Penis

Driving to the airport yesterday with a colleague from India. 

I was asking him about the Indian culture of men holding hands and generally being more tactile with each other. But not gay. There are no gays in India, he told me.

He laughed and said it was a little awkward for him and his Indian friends in South Africa because sometimes they would smack each other playfully on the arse without thinking. Playfully smacking another man on the arse is embedded in the national psyche and almost impossible to avoid. 

But people from other backgrounds think this behaviour most strange and he has to curtail his arse smacking instincts. Terrible shame.

I said to him just be careful you don't touch anyone's penis and you should be fine.

He didn't say anything. We drove on in silence. I think I'd taken a good idea and overworked it. 

Wine

It used to be generally accepted that if you were having, say, beef or lamb then you'd drink a red wine. Whereas if you were having chicken or fish then a white wine would most likely be the best match.

Of course there has always been exceptions to these rules. For example a hearty bouillabaisse would most likely find a suitable bedfellow in a robust red. And perhaps a salad with thinly sliced carpaccio of beef would fare better alongside a lighter white. This was ever thus.

I believe that ignorant people in France and Italy who know nothing of these matters still hold on to these antiquated ideals. Poor saps.

But all has changed now it seems. There was a magazine article in some magazine or other and this changed the accepted wisdom completely. The article said that it didn't matter a jot what you were eating. It said you must drink whatever wine you preferred. This magazine article may or may not existed but it caused a collective sigh of relief the world over. No more would food and wine fascists be able to dictate how people lived. 

Now, if I were to suggest to you that a fragrant Semillon Blanc might not quite be the most fitting partner to your venison loin you just tell me to go stick it. You can tell me that these silly rules no longer apply. It simply doesn't matter any more. It said so in the magazine article.

Departure

Sitting in the business lounge at Joburg airport. Minding my own business.

Some funny people here though...

An Austrian woman just berated me for lifting my sandwich to my mouth (the better to eat it) without lifting the plate over. I was making crumbs I suppose and she disapproved.

Technically, of course, she was in the right but what a bloody nerve. Then she demanded that I get her some biscuits:

"I have one piece of cheese and I require some biscuits to accompany it with", she told me. 

So I got her the biscuits and watched her very carefully while she ate. Not one single fucking crumb. I'd definitely throw the great brute out of bed but it wouldn't be for making crumbs that's for sure. 

Of course the drink here is quite free. And that seems to be forcing people into drinking weird combinations. I, myself, am sticking to G&T's with nothing more complicated than beer on the side. In the classic style. 

The man opposite me, though, has tonic water, ginger ale, coke and red wine. Crazy. Frau Hitler over the way is drinking baileys, sparking water and still water. She's mixing the sparking and still water in the same glass. I can only assume that makes it less fizzy (or less still) but I daren't ask her in case she starts picking on me again.

I'm thinking about my friend Tom. He always used to insist on me having a beer with my G&T. I'm drinking to him tonight. As I sit here in this lounge he's fighting for his life in hospital. I can hardly believe it. 

If I don't get the chance to see you again, Tam, just want to say I love you mate. Always did.

Layman

In this incendiary 1967 recording Monsignor Henry Beck discusses the perplexing and divisive subject of religious involvement in the lay world.

To cut to the chase this Monsignor is most strongly agin it.

Monsignor Beck lays out his arguments in a clear and incisive way that even a layman can just about comprehend. 

The argument over whether religion should have any involvement in the lay world is one that had divided theologians since time immemorial. 

I, myself, have always had a deep interest in the subject but I could never really make my mind up on this thorny issue.

This morning, however, my mind became clear on the tenth consecutive listen to this landmark sermon. I agree fully with the Monsignor's viewpoint:

Religion can play no part in human life.

INXS

Fans of the Australian rock band INXS are, as one, of the view that the band's best songs came from their first album. So my friend and driver for the day, Damian, told me yesterday.

As I listened to some of these tracks in his car yesterday I couldn't help thinking that this was about the equivalent of proclaiming The Wereth Killings, in which only eleven American soldiers were shot by the SS in cold blood, as one of Hitler's least bad atrocities.

But I didn't say anything in case he threw me out his car. And by extension had me killed.

Black

Tonight to try and balance things out after my appallingly caucasian day I went for a few drinks in a black bar. It was 99% black, anyway, and there was exactly 100 people there. 

As I sat sipping my Tom Collins I tried hard not to look around for any white people in case I got caught looking around for white people. Instead I watched a table full of youngsters celebrating finishing their exams . Everyone was having a great time. The girls there had more shapes than a flowchart stencil and the boys all looked fly. 

I looked like an idiot so I let them be and went for a curry.

Erections

On the way home through one of the many hopelessly depressing townships we saw a sign which said:

LARGE ERECTION COMING SOON

We laughed but it was hollow laughter. As hollow as the flaccid looking corrugated iron huts that these desperately poor people called home.

Though another town the kids were holding signs saying:

PLEASE MAKE A DONATION TO OUR LOCAL CRICKET CLUB

Ten out of ten for ingenuity but, frankly, I'd rather see them starve.

Joking...

White

My getup today was as follows:

1. Orange Hawaiian shirt (Boss) (borrowed)
   
2. Greenish camouflage safari hat (borrowed)
   
3. American tourist style shorts (mine) (as seen here)
   
4. New crocs (green with orange trim) (er, mine)
   
5. Cigar (to complete the look)

What look?

The look, chum. It was a good look believe me.

Only thing. I never felt so damned white in all my life. I'd never looked so white in all my life. I was the whitest person in Sun City by a Hawaiian shirt and a camouflage safari hat.

They were trying not to I could tell, but everyone was looking at me enviously. And smiling to each other.

Lightning

The best footballer ever to come from my home town was without doubt John White.

John played for Spurs and was known as "the ghost" for his uncanny ability to appear as if from nowhere in the box. And when the ghost appeared he invariably scored. Like in the picture above where he's probably scoring against Blackpool.

Tragically John was killed by lightning whilst playing golf in 1964.  He was only 27 years of age and at the peak of his career.

My uncle knew him well and tells me he was an absolute gentleman as well as a genius on the football park. 

On the eighteenth green today watching Lee Westwood about to putt I felt a few wet drops on my neck and assumed it was merely the drunk kid behind me pouring lager down my back for a laugh. But within a few seconds the rain was pouring and there was a loud rumble of thunder. Soon after there were streaks of magnificent lightening across the sky.

For heavens sake, I thought, surely it's not about to take the second best footballer ever to grace that honest toun.

Issues

Unfortunately I was unable to go to the office Xmas [1] party tonight due to personal issues. It was a total freebie too.

So I went to my favourite Thai restaurant and was forced to drink mojitos and hot and sour soup instead. I took a look at the angry duck and it looked right back at me and told me to have the Larb Gai. So I did. And I had to spend actual money and it was ghastly.

A similar situation will prevail next Friday at another Ch'mas [2] party. Again, my absence can be correctly attributed to "personal issues". Instead I will be forced to stay home and drink bottle after bottle of expensive Black Sheep ale and watch QI. The horror!

What are these issues you speak of?

Well, frankly, they're personal.

[1] yes, it would be too much trouble to write the name of Our Savour in full.

[2] still, yes.