Hello, Wild Man speaking …
IT'S Indaba time again. Thousands of delegates from overseas and elsewhere in Africa are in Durban for the annual showcasing of what's on offer – game lodges, beach resorts, safaris and so forth. If we are to get anywhere near the tourism numbers Jacob Zuma speaks of, here is where it starts.
I've already alerted the police, the army, the Missing Persons Bureau and the National Sea Rescue Institute. Yes, the Wild Man of Zambia is in town again.
The Wild Man missed last year's Indaba. But now he's back with a vengeance. He is easily spotted. A tall, gauntly bearded DH Lawrence lookalike, he is usually to be found at the Zambia stand, talking animatedly into a small bottle of Dettol.
He carries the Dettol about with him (for tsetse fly bites, you understand) and often confuses it with the cellphone he carries in the other pocket. The cellphone rings and out comes the bottle of Dettol.
The police and the other emergency services have been alerted because, on average, the Wild Man goes missing in Durban four times a day. That's during daylight hours. When the sun sets, the AWOL rate goes up exponentially.
People who spot him striding the streets and talking urgently into a bottle of Dettol should on no account attempt to communicate. They should phone the police public order unit.
Aussie poem
The sun was hot already - it was only eight o'clock,
The cocky took off in his ute, to go and check his stock.
He drove around the paddocks checking wethers, ewes and lambs,
The float valves in the water troughs, the windmills on the dams.
He stopped and turned a windmill on to fill a water tank
And saw a ewe down in the dam, a few yards from the bank.
'Typical bloody sheep,' he thought, 'they've got no common sense,
'They won't go through a gateway but they'll jump a bloody fence.'
The ewe was stuck down in the mud, he knew without a doubt.
She'd stay there 'til she carked it if he didn't get her out.
But when he reached the water's edge, the startled ewe broke free
And in her haste to get away, began a swimming spree.
He reckoned once her fleece was wet, the weight would drag her down;
If he didn't rescue her, the stupid sod would drown.
Her style was unimpressive, her survival chances slim
He saw no other option, he would have to take a swim.
He peeled his shirt and singlet off, his trousers, boots and socks
And as he couldn't stand wet clothes, he also shed his jocks.
He jumped into the water and away that cocky swam;
He caught up with her somewhere near the middle of the dam.
The ewe was quite evasive, she kept giving him the slip.
He tried to grab her sodden fleece but couldn't get a grip.
At last he got her to the bank and stopped to catch his breath;
She showed him little gratitude for saving her from death.
She took off like a Bondi tram around the other side,
He swore next time he caught that ewe he'd hang her bloody hide.
Then round and round the dam they ran, although he felt quite puffed
He still thought he could run her down, she must be pretty roughed.
The local stock rep came along, to pay a call that day.
He knew this bloke was on his own, his wife had gone away.
He didn't really think he'd get fresh scones for morning tea
But nor was he prepared for what he was about to see.
He rubbed his eyes in disbelief at what came into view,
For running down the catchment came this frantic-looking ewe.
And on her heels in hot pursuit and wearing not a stitch,
The farmer yelling wildly 'Come back here, you lousy bitch!'
The stock rep didn't hang around, he took off in his car;
The cocky's reputation has been damaged near and fa.r
So bear in mind the Work Safe rule when next you check your flocks:
Spot the hazard, assess the risk, and always wear your jocks!
Tailpiece
HOW do you know when you're at an Australian stag party?
A sheep jumps out of the cake.
Last word
There's a difference between a philosophy and a bumper sticker.
GRAHAM LINSCOTT
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