It's the great damp squid
THE 2010/2011 telephone directory has just arrived. It appears to ignore Durban's new street names, the way the post office does in making deliveries. I'm told the Deeds Office in Maritzburg doesn't recognise the new names either.
Whatever the purpose of the renaming process, it seems therefore to have been what we seaside people call a damp squid. One government department and two parastatals – all of which deal essentially with street addresses – just don't go along with it.
I'm sure most of us ignore the whole silly thing, the way the post office and Telkom do. We of the St Petersburg Forum – St Petersburg, Leningrad, St Petersburg again – know that tomfoolery will not endure.
But it can be irksome if you're in an unfamiliar part of town and looking for a street address. I looked up the address of a business in the new telephone directory. It gave Ordnance Road. But to find Ordnance Road is not as simple as it sounds when its name has been changed to Bram Fischer Street.
I suppose Ordnance Road was so named because there was an ammunition depot or an armoury or something of the sort in the vicinity in the old days. It's not something that kept me awake at night.
But I do know for certain, of course, who Bram Fischer was. He was a man who had undeniable guts and commitment to his cause, but whose original Afrikaner nationalism morphed weirdly into an infatuation with Stalin, the mass-murderer who outdid even Hitler. Fischer never did repudiate Stalinism.
Stalin presided over a command economy that specialised in doing things on a grand scale but not always with great forethought. A factory would turn out millions of boots – but all of them left-footed.
Perhaps the new street names are appropriate after all. Dysfunctionality might in fact be some kind of greater good of which we - the bourgeoisie who are afflicted with false consciousness - are not aware.
Siesta fiesta
SPAIN has held its first siesta championship, the title going to a 62-year-old Ecuadorian who scored bonus points for his thunderous snore. About 360 snoozers took part in the competition – with substantial prize money – which was held in a Madrid shopping centre.
Security guard Pedro Soria Lopez – originally from Quito, Ecuador - managed to fall asleep for 17 minutes, netting him the title of siesta champion. His impressive 70-decibel snores pushed him ahead of another competitor who actually slept a minute longer.
Senor Lopez, we trust, does not work the afternoon a shift as a guard.
Local contender
HOWEVER, I have a worthy contender for the siesta title when Senor Lopez defends it next year. A Durban personality who makes regular contributions to this column emits snores that make 70 decibels sound like a silent movie.
When he spent the night in my house once, it seemed somebody had started a Lancaster bomber in the spare room.
Step forward Tom Dennen, Irish-American raconteur, gourmet cook and bon vivant.
Mozambique
THOSE of us who have worked in Mozambique are familiar with the siesta. The place closes down after a leisurely lunch and starts coming to life again only in mid-evening – and that's not to clinch deals and that sort of thing, it's to go out on the razzle.
Newcomers with busy diaries find it frustrating but you adjust.
It might seem terribly wasteful and inefficient – but at least a lot of bad decisions don't get made.
The Spanish siesta competition was apparently an attempt to bolster a tradition that is under pressure as Germanic norms of working hours and effort spread insidiously through the European Union. I worry for Spain and Portugal.
Tailpiece
YOU'RE on a horse, galloping at a constant speed. On your right side is a sharp drop and on your left is an elephant travelling the same speed as you. Directly in front of you is a galloping zebra and your horse is unable to overtake it. Behind you is a lion running at the same speed as you and the zebra. What do you do to get out of this dangerous situation?
Get off the merry-go-round – you're drunk!
Last word
Skill without imagination is craftsmanship and gives us many useful objects such as wickerwork picnic baskets. Imagination without skill gives us modern art.
GRAHAM LINSCOTT
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