Proteas are the bomb!
In this house we are properly celebrating. Big Friendly is on Cricinfo pretty much all the time now, checking stats and sharing cricket news with me, and I am gloating that on news24 the top story is the cricket and below it is the disbanding of the scorpions.
I must confess, and remember, that before they left for Oz , I had my reservations about the Proteas and how they would manage playing the world champs at home. Which is why their absolute success has delighted me no end. I am proud and happy and excited. I can’t wait for the Oz team to get here. I want to try and get to some of the test here at Sahara Park, Newlands, one of my favourihte places in the world, and Big Friendly and I have spoken about celebrating my birthday at the ODI.
I am enraptured with JP Duminy. Johan Botha filled some massive shoes really superbly when he took over the captaincy of the one day side (in fact, Big Friendly and I have discussed his brilliance at giving newcomers a go, with total support and trust) and Hashim (screamed Hasheeeeeeeem) is our guy. Oh and Albie Morkel. And AB de Villiers. Ok, the whole team. Oh we are just so completely stoked ek se!
let’s talk 567
I’m having a week of radio stuff. Today I am marching off to the Cape Talk studio to have a chat with Soli Philander about stuff, mainly theatre reviews and blogging. I love chatting to Soli. I don’t know if anyone remembers the last time Soli had a show on 567 Cape Talk, I would join him on a Friday arvie for Meg’s Moan In, where I would complain bitterly about all sorts of things. A lot like, this blog actually. So if you’re near a radio at 14h30, give us a listen.
I love talk radio as well. I don’t know if anyone listened to the Cape Talk drive on Monday to raise money to feed and care for orphans? They raised a whopping three and a half million Rand! Children phoned in to pledge pocket money, grannies called in to give their few Rands worth. I wept. Capetonians can be amazing!
Never too early to Moan
It’s six in the morning and Big Friendly has just made the coffee. In half an hour the last ODI in Australia starts and it should be fun, especially since the Proteas have already won the series. Nothing like rubbing an Australian nose in a bit of Outback dust. So that’s why I’m up.
But this is on my mind. If you are a Capetonian, or even a frequent visitor to the city, you will have stopped at the Orange Street Engen and Woolies. It’s a landmark. And it’s a great after hours supply store. I even think kids jaul there on weekend nights. I stopped there last night to pick up something at about seven. And got stuck in a traffic jam and I was on foot! What is it with all the moegoes, mainly in fancy cars, who shun an almost empty parking lot ON the premises and clog and jam the drive outside the shop door? I just don’t get it. I also don’t like parking miles away, if it’s dark, or cold, or dangerous. But come on! This parking space is right there! In the light. No, every moegoe stops their car outside the door. Cars getting petrol can’t leave without reversing. Cars trying to leave the Engen can’t. And I was almost run over as I exited the sliding door.
That’s it. I am really going to try and avoid it from now on. Until I need that damn packet of mixed Italian salad!
Is it Just Me or… take 2
Big Friendly and I are probably the only two human beings in SA who watch the ridiculously named Kaboom pro 2020 domestic tournament. Ok, ok, it really is obscure, but, is it just me who finds the new Standard Bank ‘dancing girls’ completely, totally ridiculous and squeamishly embarrassing? I remember with the international championship there were those teams of dancers who jumped up after every four or six and did a funky little routine, but these new girls in their jean pant and black Standard Bank boob tubes are the pits. They don’t do steps or anything choreographed, they just wiggle and air hump and drag their arms over their hair. I showed Big Friendly how and he rolled off the couch. Granted, I was lying on the other one, so I can imagine what it must have looked like. Get them outa there!
is It Just Me or
has the whole of SA politics gone completely bananas? I just read this on line. “Suggestions that Advocate Muzi Wilfred Mkhize – a member of Mr Jacob Zuma’s legal team when he was originally charged with corruption and other offences – could be appointed National Director of Public Prosecutions (NDPP) are cause for the gravest concern,” IFP spokesperson Velaphi Ndlovu said.
Now I know it’s not a good idea to believe everything you read, but even if there is just a sniff of truth in this we are in the pooh. Deep, deep pooh. Poor Pikoli has got it from both sides and the suggestion that he will now be replaced by one of Zoom zoom Zuma’s legal team members is an absolute farce. Sies. Hai bo.
Mistake
I made a mistake and I really am very sorry. Putting the post up about the casting of The Tempest was wrong. I have made a lot of people very cross. I have been worrying about it and I don’t feel good. It was a private email that someone sent me and I overstepped the mark. I have often considered taking the whole thing down but I think that would be cowardly and unfair, so here, for all, is my heartfelt apology. It seems, from what I have heard, that I was also totally wrong and that it is a beautiful and amazing production, as well as being totally sold out. I officially eat humble pie and say sorry to all involved.
Radio 2000
I got an interesting call today from a producer of a show on radio 2000 who asked to speak to meganshead! I was so proud. Anyway, he is doing a programme tomorrow morning on an article that explored why black professionals don’t want to live and work in Cape Town and he was looking for a Cape Town blogger with strong opinions to debate the issue, so he asked me!
meganshead is going places I tell you. I am so chuffed.
So, naturally I have an opinion on the subject matter, even though I am white and decidedly unprofessional in many ways. But I did feel obliged to read the article and it makes for depressing reading. Cape Town is considered cold, unfriendly, a career suicide kind of backwater, without a black middle class. And it’s true. I must admit that I think it’s probably career suicide for any professional, regardless of their colour, because, let’s face it, Capetonians hate to work. The mere thought of it makes them hysterical. The last thing they want is a bunch of young, upwardly mobile black diamonds arriving early, staying late and making cash!
Anyway, let’s see what happens on the show. It’s at 07h50 tomorrow morning.
After 49 hours
I’m home after a stressful, fun and ultimately rewarding evening, although the theatre judges were very obscure and, unlike the other disciplines, we weren’t actually awarded Best blah blah blah, which was quite nice; the pieces are always so different. I love the idea of the 48hr festival, even though there are hiccups that go with the territory. My script was a Greek Tragedy, which we turned into an episode of Survivor, with a director, camera person, tribes, logs, fire place, bandanas and flags. It turned out pretty cool actually.
I look forward to the next one. Viva PANSA (and most especially the very cool and organised Nthombi.)
Almost there
I’ve had a short break and I’m almost off again; back to the theatre for the performance. We are in the second half, after interval and I’m too tired to even be nervous. It’s been fun but totally intense and I feel like we’ve been working for weeks, not just hours. My cast is great. Big Friendly and even my boet in Jozi pulled through big time for me (and organised me my soundtrack) and my designer/fifth performer has jumped in and made magic. So here goes!
12 hours in
It’s 06h10 in the morning and I can’t pretend to sleep anymore. I am properly wide awake and my brain is churning. How on earth am I going to put a play together to be performed this evening? I still have to find music, scratch around for bits of costumes and props, and then be at rehearsals at 08h30 this morning. It’s going to be a weird day. That’s the only thing I know for sure. The good news is that I’ve been blessed with an excellent, talented, positive cast. They have gone with my concept wholeheartedly, which is quite an ask. Big Friendly is also up and trying to find me the music on the web.
And speaking of Big Friendly and the web; I am so lucky to be married to a webmaster. You see, yesterday Big Friendly outed a troll. Huh? you may ask, as I did when he told me about it. A troll is a little somebody who gets their tail in a knot on the internet and leaves comments pretending to be from different people. Somebody who leaves comments with the intent of antagonising and offending. There is a saying amongst web geeks that goes "don’t feed the troll", don’t respond, in other words. You see, I couldn’t understand how an innocent comment of mine, became such an interesting focus for four people who have me on their hate list. After not much scratching, and because Big Friendly knows how to look and how it works, he showed me how all the comments came from the same IP number. So, even if you leave different email addresses and nicknames, we can still see where they come from, Eishwena. Now, in the past I have allowed everybody and anybody who isn’t spam to leave a comment on meganshead. I like a completely open, responsive forum, especially since I know that there will be people who will disagree with me on things. But I can still throw them out if I want to. I never have up until now. But henceforth James/Dewald/Eishwena/Anon, you’re gone baby, solid gone.
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Randomness
