Megan's Head

A place where Megan gets off her head.

Month: January 2016

Where the Revolution Should Start

I went with friends to Kirstenbosch today, to see The Soil, and I came home and wrote a poem. The poem doesn’t really say how amazing The Soil are (totally, unbelievably amazing) but it is a follow on response to last year’s post after they played at Kirstenbosch last year. Here it is.

Where the Revolution Should Start

When there is a revolution let it start

At a The Soil concert

At Kirstenbosch Botanical Gardens

Let it start as the people

In  their gorgeousnessandhighheels

With cooler boxes stuffed

And sun block and sun hats and lip gloss

And mirror shades

And torn jeans and huge gold bling

And shweshwe skirts and loose fitting pants

All arrive to take over the space

And the sun-red tourists

And old people in comfortable shoes and walking sticks

And parents pushing sleepy babies in complicated prams

Scurry from what has been a silent, almost holy white place

When the revolution starts let it be

As the gates open and we rush in to grab our spot

On the manicured lawn in the tiniest section

Of blessed shade because kushushu, I’m telling you

When it starts let it be

As we wait and check out our new neighbours

Even the ones who stand on our blankets

Spread tight and wide as possible

To hold our bodies.

Let it start as we cluck in disapproval

At that one, too much make up, and that

A white woman with a big doek on her head

And that one, it hasn’t started and already so drunk.

When there is a revolution let it start

As people turn in their spots

And see a sea of faces, a sea, and it’s there

Where black seas are foreign and white faces,

Like small sails, dot the ocean.

Let the revolution start in our bodies

As we jump up to dance

And pata pata ourselves, showing where we

Want to be touched

Even though it is our hearts, our hearts on the inside

That are being touched, squeezed, shaken, awoken

When the revolution starts let it start

With everyone who is there

Whose intention is shared

And where everybody is singing that same song

When the revolution starts

Let it be in the spontaneous singing

And the staying and holding

And dancing and loving

And owning, yes owning

That place.

Goodbye to Hei Hei and other musings

There are some people that know the name and make of every kind of car. My 10 and 12 year old nephews are specialists, and can quote what the interiors of the Ferrari blah blah blah are made of. Some people sit in the middle, like me, and  know the make and even model of their own car, and completely over identify with anyone else who drives the same, and then there are those that lose their cars in the parking lot and only know what colour their own car is. Sometimes, they won’t even know the make.

My friend Susan drove up behind me as I arrived at Deer Park, and I got excited because we were driving the same make and model. I pointed and waved. She thought I was just saying hi. I was like, look. She was, what?

IMG_4896Anyway, the reason I was meeting her was so I could say goodbye to Hei Hei, Susan’s 17 year old dog, who is literally on her last legs. I was how Susan came to have Hei Hei (a very long and amazing story involving seven Taiwanese rescues).

We sat under the trees, and Hei Hei sniffed and swam and waddled, and my two young dogs of the new generation gambolled and jumped and swam and rolled. And it was beautiful and the time is right and she leaves this planet after an amazing journey too huge to write down here.

Thank you Susan for giving me this afternoon, this marker, this passage, this moment. Thank you Hei Hei for being 100% amazing and special. I will never forget how you sang, and how Gally, your perfect white sister dog of my heart also sang.

Hello in 2016 and random parking and dental thoughts

Does anyone else write directions on their parking ticket to help them find their car when they park in confusing parking garages like The Christiaan Barnard Hospital, or the V & A Waterfront, or even the Gardens Centre (how many times have you gone down the little ramp instead of up?)?

I go and have my teeth cleaned by a special periodontal hygienist every five months because I am prone to gum disease. It is the only health thing I am absolutely diligent about. And I always used to get lost in the parking lot. It really is one of the worst. Half way up a particular level it changes from 5 to 6. Today I was parked exactly on the cusp. I wrote down 5/6 and 22 for the number of my parking. This was no help in locating the spot since just opposite me was 94. I don’t know why. Then I have to remember whether to turn left or right at my car, and whether I go slightly down the ramp, or slightly up the ramp to get to the lifts. I write notes like “5/6 22 left out car, left (remember opposite coming back) down ramp (up coming back). While I was writing the hygienist called to find out if I had forgotten my appointment. No, I said. See you in 10, just trying to get out of the parking lot.

Getting out of the parking lot is only one in a list of directional confusions, even if I have done this twenty times. So, I today parked on 5/6 and then I need to take the lift up, to 8, which is reception, and then I need to cross reception and go down two floors to 6 (yes, one would think that was the floor I parked on, but no, using logic here is futile), which is where the hygienist is. (To add confusions to the mix my gynaecologist is in the same complex, on the 14th floor, in the main building.)

The hygienist is amazing, even though it is a horrible, painful 40 minutes. Today, when she was done she handed me a little mirror to show me a ‘concern’ she had. She pointed out a back tooth to me. This was the only tooth that had a filling in it. I said, “This filling. It has been giving me problems.” She said, “what filling?” It had come out.  The one tooth that had a filling, the only filling in my mouth, was no longer filled. I told her I didn’t want to go back to the dentist who had done the job, (and had referred me to them). She said, no problem and referred me to another dentist, conveniently situated in the same complex. His rooms are only accessible from the mezzanine floor. So, that will be park on 5 or 6 or 5/6, go down to mezzanine, out the building and into the next one. Kafka couldn’t even make this shit up.

I am home now. Too scared to phone the new dentist. Because parking.

I just called. So, the receptionist told me to park, go down to the ground floor, look for the staircase behind the ATM to go up to the mezzanine floor. If you don’t hear from me after Thursday morning next week, come look for me. I’ll be stuck in a mezzanine time loop forever.

Fortune Cookie and first resolutions

There is nothing more fantastic than performing a show as soon as the year starts. It’s like those first days of total commitment to your New Year’s resolutions. I know it’s silly, but it colours how you think your year will turn out, and especially with improv, this means positive, creative team work and fun. I am also kicking my year off with a tiny bit of work (if you can call such fun work) before going on holiday. How lucky am I? So we had our first show last night (terrific and fabulous) and we have another tonight and tomorrow night (Alexander Bar, 8pm) if you wanna.

I have also hitchhiked onto an idea that Big Friendly suggested, which is to try 30 days of new habits instead of hard core resolutions, and my first one is to not drink alcohol for at least 30 days. I am on day five today. Honestly, nothing much has changed (I am suffering from a sinus thing that feels just like a hangover, to be honest) except for how easy it is not to drink. That’s it. I really don’t see the problem. So, I won’t drink for 30 days and then I’ll see how I like it. I know for sure I’ll have a little extra cash in my pocket, and I’ll probably be able to lose a few extra inches. Those are the benefits. Let’s see how I go.

Five days in, and aside from Penny Sparrow and the other hideous racists, I am having a good one so far.


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