Much to crow about.

So much has happened since I last posted. Most of my writing has been on the xenophobic attacks. Not the kind of subject matter I’d imagined for this blog so I’ve kept it separate. I will say this much though. I am heartbroken, and jaded, and disappointed, and angry. I can’t believe we’ve done this.

That line from Fight Club

Meet Carol and Hannah. I believe I did for a brief spell. Hannah describes herself as the queen of England and there’s a certain regal charm to her which befits the title. Carol is more of a tiny explosive with a thick Southern accent. What did we speak about? Not much. Hannah and I did take some very odd photographs together. Carol and I argued about just how much I realistically resembled Enrique Iglesias. But I had fun with Carol and Hannah, and then they were gone.

Meet Hugh. Hugh who caught everyone’s attention by wearing nothing but a bed sheet to Flor’s party (the theme was Greece not surprisingly). Hugh was cold but he put on a brave face and drunk enough to warm his cockles I suspect. The two of us wound up in a skirmish with a plastic and foam sword respectively. I’m not sure that I faired very well but it was good fun, and then he was gone.

Meet Todd. Todd stands solemly in the corner and makes conversation with some more strangers. I join them in the heat of the fire and they’re talking about the violence, which has been on my mind a lot lately, so I join in. Eventually Todd and I discuss the situation in Zimbabwe, what are the crucial factors in the upcoming run off. I live - and occasionally love – current affairs, so I’m drawn into this conversation quite naturally. It was enjoyable and engaging, but then Todd was gone.

And then I left, and thought about the strangers I’d met. And what their stories were. There’s that line in fight club “Tyler, you are by far the most interesting single-serving friend I've ever met... see I have this thing: everything on a plane is single-serving...”

Okay it’s not that direct but the idea is this: Every so often we go out, we see people, interesting people, people we might like to be friends with in another lifetime. But they’re not lifetime friends, not this time. You meet them once, you get them in a single-serving. You don’t pick up their details at the door, probably because you don’t want to intrude in their lives, and you don’t even really bother to say goodbye.

I often wonder, is there a point? If every act should be performed with purpose, what does one serving give you? How do you know you’ve made the most of it?

The Crows and the Kugels

I’ve never believed in the phenomenon known as the Sandton Kugel (cool girl) until this Friday past. I'd heard horror stories from some of the Joburgers on campus but had never seen one. It was sometime after Flat Stanley had completed their set and we awaited the entrance of the Counting Crows with bated breath. I heard them before I saw them “Sorry we have friends up here…sorry,…sorry.”
They didn’t - the company I was keeping held all the space in front of them and they didn’t know us. I squared my shoulders and shuffled slightly to the right, obstructing the young imposters. The blonde queen bee groaned at that point but I was unperturbed. This is as far as you’re getting young lady, I thought.
She turned to her posse “I have to get to he front,” she pouted. “Adam Duritz needs to see me and he needs to go home with me.”
“I know,” agrees her brunette friend in the skull and crossbones overall.
Blondie desperately surveys the crowd.
“It think there’s a small space over there, I’ll go in and you just join me later.”
“They won’t let us through.”
“What are they going to do? Nobody’s going to push us out.”
“But,” the brunette objects and my ears go red, “this guy just did.”
“He’s a dick.”
He was here before you, I thought, but couldn’t be bothered to explain to these young banshees (if you’ve heard the Kugel speak you’d know why I say banshee) that they were not the centre of the Universe.
Skulltop seems more sensible “Why don’t we just stay here? We’re close to the front and we’re not supposed to be in golden circle anyway.”
Blondie would have none of it “Okay…mmm… okay,” she looks slyly at a guy standing just to my 1 o’clock, “I’m going to flirt with this guy.”
Guy groans loudly and visibly rolls his eyes skyward.
Blondie stops her hand, which was en route to his shoulder, and draws her brunette friend in closer, whispering conspiratorially “All of these guys are dicks!”
“Okay…. Okay,” she refrains, “I’m just going for that spot. You guys join me later.”
And with that she was off.
Skulltop actually seems relieved, she didn’t join Blondie but enjoyed the concert from her position just behind me. The Crows had arrived. All was right with the world.

I don’t care much for the Crows new album. It’s good but not by contrast to its predecessors but live performances always mitigate mediocre album attempts. I have a newfound appreciation for Cowboys (the track) and Hanging Tree. The rest was phenomenal. The first time I’d seen them live, Anna Begins had brought me to tears and this time it nearly did again. What a song. The album version is not much to speak of but anyone who’s heard a live version of this song will know. It is the highlight of any Crows performance. Unless you don’t really know the band, then it would be Mr. Jones. Which is always fun I suppose. I got my money’s worth when They performed Round Here (which they didn’t at the last concert) with the Have You Seen Me Lately and Murder of One interludes. People who are not into the Counting Crows are bored by now but I just wanted to come full circle..

While Duritz was on stage he said that South Africa was a beautiful nation, and that he’d noticed what we accomplished in our transition all those years ago. Then he became more sombre. “I know you’re having some trouble now…. but you will beat this.” He mentioned that troubles with immigrants were prevalent in his own United States and urged us to be understanding.

Sadly he was talking to the wrong people, The Kugels don’t care about the immigrants or the people attacking the immigrants for that matter. But hearing someone who is something of a hero to me bring this up made me truly sad. I didn’t cry during Anna Begins but at that moment I cried, for the dead, the displaced and burnt and the children forever scarred…