Bullies that steal my money!

For nearly 30 years now, or should I say for as long as I can remember, not one day went by without Israel being in the news, either they are attacking or they are being attacked and it got to the point were I just don't bloody care anymore!
We are bombarded by news of the oppression that happens in the Gaza strip, we are told about all the countless bombings and attacks, we are even told that the well being of the whole world rests on peace between Israel (a piece of land as big as the Kruger!) and whoever they want to attack next.
It seems to me that the bloody Israelies are like a bully on the playground! But not the kind that can kick the crap out of you on its own, no sir! rather the short snotty nosed little shit that pulls your tie and jabs his finger in your eye, and when you prepare to kick him in the nuts, he points over his shoulder at his big brother and his gorilla like friends.
To take it a step further, I hate it how this little bully influences my life!
Unrest in the middle east = rise in the price of oil = higher petrol prices = higher food prices = less money in my pocket!

A couple of years ago, after the fall of Russia, some farmers got mad at each other and started throwing potatoes, immediately "Big Brother" stepped in,without diplomacy I might add, and bombed the living daylights out of them, end result, no more fighting! Now I know that "Big Brother" wont do that to the little brat, but we have engineers and the know-how, why don't we just a build a bloody wall around that whole  region, throw in some weapons and see who walks out after 30 years or so?
At least it would make for interesting TV, much better than the Kardashians,  we could place long term bets on the results!
Now I know that there is a lot of you that will think this man is crazy, but its not me its the bloody Israelis, they defend a piece of land that they got after a world war, and nobody knows why?, they protect a city that has more Muslim and Christian relics in it than Jewish!
For a country of about 7.6mil people they sure have nerve, we have more people than that on Boxing Day  on Durban beach. If you look at the facts the true aggressor here is the Bully, since we started counting in 1987, 7978 Palestinians died, of which 1620 where children under 16, while on the other hand 1503 Israeli 's died, 142 of those being children!

I don't know who is right or wrong, all I know is that I would be extremely pissed off if someone takes may land from me and calls it "Defensive Action" and the rest of the fools just follow.
I am sick of people taking sides in this matter purely on the basis of naivety! The action required in that region should be based on an economic platform, we (the rest of the world) should sit these kids down and spank their buts, no more talking, otherwise they will still be in the news in 30 years, fighting, no I mean the type of spanking you got as a kid when you lied to your parents, or they caught you smoking! Trade embargoes, sanctions, UN resolutions! Let the Israelis eat their own dates!
What happened (or is happening) in Israel is the same as what happened in South Africa, a minority tried to take a country from the indigenous people, they divided the country into small pockets (homelands) and  oppressed the people, the people got sick and tired of this and revolted and the rest of the world helped. What do think would have happened if we build walls around the Ciskei, Transkei etc? So why don't we "help" with the situation in Israel!, why don't we support the oppressed?

According to some, we have a moth till the end of the earth, if they have their calculation right this time, so do you really what to spend the last month listening to the news and hearing about children dying and bombs exploding?
Nope, I'm done. The rest of the world can make fun, they can support who they want on this matter, all I want is for the petrol price to drop,  tsunamis to stay away from the South Coast and no more news!

Till next time.

"Slack-packing" the Mighty Fish River Canyon!

Why oh why!!

Not that, please, not that, how is that possible that one of the last frontiers have been conquered by the lazy, wealthy, aristocratic, pretentious idiots!

Yes that was my reaction to the article in the Country Life Magazine on "slack-packing" the Mighty Fish River Canyon!

An America at the Sulphur Springs  Maccies!

As you know, I was tamed by the mighty Fish River, Yes I was scared stiff looking down from the starting point, yes I had blisters, yes I stared the Grim Reaper in the face, yes I told myself on several occasions never again, however I also formed bonds that will never be broken, I discovered my inner being again, I have done that and came back a better person!
Now all of that has been spoiled as the "Hoity-Toity-Arty-Farty" needs to be accommodated!
They don't need to carry their packs, no-no, they sleep in pre-erected tents or cabins, their food are made for them (nothing less than 3 courses), their buts are wiped, but worst off all is that they can pass a lie-detector test when asked if they walked the Fish River!
This borders on blasphemy, its like taking a chopper up Kilimanjaro, or the cable car up Table Mountain, or taking the train up the Inca Trail, yes you were there, but that's it, no experience, no thoughts, nothing!

I am fully aware that some "otherwise abled" (to be politically correct), have the need to experience the outdoors, and I'm all for that, but being pampered just because of your financial stability or your lazyness or the fact that your currency lets you stay in Africa for a year on a $ / £100 (and that is if you buy a house  in Clifton) irritates me!, it will only be a matter of time, and you will find a Mc Donald's at Sulphur Springs, or a cable car down to the bottom!

Next year I'm planning another trip to the canyon, this time I'll be fitter and better prepared, I will have even more time to adore the splendour of this magnificent place, but I dont know how I will react if I come to the causeway and I see people having a glass of bubbly while their feet are being massaged by barely clad girls and toasting "Jolly good show old chap" or "give us another Shiela" or (with a drawl) "its bigger in the States!"

I can already hear the noise of a chopper as it flies over the canyon at all times off day or night just to deliver some crackers with extra cheese to an overweight American who needs his cheese fix! I can see the plastic cell phone towers trees lining the rim of the canyon to ensure that they are able to check their stock prices in real time and "sell" or "buy" echoing through the silence of the canyon, I can see the tread pattern of Hi-Tech, Solomon and Wolverine being replaced by that of Gucci, Prada or Jimmy Choo.
To add to that it wont be long till the Health and Safety Officers take over, that will spell the end of life as we know it! The construction of a 85km long pathway build to the requirements of some ISO specification will take priority, with the gradient set to a certain degree as not to put to much strain on the ankles or cause blisters, add to that the signage in 4 languages and illumination and we are screwed!,.... because enter the bloody mountain bikers!
Immediately they will demand a MTB trail as it will be unconstitutional to only allow hikers, then the quad bikers and bikers because it will be unfair to only allow hikers and MTB's and not them and as always, the 4X4 clubs will lay the claim that they also need a place!  That brings the recovery and medical service at every 20km to ensure a hasty service, and this all due to human nature and that's a fact!

When my family started camping we could fit all our camping needs in the back of our Tucson, soon that wasn't enough and we needed a trailer, soon we out-grew the trailer and bought a 4x4 off-road trailer, now we are contemplating a rooftop tent and all other gadgets needed to make the camping experience more civilized, a DSTV Drifta for the sport, a fridge for some cold ones, a large queen size stretcher etc! the same as will be happening to our beloved canyon.

So what do we do?... do we go deeper into the unknown, do we try to find an even more remote place to explore and do we spend more money on gadgets just to get some peace and quiet?
I think not, if you need a place to find your inner self, or if the environment dictates your happiness you will always be searching for the perfect place, the words "this would have been perfect if" would be added to all your thoughts and you will always be restless.

Give the "Hoity-Toity-Arty-Farty" their space, apply your mind to your environment. Yesterday I was truely happy!, the kids played around the pool, the family gathered and we had a wonderful time chatting away while the braai was going, no view of the sea, or mountains or whatever else, just  in the company of family.

I leave with the words of Lao Tzu- In dwelling, live close to the ground. In thinking, keep to the simple. In conflict, be fair and generous. In governing, don't try to control. In work, do what you enjoy. In family life, be completely present.

Well till next time.
 




 

Die padkaart deur my lewe

Hill Straat was die hooftraat

In ou hande toegevou

Met Ps 23 as ‘n maat was ek gerig na die Lig

Daar was lewe vir almal en ek

In ‘n oogwink was dit net ek

JB Muller straat, met liefde het ek gedy

Groot oop deure het my gelei

In die skadu van ‘n peperboom was daar gedroom

Lewies, Sushara, Kernollie en Nella and al die pelle

Nooit weer was dit net ek, dit was my plek

Sonder my maat wat sukkel praat moes ek die plek verlaat

Kaap weg was ‘n lewe vol sleg

Bier en ghries dampe was in die kampe

Soos bobbelhondjies in die busse, donker oggend, donker nag

Hier was die seer, op 22 Augustus was hy nie meer

Oop graf het vir my die tweede keer gelag

Hier moes ek weg, ek het klaar my hond gekry

Karen straat het ek gehaat, ek was daar met ‘n valse maat

Bus en trein gery om almal te vermy

In President straat gevoel daar is ‘n doel

Loop van deur tot deur met griffel kuns, geen klok wat lui

Die Bobbies het my klaar gekry

Rebecca Straat in blou gewaad, in Danville, Mayville en Wille Area aan vals beloftes vasgeklou

Mosselbaai sou ek in blou nooit aanskou

In die skadu van Weskoppies ontmoet ek baie poppies

Op ‘n blind date seel dit my fate en ek het geweet ek gaan jou trou my vrou

In Silwer Straat was jy my maat, daar het ons saam gebly

Nooit gelol, net gejol

In Billies op my knie gedaal, gelukkig het ek nie gevaal

Ek kort voor lank was dit ek en jy

Op die bank ons twee saam veraltyd onder een naam

Piet Grobelaar Straat was ons begin, ek en jy word ‘n gesin

Dankie Heer aan U goedheid geen keer, my kids en vrou sonder seer

Finkel en Koljander, my broer word weer vir my gebore

Watter goeie tye, sonder 2 pond 10, maar ons was gesien

Jooste straat is nou my huis, famielie en gesin inkluis

Hier waar ons swem en baljaar weet ek U is daar

Met my vrou en kroos aan my sy word ek deur U gelei

Ek en my hond is hier gesond

Die kind se dag kom nader Vader

Gee hulle ook die pad wat tot rusting lei

Gee hulle Ps 23 Here, al gaan hulle te kere

Want ek weet net U maak ons wil stil

I know its true because he said so..........(part 2)

I already introduced you to my Grandfather in a previous blog, like I said a man of character!
Another 'truth' form his youth came to me whist talking to Louis recently in London, its about the biggest fish he ever caught.
In his later life Oupa was a keen fisherman, not necessarily because he liked it, but rather because times were tough and he had to provide for his family.
I remember how he used to sit on the stoep and point at the then barren Santos Beach and relate stories of how he came back from there with four big bags full of fish.
However that is a story for another day. This one goes back to when he was a young man with 16 (yes as I mentioned before 16) siblings.

Food was scarce and the family needed to eat, the roof of the house was in a dilapidated state and the wet Western Cape winter was approaching fast.
Oupa and one of his brothers were playing marble (actually marbles but as they were very poor they only had one!) when his father came home from town with no food in sight!
The old man told the youngsters to go to the river and try to catch some fish. Without hesitating they set of for the river, with the hunger pains making them walking faster and faster until they stumbled over a piece of oddly shaped wood. They dug it out, and what do you know, an old muzzle loader rifle! they took it with them to the river as it was a nice toy to play with.
Using some old twine, cat-gut and a rusty safety pin they tried to fish for hours but to no avail, and out of boredom they decided to take a closer look at the muzzle loader, and found that it still had a old rusty percussion cap in place but could not see any bullet in the barrel. The strange thing was that they saw a piece of cotton cloth in the barrel which might mean that there is still some powder in the chamber! 'Could this thing still fire?' they wondered.
Just at that moment they saw the biggest Kudu ever, moving out of the bush to drink water at the river! Being on a sandy strip, there where no pebbles that they could use as bullets, then it struck Oupa that he still had the marble in his pocket.
He loaded it into the muzzle, and what do you know, it was a perfect fit! Thinking quickly, he ripped a piece off his shirt to use as packing and rammed it into the barrel with a stick. With sweat pearling on his forehead, he cocked the Voorlaaier, he took carefull aim at the Kudu, slowly he squeezed the trigger!
Then with a big bang the shot went off, the only thing you could see was smoke and Oupa sitting on his backside with his eyes as big as his mouth!

Bewildered he stood up and saw the strangest thing, on the other bank of the river, the huge Kudu was lying motionless, and floating in the river, a silver "submarine" (the biggest Kabeljou in the history of mankind) as dead as a door nail!
As he fired at the Kudu, this Jona fish jumped out of the water and he shot him through the eyes, and the bullet kept going to hit the Kudu in the head.
Looking behind him to see why he had such a soft landing, he saw that he fell on a mother rabbit with six young ones, all dead!

And his brother?, well seeing what happened, he ran to the house  to get everybody to come and help.
To get the Kudu to the house, all 17 children, as well as the old people, had to help, they had to quarter it and use the cart to get the meat to the house, the skin was so heavy, the house could not pull the cart and the had to use four oxen as well.
The fish was so big, they had to call the extended family to help, it took them two days to cut it into manageable pieces, the fish was so big, they used the scales as roofing shingles and the bones as fencing poles.
The Kudu was so big, they made leather throes for 2 double beds and used the offcuts to make a pair of shoes for each of the children.

Only shows you, when you need it, you get it!

Well till next time.

Being a all-rounder is bloody hard

Surviving a week of building circuit boards, African Musical instruments and refreshing the memory on Grade 4 and 7 maths, you sometimes ask yourself, "what is school all about these days?", how do they expect the kids to perform when they do this kind of work at such a young age!

In Grade 7 (for the people who went to proper school, Std 5), we still played touches, marbles or Kings, we ran around school and had a blast. There was no such a thing as letters of the alphabet in maths, x was a letter that you knew about and seldom used, there was no solving of its problems and tangents to the best of my knowledge was a swear word, until at least std 6!
Sport was something you did when school came out and holidays equated to fun, there was no such a thing as "pre-season preparation" or "off season conditioning" we had cricket in the summer, rugby in the winter and somewhere in between there was athletics.
I had no need to know the history of Tap-Dancing, Jan van Riebeeck was still a hero and not a criminal, and sexual education was knowledge shared in a secret place when somebody heard or saw something and was then treated like "the man" because he knew more than the others! In many a man of my age the Scope played a important part of growing up, I still remember when I saw the first girl topless I thought she was disabled because there was no stars!

But alas, times have changed, today parents drop their kids at the mall with a credit card or some cash to go and watch a "movie", and then they are very surprised if their 12 year old child become sexually active or gets hooked on drugs!
Parents feel that its the responsibility of the school to teach their children social skills, they feel that they work hard  and "deserves a break", as a parent myself, believe me it also crossed my mind, but then I started to observe my kids carefully, and to my shock (no actually I felt very good about it). I saw that kids "absorbs" their homes!

Kids sees the parents always having a drink when socializing, and then make the connection that
socializing =  alcohol consumption,
they see how sometimes we "lie" to our friends and then make the connections,
friendship = backstabbing,
they see how parents bring stationary from work and then make the connection,
work = freebees,
These are just some examples, I'm sure you can add to this, but my point is they learn all their bevahiour from us, the parents!

This brings me to my promise.
When my eldest daughter was born, I made a promise to her and myself, that she will never see me in a state where I was not in control or could not handle a situation.
Now that had a bigger influence on my life than I thought at the time! So for the past 13 years I don't have more than 3 drinks, I work hard to provide for the family, I am involved in the school activities and sport, and try to be a good husband (but sometimes the TV just makes it so damb difficult) and I try to listen.

In our house we don't tell our children the story of Icarus, we believe they must try to reach the sun, we try to guide and influence through being examples instead of telling them what to do.
When a problem arises we ask them how they think they should deal with it, and then "edit" the response.
Its hard work because we see the flaws in our personalities in the way our kids behave, and that is a shocking reality!
So next time your kids does something that shocks you, try not to blame the school, friends or society, first do some introspection you'll be amazed at what you will find!


Well till next time.    

Thank You for all the Blessings!

Wow, I am very emotional today! Today I looked around me and saw hurt, love, pain, believe and hope!

I want to share with you the story of Kayla Bezuidenhout. This wonderful 11 year old faces a brutal world everyday of her life and still she smiles!

Kayla has been diagnosed with Hypothyroidism, this means that this beautiful girl is trapped in a body that keeps putting on weight no matter what she does. Seeing the hurt, the longing to be like the others really made me feel like I can scream at the top of my voice "Why a kid Lord! Why do you do such cruel things! Such a beautiful girl has to carry such a burden in life!"

But as with all things there is hope, Kayla can undergo surgery to make her life whole again, but the medical aid does not want to pay for the procedure, this means that the parents have to get a R 100 000.00 before the surgery scheduled in December.

If you feel that you can help, or know of someone who can help please contact

Hanlie on 0796607767.

Here is a letter written by her mother.

In die Oë van my kind

As ek in die oë van my kind kyk, sien ek so baie dinge.  Ek onthou die gelukkige en onskuldige baba en peuter wat so ‘carefree’ was, totdat die lewe sy streep op haar kom trek het.

Ek sien die bang kleuter wat die eerste keer moes stillê sodat die dokters ‘n naald in haar klein armpie kan steek vir NOG toetse.

Ek sien die trane in haar oë as ons probeer verduidelik wat hierdie groot masjiene is wat so raas wanneer sy nog ‘n MRI or Catscan moet kry.

Ek sien haar onsekerheid as sy op vakansie ook in die see wil swem, maar die ‘tannie-costume’ sonder die Barbie prentjie lyk nie so mooi soos die ander maatjies sin nie, maar sy kan net die een dra want dis al wat pas.

Ek sien die verskriklike hartsverskeurende hartseer wanneer sy my vertel dat iemand haar vandag al weer vet of lelik genoem het.

Ek sien die vrae wanneer sy vandag weer nie in die Wiskunde klas se bank kon inpas nie en Juffrou weer nie hoor totdat almal gesien het en weer na haar gestaar het nie.

Ek sien die donker in haar oë wanneer die vreeslike Depressie weer so swaar op haar skouertjies kom druk vandag dat niks vir haar lekker voel nie.

Ek sien die bloedrooi gesiggie wanneer sy saam ‘n maatjie gehardloop het en die hartjie bons uit haar borskas uit, en die sweet hardloop straaltjies teen haar pragtige gesiggie af.

Ek sien die vrae op haar gesiggie as sy vra hoekom Jesus haar gekies het om hierdie siekte voor te gee.

Ek sien die opstanding en frustreerdheid wanneer sy weet ons sal weer klere moet gaan koop want laas seisoen sin is al weer te klein.  Wanneer ons spesiaal die tannie moet gaan sien wat haar skoolklere maak omdat die skoolwinkel sin net nooit wil pas nie.

Ek sien die moedeloosheid as sy haar kosblik oopmaak en dis al weer Provitas en Vrugte.  Die ander maatjies eet dan so lekker.

Ek sien die vrae op haar gesiggie as sy vir haarself in die spieël kyk as sy klaar gebad het en dit lyk dan meer soos ‘n tannie se lyf as ‘n klein dogtertjie sin.

Ek sien die moegheid in haar oë omdat dit vandag al weer nog ‘n dokters besoek by NOG ‘n dokter of hospitaal is…

Ek sien haar gebreekte siel elke keer as sy by die dokter op die skaal moet klim en dis al weer meer as laas.  Al het sy nie die popcorn by die fliek ge-eet of die roomys op die strand nie.

Ek sien nog steeds my pragtige liewe kind met ‘n hart van goud wat soveel empatie het met die mensdom al behandel soveel van hulle haar sleg.

Ek sien my pragtige 11 jarige dogtertjie wat so ‘n lus vir die lewe DIEP binne haar siel bère, maar haar liggaam hou dit gevangene.

Ek sien ‘n lewensveranderde operasie wat in Desember my kind se lewe onherroeplik gaan verander.

EK SIEN HOOP!

London Calling! Go Team GB!

Tower Bridge meets the Bulls 

Wow, what a week,....no, that’s no way to start the description of a life changing experience!

Should I rather say excellent, fantastic, awesome, no, I want to shout “WhooooHoooooo I was there!!”

The Olympics, what can I say, 204 countries competing in 36 different sporting events and my country brought back 6 medals, of which one was history in the making, South Africa winning its first ever Olympic medal in kayaking when Bridgette Hartley won a bronze in the womans 500m meter event.

A picture is worth a 10000000000 words!

The atmosphere was electric, London hosted a spectacular event, actually, what do you expect, they should be able to get it right on the third try (LoL). Everything worked and ran on time like a well made watch, the precision was evident everywhere, the transport, hotels, events, everything just worked, the IOC can reward every volunteer with a medal for making this a event to remember!

Seeing how everything was running on time I decided that a new watch had my name on it and proudly walked into Harrods, what a place! Full of bravado, straight to the watch counter (actually a whole store filled with the most beautiful time pieces I have ever laid my eyes on!), however, with the Rand being like a snot-nosed little kid on the playground trying to stand its man against guys like Bakkies Botha or Bismarck Du Plessis, I found out, to my dismay, that Harrods, although they sell everything under the sun, does not take kidneys as a deposit to buy a watch.

Hows that for brand placement.

So off we went, my personal trainer Greg and I to experience London, you’ll notice I didn’t call him my tour guide, no sir, he is much more than that! Greg knows London better than he knows Pretoria, around this corner, down that road, on the tube, off the tube and viola! 10 Downing Street, the ally where “His Cameron-ness” lives!, down the street, just around that corner, up this street, through the park, “don’t we use the tube!?” “no its easier to walk”, and there is Big Ben, West Minister Abbey and Boots. Up the stairs, across the bridge, down the stairs, just a few blocks, there is the London Eye. Phew!

Now as you might recall from my previous Blog, I see exercise as something you only do in an emergency, but Greg, thanx Bud, it was a pleasure running behind you through London, from the White Cliffs of Dover to Buckingham Palace on foot!

With all the exercise the tank had to be filled, and there I had the wonderful opportunity to sit at a table in one of the poshest restaurants in the world, Zuma in London, with a food and wine expert!

Sivi knows his business, and, his food and wine, what a culinary experience for a guy that eats steak and chips, and sees greens as an area on a golf course. I had to travel to London to have the best lamb chops in the world!

It’s difficult to put into words the feeling I have towards Sivi and Vanessa G, two visionary people that is willing to provide you with all the opportunities in the world, like parents, they guide and motivate you to achieve the greatest heights, and as parents do, they praise, but when necessary, also show you your errors, thanx guys for another HolGoun Family experience!

“If you don’t have confidence, you’ll always find a way not to win” – Carl Lewis

Well till next time.

I know its true, because he said so.....

I am definitely not a story teller because a story is just what it says, a story.
However I have to share with you some "history", as a young boy who regularly heard this piece of "history", there were no way to check the historical accuracy of the "facts", and when asked the narrator always rebuked with "Hoekom sal ek nou lieg!(Why would I lie!)".
So this piece if history of my family goes as follows;

My Grandfather grew up on a farm Melkhoutsfontein near Gouritzriver, and they were 17 brothers and sisters, yes those were the days of hard work, and as I can judge from the number of children, lots of fun (although Oupa would have never admitted to that!).

Oupa was a young boy when his mother was in the "ander tyd" (or as we call it today pregnant). Times were  tough and Doctors where few and far between, unlike today where you cannot swing a cat and hit at least 10 of them. In those days the doctors came by the house, visited the patient and told them what was wrong without the use of X-rays, blood tests, sonars, CT Scans, seance sessions or whatever they use today. Thus near the due date the doctor told the old people that the baby bridged and she should go to the hospital for the birth.
As I (Oupa) mentioned, times where tough, they had to pee in the bath for some warm water, so when the time came to go to hospital they hitched their 12 year old horse to a borrowed cart, only to find that they didn't have any leather straps (rieme) to steer the horse with, eventually one of the brothers remembered where he saw some old rieme, and came back with 4 pieces of dry old leather that looked like bone (hard, white and brittle!).
Oupa as one of the youngest was told to go with them as the older children had to keep working on the farm, as they didn't know how they were going to pay for the medical expenses.
So without fanfare they got onto the old rickety cart, but before his father ( Great Grandfather) got on, he whispered something into the horses ear, and you could see the tears forming in the eyes of the horse, how it changed form being a "soon-to-be-pot-of-glue" to a thoroughbred!
According to Oupa, his father was a great motivator, not only did he have a vocabulary that would make the toughest sailor blush, but he also had the demeanor that said " I WILL CASH THE CHEQUES I WRITE!".

As they turned onto the road the horse began to run, he ran with all he had, when became tired, the old man just shouted "Onthou!".
The horse ran so fast that he had to pull the reins with all his might to ensure that the horse doesn't run out of the harness! He pulled so hard that the blood started to drip from that old, white, brittle pieces of leather!
Now, Oupa, explained, we all know what happens to wet "rieme", they stretch, the more his father pulled to take up the slack in the blood-soaked reins, the harder the horse worked, and the faster it ran! When they went past the modern day location of MossGas, they had such a load of new leather on the cart that there was hardly any place for him to sit, they were making good time, and when they came into Mossel Bay, it looked like they were on their way to the market to sell the leather straps!
But then the bad luck struck!, one of the wheels came off just as they were entering "Park Side West" (a very steep downhill into Mossel Bay), the wheel sped past them, but fortunately all the leather straps on the cart balanced it so it went down on 3 wheels!
They eventually reached the hospital and the baby was born without any complications.

They had such a load of fresh leather straps on the cart, that upon selling it, it payed for the the birth, fixing the wheel, they also bought new clothes for everyone and enough food for a year! Four ox wagons had to take the groceries to the farm!

And the horse......
Well according to Oupa, when he got back to the farm and told his brothers and sisters how the horse ran, they told him that they don't own a horse! only a mule!
That mule still worked for another 25 years on the farm, everyday, from sunrise to sunset, and when it was his time to go, it is said that he even dug his own grave!

What Great Grandfather said to the mule on that day is forever lost to history, but whatever it was the mule must have believed it.
How is that for motivation.

Well till next time.

Pink Floyd asked the right questions.........

Being labelled by those who see me walking down the street as a "BOER" made me think about what it is that says that, and why do I care?
What they see is a bald guy, wearing glasses, usually wearing a modern T-shirt(which my daughter picked, something Hardy or another, about which I blew a gasket when I got to know the price, and it was on sale) a neat pear of sweats (or a jean) and shoes to match.
I don't carry anything in my pockets as I don't like unnecessary bulges, my cell phone does not have De La Rey as a ringtone and I communicate in a acceptable manner.
Yes I drive a Landie (4 lt V8, what a sound!) but so does most of Sandton! But still something in my demeanor makes people label me as a "BOER".

So I thought it might be the music I listen to, its possible due to some hearing loss by spending nearly 17 years on a shooting range, I turn the music on quite load in the car.
To put my music into perspective, I have to explain that I grew up in the 80's and had (and still have) 3 very important influences in my taste of music.
Living in "M-Bay" (Mossel Bay), and with my grand parents at that, we were always a bit behind the times, but fortunately for me the "music-fashion-language-ethical-gods" would arrive every December in their family Beatle to bestow on me what is hip and happening in the world of music and fashion.
I learnt that shoes must match your belt, you can't end a sentence with "is" and to like their music, Pink Floyd, Men Without Hats, Talking Heads, UB 40, Linton Kwezi Johnston, Sex Pistols etc. Not to mention AC/DC, Led Zeppelin, Rumstein, Andrea Bocelli.
Then the third influence came to me, the one angel met her husband to be, he loved Koos Kombuis, Johannes Kerkorrel and "een aand op die trein na Pretoriaaa", thus Afrikaans was added to the mix. Those were the days, songs meant something and the lyrics actually had something to say and touched your soal.
You'll notice that I didn't mention any of todays Afrikaans (although it irks me to call them that) singers. In South Africa today all you need is a 1500 bucks and then you have a CD, and if you career is struggling, throw in a gospel CD and you are back on track.
So it can't be my music because I don't do Juanita Du Plessis!

Then I thought, OK, not music, not clothing maybe its the lingo.
But again a lesson from the past came to me, meeting people in their circle of friends, I was quickly instructed to work on my pronunciation, as not to sound like a "dutch man", "its not carrrrs, but roll your r's its cars", so since then I made a point of getting the language right.

Then it dawned on me, the masses are just trying to break my balls!, because no matter what I wear, what music I listen to, what I drive or for who I vote, I will forever be judged on my skin colour, and because I live in Pretoria I must be a BOER.

Thank you guys for taking part in forming this Bloody-Oulike-Eccentric-Rascal!

Well till next time.

Days of Our Lives.....

Wow its been a long times since I spoke to the masses, so many things happened, so many dilemmas had to be solved and so many tears had to wiped, but that is all in a days work.

Skinner street became Nana Sita, Cape Town will become //Hui !Gaeb , and I moved, from *&% Duncan street to *&% Jan Shoba street without spending one sent on furniture removal! this is a wonderful country! I went for a "routine nasal operation" and came back with severe hypertension, my daughter chose her high school, and guess what...? 

I'll be going to the Olympics! 

Yes you heard me the Olympics! 

I must just clarify for those who don't know me that well, I will be a spectator not a participant, as my category, "unfit-40 something-braai (barbecue) addict-with-a disposition- for-whiskey" is not yet an Olympic event! 

Although I believe it would be one of the toughest events, standing in front of a hot fire, postponing  the actual braaiing endless times to ensure that the coals are just right, only to find that there is more meat than you anticipated, and always forgetting the "braaibroodjies", holding an ice cold glass and constantly consuming liquids without being thirsty, replaying and analysing the game endlessly until it is so burned into your memory that you can’t remember your wife's name but you can remember the exact second Bryan Habana scored that vital try that won the Bulls the Super Rugby Cup....and then being in the dog-box as "whats-her-name-again" complains that the children are hungry! 

Like I said very challenging indeed!

The name changes on the other hand, is not an issue at all, before I could actually wrap my head around it my trusty Tom-Tom already had all the names memorized! I must admit that the pronunciation is still very much a challenge, but at least the spelling is the same and I can find Lilian Ngoyi, translate it to van der Walt and know exactly not to go there as the traffic is horrible!

What is very interesting about the name changes is that the Afrikaans community embraces it more than the African community, this is evident by the fact that every single African person I spoke to over the last 4 weeks refers to the streets by their old names, and all the whites by the new name! LoL who would have thought that! I tell you this is crazy!

Embrace the changes and challenges that are coming your way, it moulds you and makes you better.

Well till next time! 

One town, 500 residents and 12 church denominations and 84 political parties..............

As parents we like to have the best for our children, even if this means that we have to sacrifice certain things in our lives.
Well it happened a few weeks ago!
Having planned my Saturday to a T, which involved watching 4 Super Rugby matches, preparing for a wonderful evening with friends, and doing no physical activity what-so-ever, my plans were shattered by netball trials, that I knew nothing about!, and to say the least, I'm a very involved parent.
So I was informed that the trials will start at 14:00 and that it is held at a local high school and that it is part of a so-called "Bokkie week", loving Google, I wanted to do some immediate research, but alas "no time dad" came the response from the car!

I must admit, that it was nice to take Christy to the trials, and I felt good, as she was complemented about her abilities by various coaches from other schools.

The Game

 The said school is situated in a very different area of the city, it immediately became apparent that, to fit in I have to swop my Tucson for a Ford, my rum for brandy, and my K-Way hiking shorts for a rugby short (and preferably old at that), but not being a snob, I looked passed all this and asked if we were at the correct place, just to be informed "yes en jy is die regte kleur" (yes and you are the correct colour). This should have been a warning, but as I stated in a previous blog "If you don't like someone" I tried to look past this sultry remark and thought, "maybe I just don't know you well enough". As the trials went on, and I must admit that my daughter played very well in all three games, it became very apparent that these guys have ulterior motives and I became very uneasy.
So as soon as Christy played her final game, we packed it in and headed home.

Arriving home I immediately did some research and was shocked at what I found.

These guys of the AVS (Afrikaans Volkseie Sport) basically has segregated sport in a country that tries its best to be unified. According to their constitution its all about providing a fair and unbiased platform for children to compete against each other, as long as they are white! What hogwash!
Their main point of view is that white children doesn't get a fair chance in sport, thus their own competition, its like being in pre-primary school all over again, playing cowboys and crooks and hearing "Bang-bang you're dead! Fall or I'm not playing anymore!" or "I'm gonna take my ball and leave".

The Conundrum 

We are getting older, we are set in our ways and for most of us our career paths have been set out already, but our children are still young, impressionable, and they have to create a future in an uncertain society (globally). How do we  teach them about unity, about right and wrong, about staying loyal to your culture, to your religion and all this without harboring any biases towards others
Do we as parents condone this type of behaviour (from right-wing elements), or do we see this as just sport and innocent fun for the kids, I'm sure that someone once said "oh please leave that Hitler chap alone it is just the innocent ramblings of a mad man".

Well till next time.

Only 3 Hours!!! Not possible...........

The following shocked me when reading @UncommonFacts on Twitter, it states that if a man has sex twice a week for 40 years, the combined time for his orgasms would be less than 3 hours of his lifetime!

Adding this to Jens's remark about a bucketlist it made me think, long and hard, about how much time do we really spend enjoying ourselves.
How much fun do we really have?, how much enjoyment do we get out of life?, and what is it that makes you happy, and why don't we do it more often?

Clearly the "S" word is not the answer, because if we do the math, the average life expectancy of a person is 75 years (27,375 days), the clever people estimate that you will spend about 24 years of that sleeping, 12 years eating, 25 years working, 285 days (almost a year) on the toilet and if the above facts are correct about 1,1 day having sex, that leaves us with 14 years (+/-5110 days) to have fun, remarkable isn't it.
So why is it that we don't see more people smiling, laughing and just having a good time, is it because through the years we lost focus of life and started to fill our lives with all sorts of other ideas about life that just makes us grind away until, one day we sit and think, "I wish I have done that".

Many people is of the opinion that fun activities will cost you money and for that reason you cannot have fun, well I believe that you have to learn to live for today, to enjoy everything in life.
When I drive to work in the mornings I am so glad for Weetbix, because if I look at the facial expressions of some of my fellow road users it seems as if they had sh#t for breakfast! Everybody in his/her own world frowning and picking their noses, observing this activity is hilarious! especially is they realised that you saw them, the expression on their faces - PRICELESS!

Another cheap thrill is to read the You (or as I like to call it "Die selfmoord tydskrif"), people actually take the time to write about misfortunes or problems with the hope that it will be published!, and to get advise which they can get from any sane person, some stories are truly sick, for instance;

"Dear Uncle Murry

"I am 21 years old and have a sexual relationship with an older man for the past five years, he says that he loves me and that he cares for me, every birthday he takes me out to dinner.
My problem is that he does not want to take it to the next level, as he says he loves my Gran and wont leave her! What should I do?

Confused Boksburg"

and a more recent article in which the author complains that she is involved(or rather engaged!) in a relationship and has been unhappy since the word go! Now I ask you, if you know that you will be hurt if you put your finger in an electrical socket, because it happened to you once, why will you do it again!

My conclusion is thus, learn to live for today, enjoy everything in life, cut out negative vibes. Being happy is a conscious decision, not an emotion.

Well till next time.

Being tamed by the mighty Fish

Being christened into the hiking fraternity by starting with the ’Hell’ back in ’88, I stacked up an impressive array of hikes in a relative short space of time. These included, The Hell, The Otter, The Tsitsikama (3, 5 and 7 days), the Swartberg (3 and 5 days), the Outeniqua (3,5 and yes the 8 day course), the Hakerville and the Swellendam.

Those were the days, merrily hiking in the wonderful wilderness areas of the Southern Cape. But, as with us all, life sometimes takes funny turns and it was nearly 20 years later that Niconette phoned me to ask if I would join them on the Fishriver. With my heart jumping out of my chest and a smile as big as a Peugot 206 grill I calmly said yes as not to sound like a schoolboy who just had his first kiss!

Preparation "F"

Our booking was for the last hike in of the season, which gave us plenty of time to prepare. Asking information about the Fish was like asking for someone to give up state secrets! Some conversations were as follows;

Me; “We’ll be hiking the Fish in August”

Reply; “bad time you will be hiking in other peoples faecal matter (actually the word was K%$k)”

Or

Me; “Do you have any advice on hiking the Fish?”

Reply; “Yes prepare as if you will be running the comrades!”

Or

Me; “what did you pack when you did the Fish river?”

Reply: “Everything, you are in the bush for 5 days!”

Needles to say these conversations made me a bit nervous, as the last time I did anything more physical than channel hopping (on my coach that is) was back in the day when I was a weapons instructor in the Police. A good 5 years has passed since then and I became scared!

Thus began my vigorous regime which included;

·         Talking about hiking the Fishriver;

·         Dreaming about hiking the Fishriver;

·         Finding gadgets to take on the hike;

·         Promising myself to stop smoking before hiking the Fishriver; etc,

Everything except physical exercise! 
Now we all know that before you can attempt the Fish your Doctor has to complete a medical certificate stating that you are in good health, well the problem is that the strain test is not fully explained, thus Douw completed my form in the clubhouse after a round of golf (with a cart that is!).

The smile on my face is fear!

Being in Pretoria we knew that we had a 14 hour trip ahead (15 h 31 min according to google maps) of us. We set of at 02:00 AM heading for Ais-Ais. With the Padkos packed and taking turns to drive and stopping regularly, we still reached Ais-Ais at 16:00. 

We spent our evening at Ais-Ais making the final preparations with Justernini & Brooks consultants and Oom “Ryk-Gert-Louw” for moral support. The ambiance was amazing with the fire burning in one of the most peaceful places in the world.

Here we go!

FLTR: Elke, Ettiene (aka Verkenner Swemmer),
Niconette (aka Nurse Niconette),
myself, Oom David (aka Uncle Davie) 

With my heart pounding, and being short of breath I heaved my bag onto my shoulders and started an experience that will change my life forever!

Standing on the lip of the Canyon with the chain tightly gripped I thought to myself “this is it”, and all the exercise which I did came flooding into my mind, and then the next thought, “I’m stuffed” (actually it was “I’m F@#$ed”)! Many people will tell you that descending is the most strenuous part, don’t believe them, if you are unfit the worst is still to come.

My first evening in the canyon was a blur. I could only focus on food and rest. Lots and lots of rest!

As I’ve mentioned, with all the exercise which I did, it is not wise to enter into the canyon unfit! You not only endanger your own life but also rob your fellow hikers of a great experience. 

Fishriver Paving

Waking up the next after what felt like a coma, I really was in the same position as when I went to bed!, flashbacks of the previous day came flooding into my mind. I knew that we only covered about 6km for day one, which meant that there was still at least 20km for “Fishriver Paving” ahead.

 We reached Palm Springs early and had a brunch and a nice bath (yes greenies, we used bio-degradable, wildlife friendly, very expensive, lightweight soap). The going was good and our spirits were high.

What does this tell you?!

Sticking to our time schedule gave us time to organise the camp and enjoy the offerings which
 we carried with us, sitting in the cool water with a glass of red or a Whiskey while the sun slowly changes the colour of the canyon walls from brown to a bright yellow and then darkness slowly creeps up the wall changing the browns to the full palette of greys and blacks. I will not admit to making a fire in the canyon, as it is illegal, however I can admit to enjoying a nicely “cooked” steak while basking in the glow of a “Bushveld TV” enjoying stories of the day, and what might wait tomorrow.
The "Fish" truly changed the way I see things,it inspired me on a different level, will I go back?, the answer is DEFINITELY!, will I do it differently?, DEFINITELY!
The next trip is planned for 2013 and I am sure it will be a blast.

Well till next time.

If you don't like someone

At a recent fiftieth birthday I heard this saying "If you don't like someone, the chances are that you just don't know them well enough", and I decided to put it to the test.
Trying this was a challenge as I am a person, who through many years of experience (as a police official), have honed my skills of assessing a persons character quite accurately.
Clearing all preconceived perceptions from your mind, is to say the least, very difficult, but I tried. For four weeks I truely tried to get to know someone before making up my mind about them, and my conclusion?, ........trust your gut!
This came to me while relaxing in the sun and keeping an eye on my daughters as they were swimming and playing, and thinking of the first little obnoxious little twat that will come to my house to visit my daughters!
Arriving at the gate he will start to shunt me around, firstly to get up and open the gate, and secondly, as a guest, I will be forced to greet him in a friendly manner, although I know he only has ONE thing on his mind!
The formalities that follows will irritate the living daylights out of me!, what's your name?, what grade are you?, what sport do you take part in?, what does your parents do?, all this information plus a whole lot more will already be in my possession as any good intelligence officer will tell you. Rather subject the little infidel to a lie-detector test!
One thing that these little brats forget is that we where 16 as well, and boy can we remember! We might be on the wrong side of 30, but there is not one father on this earth with daughters that has Alzheimers, every little detail comes back to you with the words of the Bible, "the sins of the fathers" ringing in your ears!

So to the Troglodyte that wishes to date my daughters here are some pointers;

1. If you blow the cars horn in front of my house you better be delivering something, because you sure as hell will not be picking somebody up! You honk for a whore and a hound!
2. When you speak to my daughter you look her in the eyes, never anywhere else only in the eyes!
3. If you pants looks like it is loose or has been loose, or if you try to go “Gansta”, I will use my nail gun and secure it properly to your waist.
4. I don’t look mean, I am MEAN!
5. Don’t talk to me about politics, the weather or sport, all that I am interested in is what time you will be back, and the only words I understand is “before 10pm Sir”
6. Don’t stand around lazily waiting for my daughter, she is a woman, she may take her time, make yourself handy and wash the car.
7. I you make my daughter cry, you will cry! (refer to 4)
8. Movies with age restrictions is out!, Walt Disney is acceptable, but a visit to her Gran is preferable.
9. Don’t lie – I will catch you!
10. Don’t be relaxed because I’m a deacon – I do it to please my wife.
11. I take everything you say or do to my daughter personally – I will go to jail again, without blinking an eye!
12. For 20 years I trained some of the toughest motherfuckers in the world, so to cut you up into small pieces and feed you to the sharks is like playing a round of golf, NO SWEAT!
13. If you insult my daughters honour, your families bloodline will seize to exist, genes like that does not deserve a place on this earth, your mother, father, grandmothers, grandfathers, uncles, aunts, cousins, nieces, brothers and sisters all will pay for your sins!
14. I reserve the right, to knowingly or unknowingly, test your sobriety by means of blood or urine.
15. Any form of harassment or abuse against my daughter, whether physical or psychological will be seen as a direct attack on me and I will retaliate with swift, severe and certain action against you and your family. 
16. Any gifts I buy my daughter or anything she buys herself, belongs to her so keep your grubby little paws off! I hate a spongers!
17. If you decide to date my daughter she becomes number one in your life! No friends, family or anything activity take preference above her, nothing!
18. Alcohol can be consumed in moderation, but the first time that I catch you drunk, I WILL throw you in a bath of ice and harvest your kidney for someone who will appreciate it!
19. If you cheat on my daughter, Muslim Laws apply and I will change your manhood forever!
20. I reserve the right to add or change any of these rules without consent or prior notification. 

Well till next time.

Shutting Down and Re-Boot

Having had the opportunity to spend the school holidays with the family, and relaxing in the tranquility of the Waterberg, one of the most beautiful places in South Africa, I feel great!
Its amazing waking up in the morning lighting the "Bushveld" TV and having a cup of coffee.
Sitting and staring at the bushveld the emotions of the past couple of months start to cause turmoil!

The view from the kitchen.

The phone is not ringing, the e-mails are not coming in, there is nobody coming into your office and asking for your time!
The first two days you don't know what to do as the rat-race is constantly in the back of your mind, then all of a sudden it hits you, "I can rest!" The sense of bewilderment is gone and a change starts to happen, you become tired, you go to sleep and wake up refreshed, you are not irritable any more, you see the family with different eyes, you even like to do physical activities without having to motivate yourself!
For some this relaxation happens at a five star hotel, for some its a quiet evening fishing, and for some its being in the bush, but no matter were you find your solitude the most important thing is to enjoy it!
I learnt something when I was on holiday, the process of shutting down!
As I said the first emotion is anxiety, "what will happen if I'm not at work", then you start feeling lost, "why isn't anybody trying to contact me",  then the awakening, "things can go on without me", then you go into relaxation and enjoyment.
For some these emotions can happen in the blink of an eye, for some it takes hours and others needs a few days to get this sorted, so know yourself, and plan the duration of your trip that you can experience the true value of your get-a-way.
This holiday was excellent, there was no schedule, it was great as we all have schedules that we have to keep in the week, nobody complained if you had a beer ten o'clock in morning, you could basically just do what you wanted!
But as always the visit to "Oom Jan's" man cave was the topping! He is a character straight out of the Bushveld. Like Davy Crockett, or even Chuck Norris, just ten times more manly!

Oom Jan

Oom Jan tells jokes, educates you about the bush, firearms, hunting or just life in general. Discussing hunting rifles, shot placement and observing the veld has a whole different meaning, especially when a generous dose of mampoer has been added to the mix! You leave his den motivated, inspired and sometimes in awe, what a place.
We booked our hunting weekend on Born Wild for next year, and I can promise you it will be great.

In the words of  Isaac Mizrahi "The more relaxed you can get, the better you'll do".

Well till next time.

If I meet him I will.......

How many times have we uttered those words, "If I meet him I will inform him of this-and-that, or I'll give him a piece of my mind or I'll tell him how it really works.
Well I have, on may occasions! and there I was sitting in, the official residence of the  President of South Africa His Excellency Jacob Gedleyihlekisa Zuma, or as he is known in the circles JZ!
Pinching myself and looking astonishingly at everybody standing around having a few drinks and even Klippies, because you see people from all backgrounds have been invited, and I was thinking "How did I end up here?", "Am I dressed properly?", and "Is this really Bra Cyril (Ramaphosa) having such an interesting discussion with me!?
It all started with a sms, "Send me you ID No", that was it short and sweet. Knowing "D" (lets protect the privacy) I realised something was happening, I phoned and he said that I would get my chance to tell the President how I feel, since I always have so much to say.
Three weeks passed and I totally forgot about the conversation, when I received a sms stating that my vetting is completed and I am welcome to join the President at his official residence for dinner!, no gilded envelope, no smart delivery of the invitation just a sms! I phoned D and he assured me that this is not a joke and we have to be there at said time and date, with the warning that it is the President so don't be late.
And here I was rubbing shoulders with the rich, famous and powerful as the President came into the room. Having drinks and greeting every person personally, his charisma immediately became apparent, as he spoke to me you could almost say that at that moment you where the most important person to him. Then came the inevitable speech, now, I have listened to many parliamentary speeches and knew that this was not his strong point, however, that evening he spoke without a piece of paper and to say the least is was brilliant! (maybe he must speak more from the heart and less from the paper!)
Now at home I eat with my old T-shirts, for the obvious reason, my fork is too big and my mouth is too small, so here I was in a bit of a predicament, the rule is (according to my wife), stay away from  the sloppy stuff, no sauce and for the love of all PUT DOWN YOUR CUTLERY AFTER EACH BITE! So in the line to dish, Oxtail Stew, check, no chicken, cream spinach, check, roast potatoes, check, rice, check, sweetened baby carrots, check and thick brown gravy, check! 
Most of the people at my table were men, and it seems most of us had the same speech before hand, and as good men do, we forgot it promptly. Person across from me started with a big smudge of brown gravy on his R 3000.00 shirt, person next to me followed suit with a blotch of food on his lap, person to the left had his cuff in his plate, that left a few brave men standing, I was next to fall victim to the gravy, but the food was excellent!
After dinner we looked liked a group of business men who came out of a food fight and the conversation started, photos were taken and I had my chance to ask a question.
Here goes it, "Mr President why is it that the ruling party allows certain individuals to put our political stability  into disrepute by making outrages comments (guess who, yes Bra Ju-Ju), and the reply, "We are built on freedom of speech, however, we must always remember that that freedom comes with responsibility and if we misuse that we must bear the consequences". 
Well here I am a year after that incident and it seems as if he was right! 
Driving home that evening I had so many other questions, but I felt great, meeting the President was great, no matter who he is or what his political background is, it was still an honour. I can understand how people are swept into a frenzy when he speaks at a rally, more things make sense, and I read the newspaper with more attention to detail.

Well till next time.   

Economics, who really understands it!

Listening to economists and the President of the Reserve Bank I'm even more confused about how economics work, especially when we hear that inflation is high and that the interest rates have to be adjusted upwards.
My understanding, and I have to admit I'm not an accountant or economist,  is that inflation is a result of business inflating prices in order to gain a bigger margin. In layman's terms, they project there expenditure on future trends and adjust pricing accordingly, however their crystal balls may sometimes have cracks or smudges   on it and they project higher expenditure than it actually  is and the difference is inflation.
Now in this scenario the consumer, for those who don't know, its you and me, bears the brunt of this little miss-calculation!
So in order to still have a braai on weekends and to take the children to a movie instead of having them in the street and writing obscenities on the neighbours walls, we go into debt, thus spending more than we earn.
Now in order to stop you from braaiing, having a beer, taking the kids to the movies or just eating with the electric light on, the clever people at the Reserve Bank decides to hike interest rates, and who suffers, yes, you have it, the consumer again!
Out comes the crystal ball again and the whole process starts all over again!
Well I'm off to go and buy some beer and meat, no coldrinks its too expensive.

My happiest day would be if the IRB's Referee panel becomes involved in law enforcement!

No don't be shocked, it would be a blessing for all, especially for some government officials. The reason I say this is that their governing rules, The IRB Rule Book has 189 pages with something like 22 rules and their variations, but during any given match we only hear about, "Not binding", "Not rolling away", Not releasing". We never hear "Not straight into scrum", "Not releasing when one knee touches the ground" etc.
If they can arbitrarily decide on which laws to enforce imagine the impact on law enforcement, I can see myself driving on the N1 at 160kph and being stopped, the traffic official (an IRB man) walks around the car and says, "Sir I see your left tail light is not working, here is a warning please get it fixed", or even better "Sir when you conducted a lane change you did not let you indicator blink for 7 times as per regulation, there is a R500.00 statute on this offence but you will only be warned as we were instructed to concentrate on the wearing of seat-belts."
Even better, imagine they become involved in the medical field! "Sir, you have a cholesterol level of 8 but we are not focusing on that, your in-grown toenail is of major concern to us as you cannot run away from criminals that fast."

Talking to the boss can also be very interesting, "I know working hours are from 08:00 but this week I am focusing on being efficient".

Well till next time!