Dear Mr President
It's so unfair that so many people made fun of your pothole closing ceremony. I was inspired. I see it as symbolic of your covering up..., I mean, covering the yawning chasms into which our taxes have been tumbling these past twenty-eight years or so.
I experienced a similar, if slightly less electrifying thrill, when I saw Mr Cele confiscate liquor from a desperado at a roadblock during lockdown. People do not understand the long game. Liquor here, a surfer there, a gqom music aficionado.... all building up to the day when he proudly parades a crestfallen gang of mass murderers. And they shrink at the lash of his tongue.
Similarly, sir, it begins with a pothole ceremony, a community tap unveiling, a toilet ribbon-cutting ceremony, a flag monument... You were at the wheel of a piece of pothole repair machinery. I looked beyond that moment to the day that you will be seated in the caboose of a bullet train, bright smart-city lights winking in the distance. Loadshedding permitting.
Sir, you may not be moering the ball out of the park, as in a twenty-twenty game. This is a five day (read thirty year) contest. A block here, a leave there, a stroll down the wicket to chat..the game drags..., sorry, goes on.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with one filled pothole. Some people complain that you should be spending your time on really important things. What could be more important than a glorious photo opportunity? There have been so few. As the 2024 elections approach, can we expect Time Magazine quality photos of MPs and cabinet ministers helping senior citizens across the street?
Yours in the struggle against potholes and, er, ass ....
Richard
Tips for the blogger gratefully accepted
Capitec Bank, South Africa
1378565477
O Tichmann
+27 833970723
No comments:
Post a Comment