewerk het, het hulle met tydelike spoedtekens die spoedbeperking van die pad by sekere gedeeltes verhoog. Terwyl daar werksmense besig is, mag jou nou teen 80 km per uur ry in 'n area wat vantevore 'n 70-sone was.

CD swapping party

To those who reckon I would regard them as friends and those who think that I would like them if I knew them...

On Saturday 3 February starting at 19:00 I am going to have a CD swapping party.

The idea is this: You bring along at least one CD that you don't really want anymore, and then you check out if anyone at the party has anything you prefer, and you swap.

If everyone likes your CD, you let them fight amongst each another or let them suck up to you and offer you money or favours, and then you decide who gets it. If no-one wants your CD, or if everyone else's CDs are even worse than yours, you drown your sorrows in whatever you have brought along for that purpose, while you top yourself up with food that I will provide, and you eventually go home again with your undersirable offering. I do have a CD player, so people can listen to the CDs before they decide.

Please do not feel restricted by genre. Audiobooks are welcome too. I have at least ten CDs of my own to offer. They are mostly the works of composers such as Milhaud, Stravinsky, Prokoffiev and Poulenc, who did in fact also write some decent music in their lives; but I somehow got landed with the most stressful of their compositions when my father cleared out his CD shelf. Several of these CDs are ballets, but I am afraid that I don't find them very listenable and would like to exchange them for something more to my own taste. I also have some dreary pop and some hyperactive Ibiza techno.

Let me know if you want to come, and keep watching this blog until the 3rd for confirmation of the guest list and for any changes in the arrangements. I can only accommodate 10 people. If you can accommodate more, let me know, so that we can have the party at your place instead.

My right to obey the law

To the driver of the Beyerskloof bakkie who tried to force me off the road, the driver of the car with the Western Cape registration number RADIO, and hundreds of other motorists who use the road from Stellenbosch to the Bottelary Road, and the Bottelary Road itself

Since you evidently do not recognise that you have a duty to obey the law, let me talk instead about rights. I have a right to travel within the speed limit. If the speed limit for a particular section of road is 100 km per hour and I am traveling at 100 km, I do not have to pull aside in order for you to overtake me, as doing so would mean that I would be facilitating your crime. Traveling at more than 100 km per hour in a 100 km zone is a crime.

Furthermore, the law permits me to pull over onto the road shoulder only if I deem it safe to do so, which I will occasionally do if the road is long and straight and if I see that I will be able to get back onto the road itself rather than being forced to drive on the shoulder by a long line of fast-moving traffic behind me. Also, if I were to drive on the road shoulder, and I if I were then involved in an accident, I would be held legally responsible. I therefore prefer to drive on the road itself. In fact, I believe that I actually have more of a right to drive on the road than you do, since I obey the law and you don't. And lastly, it is illegal to move over onto the road shoulder after sunset. So you cannot ever expect me to do so as a courtesy to you.

I will pull over wherever possible for emergency vehicles.

I agree with all of you that the part of the road from the Kuils River Golf Course to beyond the Soneike traffic lights and all the way up to the Stikland traffic lights doesn't really feel like a 70 km zone. But while it still is a 70 km zone, I will jolly well obey the law and drive at 70 km per hour there.

Those of you who like to overtake me on the double white line on that blind corner just beyond the golf course should perhaps note that in addition to numerous other accidents along that little stretch, there was an accident once that left a little boy orphaned: his mother, father and brother all died, and he alone was pulled out of the wreckage alive. (I passed the scene myself about an hour later.)

In exceptional circumstances I will pull aside if I think that the risk I am about to take could result in an accident less harmful to other road users than that which your stupid wrecklessness could cause if I don't move aside for you.

My personal wish for you is that as a result of your wreckless driving, you should totally write off your car somewhere nice and safe and in the presence of many witnesses, and climb out of the mangled remains totally unharmed and in great physical shape well suited to working to pay off that which your insurance refuses to cover. And that the witnesses all tell amusing stories about you to the Kaapse Son.

To all the road users who make mistakes and who have accidents in spite of doing their best to be good citizens

Amen. My sympathies and respect.

Some quick notes about the music of a song for which the lyrics and basic melody were devised at around half past three this morning (and this time it was my own fault that I couldn't sleep)...

Intro must be blues-ified, i.e. make the top note of the chord flat. Then go to the regular major (C, with chords of F and G, and at the transition between the verses, that modified G-thing with semiquavers of CDG instead of ADG). Melody starts on G below middle C, and doesn't go lower than the E. At end of first verse add some repetitive bang-bang-bang-bang CDG stuff before settling out with a CDF-sharp, and then launch into the second verse, which is an octave higher if you are warmed up enough to handle the highest note, which could be as high as the F above the C above middle C. End the whole thing again with one or two blues chords and then possibly a C major chord. Simple and straightforward rock groove, but possibly with two bass drum quavers on the third beat every few bars, and some frilly bits before and between the verses.

Zzz...

Nee... Om twintig oor een in die oggend van 'n werksdag is ek ten spyte van die feit dat ek nie alkohol gebruik nie, so nugter soos 'n dronk mens. As ek dan sê dis OK, dan beteken dit nie dis OK nie, want ek is nie in staat om goeie besluite te neem nie. Ek het definitief te min geslaap. In fact, ek was sewe-uur al so vaak dat ek eintlik vir Deon ook moes gesê het om vroër te kom, let alone the fact dat ek nadat ek gaan slaap het weer opgestaan het en 'n driekwartuur met jou gesels het. Mikhailo het my sesuur vanoggend verwag en ek het eers na sewe daar opgedaag. Vanoggend by die werk het ek Guronsan C gedrink in plaas van my gebruiklike koppie tee. I will repent. AGAIN. Zzzzz...

Onomastomania

Those who have known me for a long time know that amongst other things I am an onomastomaniac. The most interesting name that I came across in 2006 is that of a Namibian student who attended a course I presented at the University of Stellenbosch Graduate School of Business in December. His name is Kuyaraara Katjepunda. I think it would sound nice as part of the backing lyrics for a song.

Branding

Modern marketing experts will tell you that when it comes to branding, a logo is really not as big a thing as we used to think it was. They will cite as examples the cigarette companies who were forced to do away with logos in countries and media where anti-tobacco legislation is becoming stricter, and will tell you that many cigarette manufacturers have managed to remain strongly branded in spite of the absence of logos in ads.

Notwithstanding all of that wisdom, I just wanted to share the joy of a most striking logo which recently came to my attention, one which I think holds promise for good brand recognition once it gets onto site boards, offices and vehicles. One of Pavatile's customers, landscape architect René van der Westhuizen, recently launched a new company, Viridian Consulting. They refer to their professional playpen as the Green Industry and this is their logo. Come on, now don't you think it's nice?

Weg

Anton en Liezel het vandag vertrek. Ek het verslaap en moes dus telefonies groet. Ek is baie sad dat hulle teruggaan Australië toe want ons het lekker gekuier en ek gaan verlang. As ek sou saamgegaan het lughawe toe, sou ek gehuil het. (Selfs komplekse filosofiese mense het onderliggend eintlik maar doodgewone eenvoudige emosies.)


Ek en Anton tydens die vakansie op die Breede Rivier.

Sunday

This will have to be quick. So much to do, so little time.

On Wednesday I finally had my first formal drum lesson. It was difficult! I got sheet music, and I was sent off to buy my own drumsticks. I feel like a ten-year-old with a new Barbie: I have been taking my drumsticks nearly everywhere with me, and I have been practicing on everything (including suitcases and furniture) since I obviously don't have a drum kit at home.


Setting up for my first drum lesson.

I also recently discovered an eccentric composer called Erik Satie and downloaded some of the sheet music for the piano. It is not all that difficult, but because I am so frightfully out of practice it takes me hours to play just a page and a half. It is curious music; to me it sounds to like ballet exercises for wistful waifs.

On Thursday I went to a psychologist. I spent two hours there, only to find out to my great disappointment that I am not mad at all. I think it did do me some good, though. Although I still feel anxious sometimes, at least I am feeling less guilty about the remedies I am using.

Anton, Liezel, Mikhailo and I went out for a dinner-and-dance at Pigalle last night. It was very nice, but also very expensive. We did not expect it to be economical, but we were surprised when they charged us R40 for the breadrolls — the kind of item that most restaurants throw in as a freebie; and they wouldn't give me water from a tap, which is my default drink wherever I go for supper (including at home).


Mikhailo & Anton at Pigalle.


Stuff on the floor this morning, when I woke up.

I am in the office now. I brought along one of my neighbours, Lina, who has just arrived in South Africa from Germany and who doesn't know anyone yet. She's doing some Internet correspondence while I... oops, I am supposed to be here to work, not to blog! Bye!