About music.....Again

It really is true of me. Music has always been my first love. Perhaps, my first friend, my first comforter, my first seducer and my first and lifelong lover.

I watched The Shawshank Redemption this last weekend. (for the gazzillionth time). There is a scene in the movie where Andy Dufresne (played by Tim Robbins) hijacks the prison warders office and plays a piece of music over the prison intercom system. Perhaps the first music some of the occupants have heard in four decades. The scene is touching and the music is truly arrestingly beautiful. I did shed a tear or two.

To borrow a quote from the movie. : Morgan Freeman narrating as the character Red, "I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don't want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I'd like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can't be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free."

For anyone who has the inclination the piece of music played is taken from Mozart's, Marriage of Figaro. It is an Aria titled Duettino - Sull.

To follow shortly, My review of the Eagles new album "A Long Road out of Eden"

It is tough working...............

..........across the road from the stopping point for the Boks victory parade.

I am very proudly patriotically South African.

The Thumb says it.

I hope the sport administrators are paying attention.

This one is for you Katt.


He is the man


Captain, My Captain

One would think I am the jaded cynic.......

.........but I guess not.



I have been toying with a few posts, and this one has jumped the queue. No, I am not walking down aisles or tying in knots. It would take years of therapy for that to happen.

This post is purely an acknowledgement to a friend, a lover, and someone exceptional. I love you now. I always will.

There are two kinds of readers on my blog.

Those I have slept with and those I want ……………… um never mind, that has changed now.

Seriously, I believe I have some new readers on my blog so I want to take a moment to acknowledge them. I spent hours practicing typing this song so my typing should be pitch-perfect.

Sung in my best typing voice………with apologies to Oliver :-)

Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along.
Consider yourself well in
Consider yourself part to the furniture.
There isn't a lot to spare.
Who cares? Whatever we've going we share!

If it should chance to be
We should see
Some harder days
Empty larder days
Why grouse?
Always a-chance we'll meet
Somebody
To foot the bill
Then the drinks are on the house!
Consider yourself our mate.
We don't want to have no fuss,
For after some consideration, we can state...
Consider yourself
One of us!

All together on the Chorus now

Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along.
Consider yourself well in
Consider yourself part to the furniture.
There isn't a lot to spare.
Who cares? Whatever we've going we share!

And once more …………………with feeling

Consider yourself at home.
Consider yourself one of the family.
We've taken to you so strong.
It's clear we're going to get along.
Consider yourself well in
Consider yourself part to the furniture.
There isn't a lot to spare.
Who cares? Whatever we've going we share!

Aunty Dot, Uncle Doug, Mom Dad, welcome to my online world. Aunty Dot, know that you have been much in my thoughts. Let it be said again, in all sincerity welcome. It is nice to have you on board.

Gavin, Gloria, it is good to be in touch and welcome. I hope we can get together in real time and not just in Cyberspace

Tjaart, welkom. Die blog kort so ‘n bietjie Afrikaanse cultuur. (My spell checker just had a cadenza on that last sentence)

Sandy, again I say welcome. For you and others out there HNT outtakes are available on request ;-)

HNT, for those who want to know stands for Half Nekkid (sic) Thursdays. It was a web project, started with a basic guideline that you were to post a picture of yourself or someone you know. The picture does not have to include any nudity, and not all of mine do. It started as a bit of a lark, but grew into a popular web phenomenon. Rather eye opening was how many people it helped deal with and assortment of body/image issues. (I include myself there). For anyone who wants to know, the pictures featured on this blog are indeed of me.

To rest of the gang: Butterfly, Jane, Katt, Boet, M and a Pixie and a Troll or two. You are always welcome and thank you for just being there. For the record the Nome De Plumes are not just there to protect the innocent :-) . It’s a virtual world and people can be whomever they want to be. Captain-Equestria, did seem like a more likely superhero to me than Captain-Underpants.

Knowing my readership could now potentially include an older and respected generation, (mom and dad included) left me thinking would I censor what I post going forward. I could not do that. To do that would take away my integrity and leave me wretched.

Content here maybe be raw, risqué or contentious. It is what it is though, I will not change it. Any and all comments are welcome. If I will not censor myself, I will not censor you. This includes the older and respected generation. Anonymous commentary is also welcome.

So in wrapping this up, since I am actually been paid to work, not pander to an audience ;-) I am going to propose a virtual toast to one and all. Giving credit where it is due, I learnt this toast from my Boet. It should appeal to those of us who suffer from Gaelic Enchantment Syndrome.

So if you would please charge your glasses, cups of tea, cups of coffee, hip flask, and the energade bottle in the corner over there.

“Here’s to us
There’s min like us.
And the others are all dead.
SLANJOVA!”

*Insert your clinking sounds here.* I have no idea what “SLANJOVA!” means. It does sound grand to say it though, and the more you drink the grander it sounds.

You all take care of you.

Bits and bobs

First off , for my faithful readership of three , I just wanna shout out about a new read of mine.The Patriot. I would encourage you to go take a look and perhaps even comment. It is a brand new blog and will form part of a research project. I humbly ask that you spread the word please. :)

It seems I am way short of blog fodder these days. I wanted to create a post that was filled with astute wisdom, stunning wit and inspiring reading. However you will have to settle for the mindless ramblings of a mad man.

On Love, I thought after the last two years of my life I may be the ultimate love cynic. Turns out I still believe in love. Maybe not quite as I did before, but it can still leave one breathless and enchanted.

On Life, The salt mine has been keeping me exceedingly busy. I am not complaning though. I do love my job. What more can one ask for.

I cannot believe my eldest turned 14 yesterday. Happy birthday Kevin. I love you my boy. (even if you dont like having you picture taken)
You are a far cry from the four year old tyrant who murdered the garden because the plants were evil;-). I am proud of you.

In a follow on to my last post about riding a new young stallion for the first time, Ruark is an amazing horse to ride. One day I hope he stops trying to kill me :) I have learnt just how a horse can in fact buck and rear. He keeps me in a transitional relationship with my saddle. In laymans terms it means he has me trolling for paramedics. More simply put he has made me bite the dirt, following an airborne equitation display. Basically I fell off at the gallop. It hurt.

In other news, I have taken up playing the piano again, as well as the guitar. I predict my relationship with my neighbours may sour as a result. (except for the old dearie on the first floor, being hard of hearing and all). I like her , she thinks I am HOT. Of course she is around 86 in the shade and her sight is probably failing ;).

Best I get some work done.

You all take care now.

A handsome Beast

I wont say a lot here. He is a handsome beast of proud bearing. Meet Ruark the stallion. Saturday marks my first ride on him . I can't wait :).

Here he is kissing the girls. In this case the delectable Evil. Boys will be boys.

PS. If he looks a little wooly , its because he has his winter coat on.

Not living the unlived life.

It has been a week of contemplation for me. A lot of rambling thoughts. Questions with answers that pose more questions.

Somewhere in my mental meanderings I have come to some conclusions. Hopefully I can express them at least a little coherently here.

On the premise that we are born to die, I can only think of two biblical characters off hand who beat those odds. Assuming that perhaps the bible is perhaps a work of fiction or else completely misunderstood, it does not bode well. I am going to die like everybody else.

I have never been afraid of death until now, not death itself but rather the life I will live until I die. A life lived in fear, a life that becomes banal, uninteresting even to myself. For a few months I know I lost the plot completely and drew into myself. No More.

I will not live an unlived life.
I will not live in fear
of falling or catching fire.
I choose to inhabit my days,
to allow my living to open me,
to make me less afraid,
more accessible;
to loosen my heart
until it becomes a wing,
a torch, a promise.
I choose to risk my significance,
to love
so that which came to me as seed
goes to the next as blossom,
and that which came to me as blossom,
goes on as fruit.

Dawna Markova

To not live an unlived live I realise is to require an absolute freedom, not bound by the shackles of my past, nor the shackles of a grafted on morality.

I would rather live a life guided by that which sits deep within me. An honest life that is true to me and true to those around me.

Accepting a freedom like that is both excitng and terrifying. How much do the points of reference on a moral compass shift, when reliant on purely ones sense of self and who one is?

I may add to this post still. Blogger will not let me save it in draft.

A bit of fun................

Hey bloggy folk. I have a few posts I am toying with but am not ready to post, so in the mean time I figure I will give you something to look at.

Warning humour may get suspect in this blog. My mind warps a little when I am tired.

It's a fun meme. I am tempted to say if you are reading this consider yourself tagged :-)

Go to Wikipedia, and type in the month and day of your birth (no year). Then list 3 events, 2 birthdays and 1 death - I have added some commentry to my results since they seemed pertinent.

The Events
845 - Paris is sacked by Viking raiders, probably under Ragnar Lodbrok, who collects a huge ransom in exchange for leaving.
Whats pertinent here is actually the man who paid the ransom. "Charles the Bald". Looking at my hairline you will understand my affinity for the man.
1979 - British Prime Minister James Callaghan, is defeated by one vote in a Motion of No Confidence. This results in Parliament being dissolved in order to make way for a forthcoming General Election.
This one vote defeat paves the way for the Iron Lady Margaret Thatcher to come to power. Pertinent because in my distant youth I did Maggie Thatcher impersonations for my Grandmother's amusement. Now there is a scary thought ........LOL.

1994 - In South Africa, Zulus and African National Congress supporters battle in central Johannesburg, resulting in 18 deaths.
This particular event has a big impact on me. I was an eyewitness to this event. Seeing a man die being hacked to death with a panga (Farming implement with a large blade) less than ten metres from me has left some scars. The gun fire, the violence, and the terror of the people fleeing for their lives is etched deep within my mind. I was standing on Rissik Street locked out of my place of work, just a short run from Shell House where the massacre started.

Needless to say I did not celebrate my birthday that year. Remarkably just less than two weeks later South Africa turned the corner in its political strife and had it's first truly democratic election. It has been my privlege to have lived through some of this country's most monumental moments. By a twist of fate I was employed by an international news agency at the time and got to experience a lot of the buzz at very close range.

The Births
1613 - Xiaozhuangwen Grand Empress Dowager, Empress in Manchu
This is not pertinent at all. I just think it must suck to have a name like that.

1849 - James Darmesteter, French author and antiquarian
This is pertinent because like me he was well known for his really large uhm uh nevermind.......... Actually that last bit I just made up. This is actually pertinent because I dig old sh!t too ;-)

The Death
1987 - Maria von Trapp, Austrian-born singer
If you are not bursting into some sort of song now, I am bitterly dissapointed. The Sound of Music (1965 Version with Julie Andrews ) is one of my favourite movies. I watched it many times with my grandmother between Maggie Thatcher impersonations. ;-)

In one of those weird and unexplained ways, I have met a man in real life who I speak to frequently now, who was in fact intimately familiar with the Von Trapp family on who the movie was based. One of the first girls he ever dated in life was Gretl Von Trapp. (The little girl in the movie played by Kym Karath.)

By his first hand account Maria Von Trapp was a complete tyrant that in no way resembled the sweet Maria in the movie. Talk about killing my illusion.

In Parting I will offer a deep piece of dialogue from the movie.

Max: Friedrich, Gretl, why don't you sing?

Gretl: I can't, I've got a sore finger.

Maria: Gretl, what happened to your finger?

Gretl: It got caught.

Maria: Caught in what?

Gretl: Friedrich's teeth.

You all take care now peeps.

Oh My Consus - Where did you all come from?

Welcome. Just for the record Consus is according to some mythology the God of Horses. Horses don't buy into blasphemy. When they say, "Oh My Consus" it is really an acknowledgement of an awesome four legged creature. If in doubt ask a horse :-)

Hopefully there are more celebrants than mourners here. I will warn you this post may be dis-jointed at best, and completely non-sensical at worst.

Furzl was good for for the time in which he lived. Furzl was too much part of a Duo that is no more. He will always be a part of me so I wont remove every reference to him.

I opted to be Just Brian since its the one person I can always be sure of being. Hmmmmm, I think I am a potential candidate for treatment for Multiple Personality Disorder. lol.

Credit for Captain-Equestria goes to M. Thank You. Captain Equestria plays right up to the little boy inside me who wants to race around having adventures on a horse. Who knew I would grow up to want to play a cowboy? It's not a mid-life crisis, I promise.

I found time spent with horses to be very therapeutic. Even the ones that dump me on the ground, offer their own comfort. I have kept a journal documenting my time spent on horseback. Perhaps I will place some of that journal here sometime. I have not done so to now because it is kind of personal and deals with some of the demons inside.

Horses offer great therapy. They are very forgiving, make few demands and some will tell you when you full of sh!t. I dont think I have been the best company always for the last several months, but my battery of therapists don't seem to care. Star, Casper, Midnight, Klein Tequila, Buck and my boy Britannica (My Adventure Horse - The Horse I gallop in my dreams). Thanks guys and gal (Midnight is the gal in the crowd).

Here's to new and good things

Lost my coat of many colours and feeling naked

The mantle of a fairytale marriage

I wore a coat of many colours

The colour of a husband,

The father

The provider

The good son in law

The spiritual head

Tatters remain now,

Piece for piece, it had been stripped away.

Neither husband nor son in law

The provision not enough

Spiritually perhaps I will find a different god from the one I knew

I feel naked and tired.

one piece of coloured cloth remains

that of the father

perhaps faded in my childrens eyes

Stitching a new coat together from what remains

adding new colours I hope to find some vibrancy and identity

I know I cannot do it alone

The threads provided by a support system I stand in amazement of

From the East Rand to the Eastern Cape

From the West Rand to the posse who have never read this blog who span across to the Western United states

From the Northern Suburbs to the Netherlands.

To my Boet and M.

To my precious and fragile little ones.

I thank you all. It is good to know I have never walked alone.

Out of Africa

Elephants walking

Along the trails

Are holding hands

By holding tails. - Lenore M. Link

What an awesome way to wile away a Sunday Afternoon. My brother and his wonderful wife treated the little ones and I to a visit to an Elephant Sanctuary in the North West Province.

This pic of them was not taken on the trip but I just love it.

Touching and amazing only begins to describe how awesome these great big gentle giants are.

Having just spent a morning with kids roughing each other up (and getting annoyed by it), it was fun to watch how young elephants behave the same way, Momma Elephant too looked annoyed after a while.

Most amazing for me was to see the Children and how they reacted to the elephants.

Even my little chicken who is afraid of all creatures living fed touched and interacted with these gorgeous creatures, and babbled not stop about it for the hours drive home. She took a liking to a little gentleman named Temba in particular.

Of course feeding the dude was just a grand thing to do.

Liam absolutely loved the experience and even took Pumba for a stroll. It is truly amazing to watch a little man lead a 4 ton giant around. All it took was a cupped hand which the elephant holds on to.

Even my City Slicker Kevin got into the action, and told me what a great time he had. Driving anywhere out of town often has Kevin acting as if the very world will end so I was amazed to say the least. No I wont post his picture here. My boy would rather sacrfice limbs than have his picture taken.

For those who are inclined to tactile experiences touching the elephants was something amazing. The elephant truly is a myriad of textures, bumpy and rough on top, bumpy and soft on its belly, The skin behind its ears velvet like. The hair on its tail like very thick fishing line. Its tongue slick and wet and smoother than glass. Most amazing for me had to be the underside of its feet. Not the rough calloused pad you may imagine, but rather a smooth soft very finely textured sponge.

Intriguing to me are the stories of an elephants legendary memory.

One such tale related on this trip is of an elephant orphaned as a youngster. It was raised by hand and then re - released into the wild. 17 years after this fact it was injured in a fight with a Hippopotomus. The elephant suffered a large open wound on it's leg that required treatment. Elephants because of their size cannot be safely sedated and this one was in pain making it unapproachable to boot. Her original keeper was tracked down and after 17 years of running wild, her keeper approached her with a simple, "Hello, my girl". The elephant allowed the wound to be cleaned and treated by her handler with no resistance whatsoever. She still knew and trusted that person.

Every so often I am struck by being in the presence of some ancient wisdom far greater than I could hope to understand. It’s a feeling I very much associate with being African. If I am totally honest about it, something about these magnificent creatures touched me so intently I stood to the side hoping no one would notice my tears.