About Me

I am the world's worst travel companion. As soon as I embark on a journey, whether it be land, air, rail or sea I suddenly embrace an alter-ego and become absolutely horrible. I have always enjoyed observing people, creation and basically everything. I like to think, as does everyone, that I have a keen sense of humour albeit a little obtuse from time to time.

Saturday, December 8, 2018

What is it about a bee dutifully going about its daily routine that is so fascinating?

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Driving Lessons

My brothers and sisters taught me to drive through necessity.

My father had an Isuzu vanette (what many people refer to as a bakkie or pickup truck) which was used as the run-around, gopher vehicle and was basically driven by anyone who was available and was also used, on many occasions, by my older siblings for their own transportation.  Unfortunately, due to sanctions by a world hating Ian Smith and punishing all who showed their support of his leadership in having the audacity to remain in Rhodesia, spare parts were hard to find.  Interestingly, nothing much has changed which makes me wonder if it has something to do with the location on the map rather than leaders, but I digress.

The Isuzu’s starter motor malfunctioned and, due to the lack of spares, this resulted in a lot of push-starting for some time.  The assigned driver for the day would have to use an incredible amount of ingenuity to portray their desperation as a lot of fun in order to cajole any one in close proximity into pushing the Isuzu.  Usually, the assigned driver was generally one of my older brothers or sisters and the closest and readily available victims were, more often than not, our siblings!

The last time it happened, my brother Leonard applied his interpretation on the theory of thrust to weight ratio – see below


 I, being the youngest and therefore the least weighty, was thrust into the driver’s seat.  The set of instructions given by each of my older brothers and sisters seemed fairly simple.  I firmly clasped the steering wheel with my nine year-old hands and stretched my legs to maximum length by extending my toes as far as they would go, strained my neck to see above the dashboard and listened carefully for the command “NOW!” which meant “take your left foot off that pedal (release the clutch) and put your right foot on that pedal (hit the accelerator)”. The excellent student that I was, I did exactly as I was told. 

However, as my siblings were focusing on the lift they would have to the local bioscope (movie house or cinema for those of you not as old as I am now) thus alleviating the drag of staying on the farm, they omitted to tell me how to stop the confounded vehicle without stalling it and off I went at a cracking pace with my brother, Leonard, hanging on to the tailgate screaming “Lift your feet up, lift your feet up!”   Fortunately, this happened along a very, very sandy farm road and the vehicle came to a majestic halt - eventually.  See below

 Needless to say, my next "driving lesson" focused on stopping without stalling! 

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Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Artificial Intelligence is no match for natural stupidity

Recently, I entered a competition run by a car manufacturer who wanted stories relating to occasions when a vehicle had caused one to smile.  This brought back to mind many vivid memories including the story of my beloved father and his incredible natural affection for people whom he did not know which I submitted to the competition and so, I have decided to begin my blog with one other such moment.

I had been called out to a client whose network had gone down.  Getting into my very old Corolla I discovered I had left the lights on and the battery was flat.  My son’s car was in the driveway, it was early and he was asleep, so instead of waking him up, I devised a plan that would enable me to get my car started. 
Our driveway is exceptionally steep so I would single-handedly tow my car up the drive with my son’s car and roll start my car from the elevated angle.  I reasoned :
Step 1   Place my son’s car tow-hitch to tow-hitch against my car and
Step 2   use the Dog leash (I have bullterriers the leash is exceptionally strong) to tow my car a little way up the drive. 
Step 3   I would then put the handbrake on in my son’s car and leave it in gear, and
Step 4   quickly alight from the vehicle and jump into my car and put its handbrake on and put it in gear, 
Step 5   return to my son’s car, reverse slightly,
Step 6   disconnect the  “tow-rope aka dog leash” and
Step 7   return to my car and roll-start.
Well,  that was the theory.  In practice, however,  I got to Step 4.  As I approached the door to my vehicle, the knot I had used to tie the dog-leash to my son’s car suddenly and in an amazingly swift, single action, came undone and before I could say “Bob’s your uncle” my now untethered little car went zooming down the hill, narrowly missed two cycads, gained additional momentum on the grassy bank  and in an unwanton fury of horsepowerless-thrust dodged a chinese palm and came to rest amidst a number of indigenous trees saved by the mulch beneath them!
After collapsing in state of hysterical laughter, I calmly stood up, regained my composure and phoned the insurance company.  Mentioning that I was insured with an all risks policy I asked if all risks covered sheer stupidity .  They, too, were hysterical with laughter and assured me I was insured against that too. 
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