Political conversion achieved in mid-air
WE HAD municipal elections not too long ago. Pretty soon – a couple of years actually, though the way some of the politicos carry on it could be a couple of weeks – we have provincial and national elections.
In America they've just had a presidential and congressional elections. The Brits have just had themselves a referendum. Elections, elections everywhere. Politics, politics. Political surveys. Political punditry. They're the flavour of the moment.
But here's an old-style political story. Really old-style. Many readers will not remember the time in South Africa when the burning political issue of the day was whether we should continue as a British dominion under the monarchy or become a republic under an elected president.
It was a burning issue. There were spectacular punch-ups at political meetings. Also in the bars afterwards. Thousands marched the streets of Durban and Maritzburg.
Last week we looked at a little book by Bev Wimbush, titled Midlands Mischief, in which he chronicles incidents in and around Maritzburg during the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s.
In a companion volume titled Midlands Pot-Pourri, he casts his net a bit wider to Zululand, the town of Melmoth in particular.
This story features an Afrikaner patriarch known as Uncle George who had a circle of "English" friends – but when it came to politics and republicanism, the Boer War was still on. Also a young farmer name Brian who had his own aeroplane.
Brian took Uncle George for his first-ever flip in an aeroplane, but they had been airborne only a matter of minutes when Uncle George decided this was not a good idea at all and demanded to be taken back to terra firma, da firma da better.
Brian said he'd do that with pleasure – but first Uncle George must say: "God save the King!"
"Not a damn!"
Brian executed some aerobatics, Uncle George hanging on grimly.
"Get me out of this bloody thing!"
"God save the King?"
Stony silence.
Then eventually: "God save the King, now get me down, you young bugger!"
The story got about like wildfire in Melmoth about how arch-republican Uncle George came to utter the words: "God save the King!" The Nats enjoyed it as much as the Rooineks. It's not clear whether George VI was ever informed.
Politics was so much simpler in those days.
Henhouse blues
There ain't nobody here but us chickens
There ain't nobody here at all
So calm yourself and stop that fuss
There ain't nobody here but us …
THE old number has come close to reality in Germantown, Maryland, in the US, where poultry farmer Shannon Myers has equipped her chickens with keyboards which they peck at, producing music - or so she claims - according to Huffington Post.
The chickens, known as The Flockstars, peck out simple rhythms and melodies on keyboards. People are arriving from miles around to photograph and record them for social media.
Shannon, who co-owns the coop where the birds jam out, came up with the concept as a "boredom buster" to keep the chickens occupied during the winter months. Some chickens are more musical than others, she says.
Team them up with an ostrich on double bass and a pelican on trombone and surely the world's Shannon's oyster. How about a crested crane on drums?
Tomorrow is a busy day
We got things to do, we got eggs to lay …
I'd still like to hear a recording before ordering the CD.
Tailpiece
THIS fellow has been marooned on a desert island for 30 years. Then suddenly one day there's a gorgeous girl on the beach in a wetsuit. He rushes up to her.
"A cigarette! I haven't had a cigarette in 30 years!"
She unzips a pocket and hands him a packet of Gauloises and a lighter.
"You wouldn't have a dram would you?"
She unzips another pocket and takes out a nip of 15-year-old single malt.
"Fantastic! Haven't had a dram in 30 years!"
She starts seriously unzipping the wetsuit starting at the cleavage.
"Wouldn't you like to play around?"
"Don't tell me you've got golf clubs as well!"
Last word
Few people think more than two or three times a year; I have made an international reputation for myself by thinking once or twice a week.
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