Silliest Of Seasons

Wednesday, December 4th, 2019

Dear Fellow South Africans

We’ve had silly season for the past eight or nine years. Perhaps the difference at this time of year is the rash of traditional armed robberies. Who would have thought that villains are sentimental about Christmas?
My neighbour was in the shop at the local garage last night. She placed her order with a fellow who was emptying the till contents into a bag. Perhaps preoccupied with the gathering storm outside, she assumed that he was a member of the management. She asked him to ’shesha’, as the rain was on its way. He laughed and replied that he was ’shesharing’ as much as he could. My neighbour did wonder briefly why one of the other staff members was fixing her with an unblinking stare. The management member exited with his bag and a cheery farewell. Only then, horses departed, did the shop alarms let loose a futile cacophony. My neighbour did have a vague sense, during the spring cleaning of the till that something was out of kilter. This was simply because no-one ever works so fast or enthusiastically in that particular shop. That includes the ATM, which is our of order about three days in every week and on monthends. I doubt whether the robbers had a great haul in that Primrose garage. Perhaps just practice for bigger things. That is, unless our own magnificent Sweeney tracks them down, determined bloodhounds that they are. My neighbour was a little shaken, but having been through four similar episodes this year, recovered quite quickly.

Elsewhere the silliness continues. One of our politicians claimed that attempts had been made to poison, first his mind, then his body. My advice to him is: get a food taster (for a small retainer and handsome danger allowance, I am available). Also, walk softly and carry a. big stick. I have several intricately carved and decorated sticks at Black Friday prices for just such a time.

To you the same advice and offer, fellow South Africans, during this silliest of seasons. Joburg drivers, please remember that rain is a natural phenomenon and won’t harm you if you ease off on the accelerator.
Yours in the struggle against extreme silliness and the love of traditional Christmases.

Richard

What We Learned

What We Learned

June 7th, 2020 by richardjmann

It’s been said before. We learn most from the difficult times. We’ve certainly learned from this crisis what really matters in life - cigarettes and booze. Like one of our famous sons of the soil, some of us were probably ready to kill (or is it die?) for the cause. We learned, instead, to wheel and deal like hardened Black Market School of Business graduates.

Then there were those tireless, focused people, for whom no task was too menial - the food parcel thieves. Consistent to the end. The challenge for them may be what to steal next, as they limbo their way to new depths.

I thought our president started out well and decisively with the lockdown. It just wouldn’t be us though, if the irresistible call of comedy wasn’t answered by some of our leaders. I’m sure many smokers gasped with merriment at the ‘gotcha’ game one of our ministers played. The subsequent torturing of argument, reason and logic (some cynics said truth, too) must surely have provided much sorely needed comic relief.

The torturing of South Africans didnt. Some policemen and soldiers showed us what they’re really good at. It has nothing to do with their actual jobs and plenty to do with the sort of stuff that keeps psychiatrists busy. Maybe a revisiting of recruitment and basic training, dear ministers? Especially for the officers. I am open to putting in a tender. Like some comrades, Love To Tender ranks among my favourite Elvis hits.

I do hope that the honourable members learned that far more is at at stake than scoring points of order. The future can bite one’s backside quite fiercely when one trifles with the allowance called the present.

We learned too, that, many South Africans are made of finer stuff. Even the grubby food parcel kleptos can’t diminish that. There’s hope.

On The Buses

On The Buses

Wednesday, December 18th, 2019

Dear Ekhuruleni Municipality

Our popular bus driver has apparently gone on leave. I am sure that he needs it and thoroughly deserves it. It must be exhausting navigating the chaotic streets of this world class African city, with minibus taxi drivers and others making up the rules as they speed along.

The 5.20 bus did not turn up on the first day of his leave. Has he taken it along? This would also explain why the 5.50 bus goes missing in action whenever the driver is off. One then waits in fearful anticipation to see whether the last bus will turn up or not. By a combination of the laws of Sod and Murphy, this drearily inevitable event usually takes place on a cold, dark Friday evening, the Jozi streets in their most sombre evening wear. Miss that last bus and you’re in for a long walk down ’streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent’.
I understand the notion that drivers should take care of their vehicles. Isn’t it taking it too far, though, to expect them to take the buses along when they go on leave? On the Friday before Reconciliation Day, three buses did not turn up. I assume that three more drivers went on leave. The communication was consistent - none.

I foolishly thought that buses run to a schedule. Of course, it wouldn’t be Johannesburg, South Africa if you didn’t throw some delightful twists and surprises into that lot. It’s been instructive and interesting riding on the Ekhuruleni buses. You had about four strikes during the year. How on earth did you manage to find four major issues to dispute in one year? Shouldn’t you consider counselling?

Yours in the struggle to get from A to B without touring the entire alphabet.

Richard

Power Rangers

Power Rangers

Wednesday, November 29th, 2017

Dear Ms Brown

You certainly shot the lights out, that is, when they were not already out for some Eskom reason.

You have probably had the most interesting team of senior managers ever assembled in one organisation, in that remarkable power utility. Of course that excludes certain organisations of Sicilian and Colombian origin.Was this perchance the brilliant headhunting work of that legendary Saxonworld recruitment agency?

Brian, Mr Koko, the delightfully named Mr Tsotsi, your deputy, Mr Martins et al. My, how that agency must have worked to earn its fee. What a cast, what a story. I see Southern Lights (working title) as a weighty soapy keeping South Africans riveted and electrified week in, week out, barring load shedding. The ingenious deals in which some of these power pioneers were involved make the Wolf of Wall Street look like lamb on the spit by comparison. Deals that defied known business principles, logic, and for all I know, the law of gravity. But then again, who am I to argue against men of such brilliance that it merited payments seemingly equivalent to the budget of a small municipality?

I do look forward to your establishing a chair of Eskonomics at our leading universities. (We do have some left, don’t we?)

Guiding and leading this team of adventurous, paradigm-shifting leaders was you, the duchess of delegation. Disappointingly, amid this ferment of innovation, Eskom did resort to the oldest, lowest, most boring trick in the business book: pass the cost of spilled passes to the consumer. The technical term is bugger the consumer with an F.

The cut and thrust of the current inquiry will be delicious viewing when this drama sears our screens. Great dialogue. “He’s lying about my lying.” (Somewhat unfortunate turn of phrase, open to several interpretations). The ideal rejoinder would have been: ‘She’s lying about my lying about her lying.’ Stuff of Shakespearean drama. We are transfixed.

Yours in the quest for deals and drama.

Richard

Jungle

Jungle
Wednesday, December 18th, 2019

Dear Pickpocket

First, congratulations on your sublime skills. I didn’t feel a thing when you lifted my cellphone on that busy Jozi street.

It was one of the cheaper Mobicell models but I’m sure that, with your abilities, you will graduate to bigger things (Samsung, Huawei etc). The Good Book proclaims that one’s talent will bring one before kings. I hope yours brings you before a judge. Soon.

The phone doesn’t have much storage space, so i suggest that you lift a storage disk as well. The touchscreen feature often becomes a thumpscreen feature. Of course, it’s the information that’s a real loss. Google add to my woes by insisting on sending codes to the stolen phone. I suppose in their wonderful world, no-one ever changes devices. They should visit Johannesburg.

As I’m now unable to access my blog’s administration area, perhaps you could guest blog until I can. Something on the joy and fulfillment that your line of work brings might be a good start. Perhaps you could become an online Fagan, with hints, tips and instructions in the ignoble art. Some of us may need to join the profession, what with our economic woes and Eskom’s sterling contribution.

To anyone else reading this letter, if you happen to know me (Joburg being such a small village), please send vour contacts. I’m rebuilding my directory with some pain. Contact details for Halle Berry, Angelina Jolie and Pearl Thusi would be a promising beginning. I would hate them to misinterpret my silence as a lack of caring.

Dear Pickpocket, I suggest that you target some of our elected officials in future. Some seem to accept jungle law and ethics as normal in our beloved country. It shouldn’t bother them, then, as much as it bothers some of us.

Yours in shared ownership.

Richard

Swansong

Swansong
November 1st, 2017 by richardjmann

Dear Mr President

Kak dyela? (Russian for ‘How are you?’}. Now that we are about to be suffoc..sorry, enfolded in a warm embrace by the Russian bear, I’ve brushed up on useful phrases. Has some resonance for us, doesn’t it?

Now that you are about to stroll down the buttercup bordered path to retirement, I’ve racked my deficient brain for an appropriate farewell tribute. To misquote the Troubled Prince, beggar that I am, I am poor even in praise, but here goes. I am reminded of Joe Gargery’s words to Pip in Great Expectations: “Such times we had, eh, Pip, such times” If I’ve mangled the quote, pardon. Atypical, transient, global amnesia has wreaked havoc with my…er, yes, memory. that’s what it’s called. (An insidious ailment that you and your team brought into the light of day - bravo). Talking of expectations, what great expectations we had of you, sir. And you fulfilled them. Storyteller supreme, entertainer, illusionist, magician and escape artist extraordinary. Who cares about the insignificant stuff: leadership, vision…pah.

I previously published excerpts from the song that I wrote in your honour. I had planned to record it for YouTube and for posterity but couldn’t find an under R50 studio, not even in Germiston. then I present the entire song to you. I hope that you will have a string quartet or full orchestra perform it at your farewell.

Rap portion of song:

Me and my friend Mandla
We went down to Nkandla
Hoping to chill with Zuma
But all he said was ‘Phuma’

Said we want to hang with the Guptas
Won’t you introduce ‘em to us
We know you are the prime number
But all he said was ‘Hamba’

We said we want to build a palace
And you’re the man to tell us
We know the folks are jealous
You’ve got the inside track
But all he said was ‘Voetsek’

We said we know you like dancing
Almost as much as romancing
We’ve got the moves like Juluka
But all he said was ‘Suka’

We said we know you are a master
At dodging disaster
We want to take you on a world tour
They’ll all be yelling ‘encore’
You’ve got more skills than Houdini
He just said ‘Bring my mshini’

You’ve got the gift of divination
You know the Book of Revelation
Numbers - ayakwehlula
But you can count the moola
He just said ‘Niyagula,’

This part sung to the tune of ‘Guitar Man’ by Bread

Who draws the crowd and sings so loud
Baby, it’s the Nkandla Man
Who’s going to steal the show, you gotta listen to the Nkandla Man
He has made us laugh and he’s made us cry
We selected him and we don’t know why
Something keeps him giggling
Each and every day
Always has a game to play

Night after night. who shines so bright
Baby, it’s the Nkandla Man
On TV and radio, you gotta listen to the Nkandla Man
When he comes to town, everyone gets down
Cause he’s much more fun than a circus clown
Something keeps him giggling, each and every day
Always has a game to play

Eskom’s lights begin to flicker
And the future’s looking dim
The rand is getting weaker
The economy is grim
But he doesn’t seem to notice, he’s just got to find another game to play
Laugh away, Nkandla Man
Have you day, Nkandla Man

Mr President, I hope that your entire team will be in fine, full voice at your farewell.

Yours in the love of musical tributes

Richard

Not The Nine O'clock News

Not The Nine O’clock News

Friday, January 3rd, 2020

Dear Mr Former President

What a ridiculous fuss in the WMC press about your visit to a Capitec branch.  I have been to various banks many times and have never experienced anything like it. I once even invited journalists to accompany me to witness first hand the cold,grasping behaviour of our banking people as they refuse once more to lend me a trifling couple of million for basic necessities. To keep body and soul and other bits together. A saga worthy of a Dickens novel, but do you think our fearless reporters had the gonads to tackle it? Obese chance.

It’s not as if you were cradling your famous ‘mshini’ or something. A friend of mine once had a similar fuss made when he visited his local bank. It might have had to do with the Uzzi in his bag. His intentions were of the purest kind. He merely wanted to use it as collateral for a loan. The inordinately cynical prosecutor failed to grasp this simple, logical explanation.

 I tell this story to illustrate how the most normal, everyday actions can become the subject of spurious and mischievous speculation. The aforementioned WMC press are particularly at fault here. This is probably because they are bankrupt of real news. To them I say: Go to the Daily Sun, thou sluggard, and be wise. There are enough tokoloshes, zombies; witches and other interesting persons swarming across the beloved land to keep any reporter worth his or her natural sea salt in business daily.

Unfortunately, the Stellenbosch - manipulated fourth estate seems obsessed with such mundane matters as state capture. This while we are in mortal danger of being overrun by things that go ‘eish’ in the night. Have they not seen the zombie series on DSTV? I am  certain that it is loosely based on actual events in the Land Of The Free. One only has to look at their choice of leader to believe that anything is possible there. We, of course, being rational South Africans, would never make such peculiar choices.

Anyway, sir, I hope that your visit to, say, Burger King, is not accompanied by ludicrous speculation as to why you chose Pepsi over Mountain Dew. Or why you did not visit McDonalds instead. People should leave you alone to enjoy a peaceful retirement and visit whichever bank strikes your fancy.

Incidentally, please do let me know when you will be visiting a Germiston branch. I would dearly love to have a photo with you as a momento of our warm, longstanding friendship (of which you may not be fully aware, as I suspect that misguided aides have been keeping my many friendly letters away from you).

Yours in the struggle against gossip passing for news.

Richard