e-Tolls And Other Biblical Plagues

                       

So e-tolls are finally a reality on Gauteng roads and the mass hysteria that greeted the initial announcement of governments latest plan to fleece taxpayers has fizzled down to little more than a poodle pissing on a giant oak tree.

All the barking and growling we did as a society and all the threats of civil disobedience seemed to fade into oblivion the day the tolling system went live. I followed with keen interest the social media platforms in the weeks leading up to the Go Live date, 03 December 2013.

People were commenting on online forums, writing in to newspapers, tweeting, blogging, calling in to radio stations, sticking protest stickers on their vehicles all in an effort to show their dissatisfaction at governments decision to go ahead with tolling against public opinion.

I imagined this being the start of our very own Egyptian Spring.

The kind of massive uprising that would galvanize a nation and make us more militant and unwavering in our steadfastness and belief in a cause.

Cue my surprise or lack thereof when we collectively, as a nation, held each other's hands and did what we have become so efficient at doing: we choked.

We choked like we do on the cricket field (and the haters can form a straight line to kiss my arse while singing the national anthem and calling me unpatriotic)

We choked like we do on the soccer field (haters can refer to my suggestion above or reply with stats and facts of our brilliant on-field performances in the beautiful game over the last 50 years)

We choked because we've become so complacent in all aspects of our lives.

Our idea of standing up for a cause and fighting the good fight is hitting 'Like' on a Facebook post that calls for activism, or adding our name to petitions, or tossing a few coins into a collection can.

A sleeping sloth hoping and waiting for a bug to land on its tongue has more determination and dedication than we do as a society.

The shoelace of the guy who applies Vaseline to an amateur lightweight boxer has more fight in it than we do.

The fly hovering around the anus of a donkey's carcass about to be ravaged by a vulture has more courage than we do.

I think you get the point.

"So what brave show of activism have you accomplished?" I hear you ask.

Well let's just say that I'm in the process of acquiring a few plasma-cutters and industrial angle grinders, some steel cables and hooks, a helicopter, and a rather large dustbin bag of good quality Durban weed.

Inbox me if you're keen on having a brilliant time while farting in the face of tyranny and state-sponsored corruption.

I guarantee that you'll wake up the next day being a hero with not the faintest idea why.

The Sooffah Comedy Couch Session

Friday nights comedy session reminded me once again why I love Stand Up so much. Our host for the evening, Nadiem Solomon, had asked me almost a year ago to join them at the Sooffah Comedy Couch sessions and I always put the idea on the back-burner.
Within two minutes of being up on stage, I realized that this kind of adrenalin rush should never be postponed. Like a visit to your proctologist, it's the kind of opportunity you should put right up there on the top of your list of things to do.

Speaking of lists and what belongs right up on top of them, the line-up of comedians that Nadiem puts together and the talent he nurtures is truly inspiring. I remember the first time I was catapulted onto the stage. I blogged about it here.
It didn't take long to learn that the bigger the headline act, the bigger the ego and the more pompous they became. It was a refreshing change to work with professionals who know and understand their history and purpose and really make a concerted effort to help new comedians.
Marc Lottering is one such professional.

I was privileged and honored to share a stage with him earlier this year and blogged about it here (at this point my damn links stopped working on Blogger!) http://www.thekalooreport.blogspot.com/2013/03/the-punchline-comedy-gig.html 

Then along came Nadiem Solomon and his comedy incubator, the Sooffah Comedy Couch.

The audience is amazingly hungry for laughs, and they clearly appreciate the young talent presented to them. The atmosphere is conducive to comedy with the air alive with excitement and a fantastic energy through the theatre.

At first I thought it was the extra hot Nandos I had snorted earlier, but the evenings buzz was a definite combination of audience excitement and comedians nerves.

What I really appreciated was the time Nadiem takes to warm the audience up before the comedians start their sets. You only really appreciate this when you're standing backstage waiting to come on and you already hear the crowd laughing and rolling in their seats.

Big crowds are nerve-wrecking.

Random audiences like I experienced at Parker's are honestly a lucky packet. You could get an entire group of suits out on a corporate evening on one night, followed by a bunch of teenagers out on a jol on the next. Your material needs to adapt to each group, and changing material on the night is a daunting task. Taking nothing away from Parker's, it really is a tough crowd.

What makes Sooffah Comedy Couch different is that the audience almost feels personal. Like you're performing in front of your friends or family, and you can tell that they WANT you to do well.

Here's wishing Nadiem and his amazing venture all the very best. I sense great talent maturing and developing at this venue.

Friday nights line-up included a smorgasbord of talent covering every genre and topic.

Lihle Lindzy Msimang

Jzuan Dreyer

Graham Shirley

Ian Campbell 

Thapelo King Flat Mametja

Myself and of course our host, Nadiem Solomon.

Lihle Lindzy Msimang is an absolute powerhouse and I reckon you will see her name in lights very soon! The 5 minutes with her backstage before my set was probably worth a years comedy workshops!

So here's to more laughs and awesome comedy and definitely more squeaky-bum moments just before getting up on stage. There is nothing that compares to that kind of raw adrenalin rush. Bungee jumping is fantastic, but there's no chance of bombing in front of a live audience when you're dangling from a rope in mid-air.

Eulogy To An Amazing Grandmother

My Gran aged 90 passed away this week, and after having given her eulogy I was asked to post it on the blog. No amount of words could sum up what she meant to so many people. I humbly present to you my feeble attempt.

                                      

Mavis.
Aunty Mavis.
Mummy.
Dadi.
Nani.
A rose by any other name would smell as sweet.

I was asked to say a few words on behalf of the children, grandchildren and great grandchildren present here today, and as I sat down to pen my thoughts I was suddenly struck with the enormity of the task that lay before me.
How could I possibly encapsulate my grans 90 amazing and wonderful years into just a few short minutes?
How does one describe such a beautiful soul in just a few paragraphs?
My Grans passing presented a very unique situation to us as a family. It presented a situation which required wisdom, understanding, patience and respect from both sides of two different yet very similar religious beliefs.
As I look around this congregation here today, I can’t help but smile at the beauty and blessings of the last and final act of a unique woman. We are all here today, friends and companions included, as one family. Wiser. More understanding. More patient. And certainly more respectful of each other.

A mother to her children.
A grandmother to her grandchildren.
An aunt to her nieces and nephews.
A friend to her companions.
A healer to the sick.
A source of comfort to the destitute.
A humble servant of God.
You’ve been so many things to so many people, but to me and those you have left behind you will always be a shining example of a truly beautiful, admirable, compassionate and graceful human being.


One of my favourite memories of Nani happened during a family road trip to what was then known as the Eastern Transvaal more than 20 years ago. I’d packed a selection of music tapes for the long journey ahead, and at some point while I was driving I changed the tape. The music started and as the lyrics began, I heard this voice from the back seat singing along so beautifully that I lost track of my driving and got pulled over for speeding.
The words were Louis Armstrong’s “What A Wonderful World” but the voice was all Nani’s.

I see trees of green, red roses, too,
I see them bloom, for me and you
And I think to myself
What a wonderful world.

To this day, trees of green, red roses in bloom, always remind me of what a wonderful world it was with you in it Nani.

It’s the little things that seem to stand out the most when I think about my gran —her beaming smile when you complimented her on her outfit. Her huge all-embracing hug that made you feel like she was enveloping your very soul and you never wanted to let go. The scent of her lingered about long after the hug had been forgotten. Her words of wisdom which seemed to flow like an eternal spring. Her always quoting just the right verse from the bible to remind you that no matter what your troubles or fears, this too shall pass and you always ended up leaving her with a sense of contentment, certainty and calmness. There are so many things that I can see and feel as if they had just happened.
I’m sure everyone here has memories much like mine. They are good memories, something we’ll always have to cherish. It isn’t often in our lives that we come across someone so special that that person stays with you forever. Nani was that kind of person.
The kind of love Nani felt for us was a love without condition. She just kept loving us, letting us know that she was there and if we ever needed her, we could count on her to listen, to comfort, to help.
She lived a simple life. It didn’t take much to make her happy—a phone call, an sms, a card, a visit or taking her to lunch at Ocean Basket. We were the most important people in the world to her. She lived to make our lives better and was proud of us.
To think that someone like her felt that way about us should make us all feel more than just a little good. We can never forget that there is a part of her in each of us, something that she gave to us and asked nothing for in return.
Money can be squandered and property ruined, but what we inherited from her cannot be damaged, destroyed or lost. Throughout our trials and tribulations, and I pray that there won’t be many, the greatest lesson I have learnt from Nani is quite simply to have faith. She woke up with the word of God on her breath, she spoke the word of God and lived a life observant of God every day, and went to bed with God as her last word.


There have been and will be times in our lives when situations arise where we’ll want so much to talk to her, be with her or ask her just what we should do. I hope that, when those times come, we can begin to look to each other and find that part of her that she gave to each of us.
Maybe we can learn to lean on each other and rely on each other the way we always knew that we could with her. Maybe then she won’t seem quite so far away.
So, for your wisdom, your humour, tenderness and compassion, your understanding, your patience and your love; thank you and I love you.

To my uncle’s Vaughn and Rashid and his wife Amina, my mom Rashida, my siblings Shamima, Aadilah and Faheem, to Aunty Ray and your entire amazing family, to everybody in attendance here today, I thank you for your guidance and your wisdom and pray that Nani’s vision of keeping us all together stays true.


Go in peace Nani.
Allah Hafez.

Stopping To Smell The Flowers

Some time back, probably about a year and a half ago, a friend of mine said something to me that made me smile and say a silent prayer of gratitude.
We had been talking about what constitutes a blessed life, and I had just done telling him that I am filled with a sense of contentment and peace. An inner peace that came from knowing that I was comfortable with where my life was at, satisfied with the direction it was going in and extremely optimistic about the future. It was the kind of contentment that comes from finally absorbing all that life has blessed you with, and being able to exhale knowing that you are exactly where you were meant to be in your journey.

It was at this point that he said he yearns for that kind of peace and contentment.
It was also at this point that I realized just how truly grateful I should be for all the wonderful people in my life, and all the amazing roads I have seen along my journey to have reached the point I was at just then.

That was over a year ago.

Since that day I have embarked on new ventures and pursuits, chased new dreams and taken on more challenges.
I have thrown caution to the wind and tried to explore new shores.
In my pursuit of achieving great success, I have also made great sacrifices. I realized recently that chief amongst those sacrifices has been the very essence of what made me so content and peaceful not so long ago.

Sometimes we're so eager to get to the destination, that we forget to stop along the way and smell the flowers. The picture above is of my daughter Zia in deep contemplation. 
Maybe she's taken a moment to listen to her breathing.
Maybe she's taken a moment to think about her next breathtaking smile or giggle.
Or maybe she's simply telling me "Slow down Dad. Pause for a while. I know you'll get there in the end... but it's the now that really counts."

This is a video of Zia taking her first steps.
These are the moments I shall cherish through my journey.

Dalliances With Wolves

Someone I've known for a while now and who by pure circumstance has become a really good friend sent me this link earlier today.
The Social Media Sabbatical

We'd been discussing the virtues and perils of being too exposed on social media, and as a self-confessed attention whore I never really thought there was much downside to being "Out there."
Recent events made me think otherwise.

Lately there has been a spate of Facebook clonings which poses security risks of unprecedented levels. Imagine having your entire Facebook account cloned, and then have the perpetrator send out messages from your account requesting urgent financial help or worse still, have them set up casual meetings under your name only to injure or harm your friends when they arrive.
Scary?
Absolutely.
Scarier is that it's already happened and is still happening. Note the number of people urging their Facebook friends not to respond to requests for money or help if they received such messages.

Maybe not as dangerous but certainly equally scary if not scarier are the twisted perceptions friends or followers of yours on social media networks portray of you to others.
I've never shied away from the fact that I'm an extrovert and a borderline flirt. I use that word 'borderline' loosely, but it certainly doesn't make me loose by character.
Imagine my surprise when I found out through newly acquired friends that there were some out there who were portraying my tweets and status updates as having deeper and more sinister meanings than what I, the author of those tweets and status updates, had intended?!

I found myself subconsciously scrutinizing my written word. I'd think twice before posting anything online, be it on Twitter or Facebook or my blog. I found myself censoring myself, and I hated it. I hated it as much as I hate censorship. I hated it because it made me realize how trivial people can be when it comes to friendship.
Mostly, it made me realize that simply because Twitter says you have 1200 followers it by no means indicates that 1200 people like or respect you.
It made me realize that simply because Facebook says you have 1000 friends, you should never fool yourself into thinking that they're all your friends.

There were some hard lessons learnt lately. Right up on the top of that list of lessons learnt is that those who preach and pretend to be decent and good human beings, are in fact masking some serious character flaws.
If you have to quote scripture to exemplify your goodness, the truth is that you're probably a really shitty human being to start off with.

Growing up, my mom always said that if I keep finding fault in my friends and people I regard as dear and close to me, and I keep having to change my inner circle, than the problem is probably not them, but me.
No truer word has been spoken in relation to friendship.

So I contemplated taking the social media sabbatical.
I thought about it for quite some time. I even slowed down on my online activity.
Until tonight when I realized that by doing so, I would be succumbing to the very ideology I detest. I would be succumbing to censorship of the worst order.
I would be succumbing to censorship by those I once considered dear friends.

I'll be a tad more circumspect and cautious, but I'll be damned if I'm going to be silenced!

The Tale Of Two Faces

There was a time when I regarded very highly those who had pursued further education in religious study. That was a long long time ago.

I soon realized that people have a tendency to be complete arseholes in real life while pretending to be Holier-Than-Thou Saints, especially on social networks.
Now I'm never shy to admit to being a sinner. Heck I wear that badge with pride, because I'm no hypocrite and I never preach to the choir. I do however take serious exception to those who question and criticize others, worse still when it's done behind the veil of religion and scripture, while knowing full well that their own doorsteps are far from clean.

Maybe I'd be more understanding if they realized their shortcomings and did the noble thing by apologizing for being two-faced.
Maybe I'd be more understanding if they simply acknowledged their oversight.
Maybe.

I guess it's not that easy when the line between your real self and your fake self is blurred.
When you look in the mirror, how do you decide between which face to apply lipstick to and which face to slap?

Here ends the rant :)

Let Him Who Has Not Sinned...

I feel like I've started almost every blog post with the same opening line: "What an interesting weekend that was!"

So this post will be slightly different.

Damn! That was one exciting weekend!
On Saturday night I found my new favourite restaurant. Yes I know my favourite restaurant keeps changing every month, and yes I'd probably make a half-decent food critic given the chance, but I do enjoy a good meal even if I am spoilt with having exactly that at home.

Ottoman Palace at the Turkish Mosque complex in Midrand served up the kind of lamb that would make any lamb proud to be on a platter next to some hummus and Turkish bread. Even Bambi would be like "Damn that was some fine lamb!"

Now if you've been following me on Twitter (@kaloo5) you would know that for months now I have been singing the praises of India Coffee House in Fordsburg. That all came to an abrupt end this Sunday past when their service reached such shockingly low standards, I was tempted to march into their kitchen and cook up my own korma with rice. I understand it was Mother's Day and they were busier than usual, but to have the waiter promise you your ginger drink on 5, yes five separate occasions and still not have it brought to my table an hour and 30 minutes after having arrived, is quite unacceptable. I was busy settling the bill when he finally realized his mistake.
I don't care that he then served up 8 desserts on the house.
I don't care that he didn't charge for any of the numerous drinks on the bill.
I don't care that he brought complimentary masala tea's to make up for his mistake.
I'm not that easily bought.
So India Coffee House gets a massive Thumbs Down from me!

Just when I thought my weekend could not get any more dramatic (for lack of a better word), a friend and fellow blogger wrote a piece about Rock Concerts.
Well in truth the piece was more about Muslims attending rock concerts unashamedly, and then posting the details all over the social media forums.
Needless to say, opinions on both sides of the divide were unleashed like a pack of wolves upon an injured bear. I say 'bear' because bears are generally brave, and know full well when they're about to go into battle, and are quite capable of defending themselves when in battle. They never back down, they never run away, and you never see them cowering behind the bushes.

I'm not sure what this bear intends doing now that the wolves have been unleashed.
If it acts like a bear, and growls like a bear, than it should be a bear when the need arises. That is after all, the simple bear necessities.

GGRRRR!!! ;)

Sunday night ended with a raging debate on Twitter over land reform issues in this country (South Africa for my foreign readers).
Well I call it a raging debate. My opponent seemed to be more on a racist rant than in a debate.
His solution to tackling the intricate and complex land reform issue: simply grab it from all non-blacks in the country. If people protest and try to defend their constitutional rights, send them back to their countries of origin!
In short, his view was that Africa belonged to black Africans, and nobody else.

Oh, did I mention that while he was throwing his spears and knobkerries at every colonialist and foreigner within earshot, he forgot to mention that his middle name was Lloyd?
That's the beauty of the Internet. If you enter through these doors and try to pick a fight, you can't do it anonymously.
So when I called him out on his clearly English name, he suddenly changed tact and said he'd have it removed or changed at some point.

Nicely played Lloyd.
Come to a gunfight armed with a plastic teaspoon.

Here's to another exciting weekend :)