My Grand Niece

It's difficult to comprehend that this beautiful young lady who is 14 years my junior is my Half Grand Niece, her Great Grandfather is my Father or was should I say, if he were alive now he would be 117 years old.

South African English

Another E-mail I received about South African English, brings back some memories:

South African English... let it not be said that we're not unique!

How do you explain the word "sommer" to someone who is not South African? It's not only a foreign word, it's a foreign concept. Perhaps the English never do anything "just sommer". There really is no equivalent.... "Why are you laughing? Just sommer."

"Bakkie" is another one, very useful around this house for all sizes and shapes of containers and dishes. Also used for what they call "utes" in OZ or "pickup" in England. I find it an indispensable word.

We all know "voetstoots" of course. It's been officially adopted into South African English. There's no concise, one-word equivalent in English. "As is" just doesn't hack it. And it's such a humorous word, conjuring up images of pushing that brand new car home...

There's no good English word for "dwaal". It doesn't mean dream, or daze. It's close to absent-mindedness, but that's not quite it. Being in one so often myself, I'm not likely to stop using it.

I think "gogga" is the most delightful word for insect I've ever heard. Children all over the world should use it. "Insect" just doesn't stand a chance.

And I think "moffie" is a far better word than all those embarrassed English attempts at defining a homosexual: gay, queer, poofter... none of them are half as expressive. Somehow "moffie" doesn't sound as derogatory either.

And then there's "gatvol". OK, I know it's very rude. But it's so very expressive, nê?
"Fed up" doesn't have half the impact. "Gatvol" is a word used more frequently than ever in the workplace these days, with increasing intensity.

While we're on the subject, another phrase which outstrips any English attempt is "Hy sal sy gat sien". "He'll get his come-uppance" definitely lacks the relish in comparison.

"Donder" is another very useful word, used as an all-purpose swearword, which again has no good English translation. Used as a verb, it can express any degree of roughing up. As a noun, it is a pejorative, as they politely say in dictionaries, to mean whatever you want it to mean. And there's no good translation for "skiet-en-donder" either.

It says something about the English that they have no word for "jol". Probably the dictionary compilers regard it as slang, but it's widely used for "Going out on the town, kicking up your heels, enjoying yourself”.    Although curiously, the word "Yule" in Yuletide is related to "jol" and derived from Old English. So somewhere along the line, the English forgot how to "jol". 

How do you explain the passion of "lekker!"? "Wow last night was a "lekker jol".

I've yet to meet a South African over the age of two who doesn't use the word "muti". Translation is impossible - "witches potion" is about the nearest I can get. It needs a long cultural historical explanation. Between "muti" and the pedantic "medication", there's simply no contest.

And of course, my personal favourite "Kak en betaal" , which just says it all, doesn't it? A bland English translation would be "Cough and pay", or "Breathe and pay". But it just doesn't cut it, does it? Not by a long drop.

Other words that come to mind: "jou bliksem", "wag 'n bietjie", "nie so haastig nie", "just now", "sakkie-sakkie music", "ou swaer", "Ya, nee", and one of my personal favourites, "Poephol".

"Dudu". Telling your infant to "go to bed" is just not the same as, "Go dudu now, my baby!"

How about “bliksem"? "I'm going to bliksem you!". Both wonderful Afrikaans expressions with nothing to compare in the English language, at least nothing that gives the same satisfaction.

"Mielie pap" - there is no word like "pap", here. They have porridge, and when they say porridge, they mean oats. There's no Maltabela, no Tasty Wheat, No Creemy Meal... in other words, there's no "pap"!

"Mislik" - such a 'lekker' word. "Why are you so mislik, you little skelm?"
Which brings us to "skelm" - here you just get "baddies", but that doesn't have the same sneaky connotation of a proper skelm, does it?!

And "snot-klap"... fabulous word! "Do you want a snot-klap?" How would you say that in English? "I'll slap you so hard the snot will fly!"? It's just not the same.

"Loskop" is another favourite. The English just don't understand when I say, "Sorry, I forgot - I'm such a loskop!"

And finally..... "moer". There simply isn't a word here that denotes the feeling of dread behind the phrase "If you don't clean your room, I'll moer you!"
 

Random Kak by Trevor Romain

A nostalgic walk home from The Hill High school to Linmeyer with Google Maps

I love Google Maps, I was chatting to one of the ladies on the Hill High website and she was telling me where she lives, so I Googled it and then took a nostalgic walk through the South.  Probably a walk I have not done for many many years and will more than likely never do in real life again.

Hill High

If you have been on Google Maps you will know how you can walk by “mouse” through the streets in the map.   So I walked home from School (Hill High), stopping at all the houses where my friends lived to see what had changed.  I noticed that most of the houses that used to have open gardens, all had walls now with fences, but really nicely done so that you could still see the house, not like in some streets in the Northern Suburbs, where the houses had been built up with really high walls and electric fencing.  Although walking back now and I see there are a few with 8 foot walls and electric fencing.

So we (the mouse & I) walked up Plinlimon Road, passing house after house till we get to “Linmeyer Gardens” which does not seem to have visibly changed – I mostly always walked home from school on the left hand side of the road.  And then when we got to the end of Linmeyer Gardens we used to cross over onto the right hand side, by Quaggashoek Road, Stuart used to lived there from as far back as I can remember.

The Top Shops in Linmeyer

We would then either cross over the veld, or cross by the traffic light by the top shops, which also has some really good memories.  The guy who owned the shops was a Greek guy called Tommy, and yes he was one of those that Barry Hilton always talks about that never gave you your change if it was 1c or 2c or even in those days ½c, he would say take “chappies”, I’ve got no change.

Outside of the shops he had a Big Bubble Gum machine in the shape of a rocket; I guess it was big because we were so small.  David P ran off with the machine the one day, and Tommy ran after him, from that day forward the machine was always chained to the door or somewhere with a big lock.

Paraffin and the One Arm Bandit

The first gadget that Tommy had in his shops was a “one arm bandit” which now thinking about it was illegal in the 70’s, but then so much in that shop would have been illegal today.  So the “one arm bandit” cherry machine was moved into a room at the back of the shop, where they kept the big drum of paraffin.  The maid would send us up to the shop regularly to get a bottle of paraffin for the primus stove.  You had to take your own bottle and there was a pump where you would pump the paraffin into your bottle, I loved the smell – you can understand why kids become hooked on smells.  If we weren’t sent for paraffin, then it would be “10 Lexington” (cigarettes) and a box of matches.

My dad would send us to the shop to either get Tobacco, Cigarillo’s or Minerals (Ginger ale and the likes).  For mom it would be Bread & Milk or minerals.  The Café was the greatest thing as they would be open from early in the morning till about 7 or 8 p.m., all day Saturday and to start with only in the mornings on a Sunday, then Tommy would close for lunch on a Sunday and re-open later in the afternoon.

There was also a Café, come Fish & Chips shop on the right hand side of the road at the bottom.

Pin Ball Machines

To entice the youngsters to spend their money in his shop, Tommy got in some pinball machines.  They were put into the shop on the right hand side by the magazines.  If you wanted to meet boys, you knew they would more than likely be playing pinball, or if you wanted to show off you would play too, 10c a game.  I remember heading off to the shops on a Friday evening with Charlene, when we were supposed to be at Y.P. back in ’79 – ’80 when young girls could still walk around without any harm coming to them.   But this could lead into a whole other story.

So getting back to the walk

So if you walked down “Johan Meyer Street” which is where Tommy’s shop was situated on the right hand corner, I think he was number 1, you would pass the bus stop, next to the bus stop was the “United Building Society”, then the “Green Grocer”, Vintage (Mainly a stationary shop) he would order in our overseas magazines for us, my sister used to get “Jackie” from the UK and I would get “Tammy”.  Mr & Mrs Shaw were the owners.

Next door to “Vintage” was the hairdresser, Sandy’s mom always got her hair done there, then next door to that was “Paulwin” which was like an ornament shop but sold all kinds of stuff, bric-a-brac and then last but not least on the Corner was the butcher, loads of guys dressed in white coats and boots carrying dead animals (cows & sheep) into the shop and cutting them into the cuts of meat that people would then buy.  Often if you wanted a certain cut, they would go and fetch the whole sheep or cow from the back and cut it up in front of you.

From what I can see on Google Maps, the UBS is now a hairdresser, the green grocer a movie rental place and “vintage” is now the infamous “McCoys Pub”, I believe owned by “Sean Mc Coy” who went to Hill High and frequented by many old Hill High pupils, a few pool tables I would imagine in the shop that used to be the hairdresser.  “Paulwin” is a beauty salon and the butchers a bead place – but who knows whether that is still right today as you never know how old the Google satellite maps are.

Across the road from Tommy, the corner shop – I cannot remember what was there, but I remember when it became the Pizza shop, it was like the first Pizza shop in South Africa to me, it opened in about ’76.  You could either get take-away or eat in.  Next door was the Chemist, owned by the same guy for years and year until he died, and now I can’t remember his name, Jewish guy.   Carol used to have an account at the Chemist and because her mom & dad had got divorced and she stayed with her dad, he paid the account, so she would buy make up and all kinds of stuff.   And we will never forget the day that Morné asked me to go and by “Female Stuff” for his mom as he was too embarrassed, which of course I don’t blame him, which mother asks her 6 ft hunky son to go and buy her woman’s stuff.  If she ever wonders why he is now gay, well I guess that is just part of it.

Next door to the chemist was a dry-cleaners and then a small hardware or lock-smith and of course then the “Linmeyer Bakery”, which when you walked past you would get all the wonderful smells.  Freshly baked hot rolls, Biscuits, my favourite were petty-fours although the “La Rochelle Bakery” made much nicer ones.

I can’t remember what was in the next two shops before the “Golden Reef Café, fish & Chips shop”, but I remember when the Portuguese restaurant opened there in the late 70’s early 80’s.  Urban legend has it that in some fish & chips shops in South Africa, they never changed the oil used for frying the fish & chips, and then when clients kept getting sick, the police came in and made them drain the oil and they found a dead cat!  I see it is now called Zanzi Superette.

So continuing our Nostalgic walk through the streets of Linmeyer, there was another café at the bottom of Linmeyer in Elizabeth street, below the “Greenhill’s” flats that were owned by George’s dad, George was a guy in our class and I can’t remember what his surname was, he loved the girls, especially the blonde ones.   The Linmeyer post office was down there too, we would often go and fetch the post for my mom & dad, although the post was delivered to street addresses, so people would have a box address too, especially if you did not want people to know where you lived.

Going back to the Butcher and the Golden Reef Café, which were on alternate corners of Risi Avenue and Johan Meyer street, at the butchers you would turn right and walk up, originally back in the day there was an empty plot on the corner of Michael street and Risi Avenue, on which they built a temporary fire station, the fire station was linked to the main fire station in Turffontein, and during the week in winter they would send a team over to Linmeyer so they were closer to the hills where fires always broke out.  Incidentally it was used for Girl Guides on a Saturday, Y.P. on a Friday night somehow linked to the Rosettenville Baptist church and then on Sundays for Sunday school.

Across the road from the fire station were two empty plots of land separated by a street called “Post Street”.  When you turned left into Michael Street from Risi Avenue, we were the 2^nd house on the right hand side, although we were the first house in Michael Street as the one next door’s address was in Risi Avenue.   Our house was a modest 3 bed roomed, 1 bathroom house on a ¼ acre stand, what sold my dad on the house was the fact that it had a beautiful panorama window in the lounge which looked over the empty plot in front, and you had a view over the Linmeyer hills as far as Alberton.  Remember in those days there was no TV so I guess looking out the window was there TV.

Michael Street

After having moved out of Linmeyer for the final time when I got married in 1995, I never walked those streets again, even when visiting my mom.  I often used to think of buying the house from her and then renovating it to be how I wanted to look.  However when my sister finally convinced her to sell up in 1998, and move in with them – we had already bought so Linmeyer was no longer my home.   The Estate Agent who sold the house to relations of hers, got it for a song (all in cahoots with one another), and then basically changed the whole look of the house.  Because they had paid next to nothing for it, they had the money to put in a pool and do all kinds of renovations. *Feeling Sad*  My dad was in construction so had already done a number of alterations, adding a 4^th bedroom and an extra bathroom and utility room out the back.

I don’t know what changes they made to the inside or the back of the house, but from the front you can see that the panorama window was taken out and replaced with a big glass sliding door that leads down to the pool, however the beautiful view of the open veld is gone, you can no longer see down to the main road because a monstrosity of a town house complex “Silva Villas” has been built on the two plots of land, incorporating Post Street with it.  And then what looks like visitor parking for the complex, right opposite our old house.

What amazes me is how vividly clear the memories are of all the places and the houses.  Watch out for the next post on walking through the streets of Linmeyer. 

"Dance the Night Away"...

I did a post a while ago about the Clubs in Jo'burg, growing up in the late 70's and 80's it was the thing to do

on the week-ends, especially on Friday nights.  As I mentioned in a previous post, I probably went to my first "adult" disco when I was 13 years old, and the only reason we go in, was because we were with members of the "La Rochelle United" gang, and no one would turn them away!  I even remember it was a Wednesday night, how the hell I got out of the house that night I have no idea, but I am sure my friend Charlene gave them some kind of story.

It was Charlene, myself and her Spanish friend, if I remember correctly i think her name was Jaunita, she didn't speak English very well and spoke very fast all I remember was "Hey Pa" and pronounced P-u as in umbrella.  We walked from my house in Linmeyer to La Rochelle and then go into someone's car and went to a nighclub called "Tramps" at the "Diplomat Hotel"  on the corner of Klein & Bree Streets.  They used to give out free passes in the Tonight section of the Star to get in for free during the week.

They used to run "Teenage Disco's" on a Saturday afternoon at which no alcohol was sold to anyone under 18, we used to frequent "Plumb Crazy" which if I remember correctly was off the corner of Loveday and Jeppe street, it was one of the nicer disco's and they played good music.  My mom would not allow us to go to disco's so we told her were going ice-skating at the Carlton, she would drop us off (never asked why we didn't have thick socks with us), we would go into the toilets at the Carlton, paste on the make-up and then run all the way from Commissioner street down to Jeppe, and after the disco run all the way back.  I think eventually we just caught the bus into town on our own and told her we were going to movies at the Kine Center.

Besides "Plumb Crazy", "Club Chicago" also had a teen disco on a Saturday, that was were our friend Marius got badly beaten up by some of the La Rochelle united gang, because they fancied Charlene and he was dancing with her, no wonder he turned Gay (forgive me Marius).

Later when we were old enough to go to Disco's legitimately we must have gone to everyone in Jo'burg, Hilbrow, Sandton, Randburg and Pretoria.  Here are a few that I remember:-

"Just for Kicks" - A bit of a scummy joint somewhere near to the City Hall in Jo'burg, I remember walking from the Carlton Center in the middle of the night to meet friends there, this was probably round 1982, Crime was starting to pick up and either way a young girl should not be walking in the city at night on her own, so I carried a toy gun in my pocket just in case.  I'll never forget the embarrassment when I was searched going into the disco.  Luckily they didn't make me hand it in :)

"Ace of Clubs" - A really classy disco, and Thursday nights was ladies night, drinks half price and a Male stripper.

"Q's Supper Club" - Pink Patent leather I think the seats were.

"Xanadu" - A dance floor straight out of Saturday night Fever, very cool.

"Caesars Palace" in Braamfontein - Classy Place

"Raffles Night Club" in the Rand International Hotel in Bree Street, also a very classy place sister to Raffles at Sun City in those days.

There were so many clubs in Hilbrow, "Chelsea Underground", "Bela Napoli" and my mind has gone blank ... will have to come back to this.

In Hyde Park Shopping Center there was "Sasha's Singles Club" a really nice intimate classy place, it later moved to the Hyde Park hotel and changed names a few time, eventually became quite a rough place.

"Jacqueline's" in Pretoria, now that was a nice place, although the guys weren't as hot as Jo'burg guys!

"The Black Orchid" in Sandton - the girls were quite stuck up there

I'll have to continue this post when I can remember the names of the other places we frequented, let me know if you can think of any!

The Stander Gang

The Stander Gang were a gang who were on the run in the early 80's for Robbing a bank, and did they not rent a house in the street behind us and live there quite happily for a few months until the Cops caught up with them.

I even remember walking past the house they rented on many occasions and seeing the sports cars in the driveway, little did we know.

Here is the story:   http://www.africacrime-mystery.co.za/books/fsac/chp20.htm

André Stander

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André Stander
Born	André Charles Stander 22 November 1946 Gauteng, South Africa
Died	13 February 1984 (aged 37) Fort Lauderdale, Florida, U.S.
Known for	Bank robberies
Police career
Branch	South African Police
Department	Kempton Park CID
Service years	1963–1980
Rank	Captain

André Charles Stander (22 November 1946 – 13 February 1984) was a South African criminal and policeman. One of the most infamous bank robbers in South Africa's history, Stander was notorious for the audacious manner with which he carried out his crimes: he sometimes carried out the crime on his lunch break, often returning to the scene as an investigating officer.^[1]

Stander was portrayed by American actor Thomas Jane in the 2003 film Stander.

Police career[edit]

The son of a prominent figure in the South African Prison Service, Major General Frans Stander, André was under pressure from an early age to pursue a career in law enforcement. He enrolled at the South African Police training college near Pretoria in 1963, graduating at the top of his class. Shortly afterwards he joined the Kempton Park criminal investigation department.^[2]

Criminal activities[edit]

Robberies[edit]

Zonderwater prison

In 1977, Stander flew to Durban and robbed his first bank. Between 1977 and 1980, he is believed to have stolen nearly a hundred thousand rand.^[2]

After robbing nearly 30 banks, Stander was arrested and sentenced to 75 years in prison on 6 May 1980.^[1] However, since many of the charges in the sentence ran concurrently, he faced an actual sentence of 17 years.^[3] Stander met Allan Heyl and Lee McCall at the Zonderwater maximum security prison.^[1]

Motivation[edit]

After his first trial, Stander claimed that his disillusionment with police service stemmed from a prior incident when he and his fellow officers shot and killed over twenty unarmed black residents of Thembisa during the 1976 Soweto uprising. However, Stander was not present with the police contingent at Thembisa when the alleged shooting took place.^[2]

Other accounts have suggested that Stander, who completed his national service in Angola during the South African Border War, may have also been bored with civilian life and craved the excitement afforded by a life of crime.^[4]

Stander Gang[edit]

On 11 August 1983, Stander and McCall, along with five other inmates, were taken from its premises for a physiotherapy appointment. Once the prisoners were left alone with the physiotherapist, Stander and McCall overpowered her and escaped. The other prisoners refused to participate and stayed behind.^[5]

Stander and McCall returned to Zonderwater on 31 October 1983, in order to spring Allan Heyl from the facility where he was taking a trade test. From that day until the end of January 1984, the three began robbing banks together, under the nom de guerre of the Stander Gang – a term coined by the news media.

McCall was killed on 30 January 1984, in a police raid on the gang's hide-out in Houghton Estate, Gauteng. Heyl fled to Greece, then England, then Spain, and eventually back to England, where he was caught, tried, and sentenced to nine years in prison for robbery and a related firearms charge. After serving his time in the UK, he was extradited back to South Africa where he was sentenced to a further 33 years in prison. Heyl was released on parole on 18 May 2005.

While police were closing in on McCall in South Africa, Stander had been in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, trying to arrange for the sale of the gang's recently purchased sailing yacht—the Lilly Rose—that they planned to use for their final getaway once they had acquired enough money.

Florida and death[edit]

This section needs additional citations for verification. Please help improve this article by adding citations to reliable sources. Unsourced material may be challenged and removed. Find sources: "André Stander" – news · newspapers · books · scholar · JSTOR (January 2013) (Learn how and when to remove this template message)

While Stander remained in the United States, international arrest warrants and all points bulletins were issued for his arrest. Trying to make the best of the situation, Stander created the false identity of an Australian author named "Peter Harris" and forged a driver's license. Afterwards, he visited a used car lot and purchased a Ford Mustang from a dealer named Anthony Tomasello. On 10 February 1984, police pulled Stander over while he was driving and arrested him for driving an unregistered vehicle. Being relatively unknown to the American authorities at that time, Stander presented his false ID to the police, who recognized it as a forgery and subsequently seized it—adding driver's license forgery to his list of offenses—but believed his story about his identity and released him.

Once released on the same evening, Stander returned to the police impound lot where his seized Mustang was being kept, broke in and stole the car. On the following morning, Stander returned to the same used car lot where he had purchased the vehicle and asked the same dealer, Tomasello, to have the car re-painted in a different colour. However, Tomasello had just read about the Stander Gang in a local newspaper. He told Stander that he would help him, got his information, and as soon as Stander had left, Tomasello called his lawyer. On his lawyer's advice, Tomasello called the local police.^[2]

Based on Tomasello's information, a police tactical unit surrounded the apartment that Stander had been using as a hideout, but Stander was not there. He had acquired a bicycle to use while his car was with Tomasello to be repainted. He had left the apartment on the bicycle and returned only after the police had surrounded it. As he unknowingly rode up to the apartment complex, officer Michael van Stetina—who had been posted on the perimeter—recognised Stander and attempted to stop him.

Stander tried to get away, but as Stetina prevented his escape a struggle for the officer's shotgun began. The gun discharged and Stander was hit; he fell onto the apartment complex's driveway, bleeding profusely. Stetina immediately radioed for an ambulance. Although officer Stetina tried to administer first aid, Stander's wounds were too extensive and he bled to death before an ambulance arrived.^[2]

Rabbitt Rules Documentary

Johannesburg's Trolleybuses 1973

Sometimes...

Sometimes a few special words can mean the world to someone, and can turn a day from being dull and sad to happy and interesting ... thank you for making my day! :)

SOMEDAY TO BE HAPPY IS TODAY

Live your dreams
A little each day.
They aren’t out of reach
Unless you fail to reach out.
Put off unimportant things
But don’t put off living.
Other things can wait,
Your happiness can’t,
If your life is to have purpose and meaning.
The “someday” to be happy is today.

Choose how to live your life.
Life isn’t decided for us
But by us.
Every action is a decision with consequences.
Choose wisely!
The reward should always
Be greater than the price.

Take time to play, but also to think.
Life can’t mean much without much thought.
To be where you want to be
Ask yourself questions, then take action.
So often we go with the flow
And become lost.
Don’t be led; be the leader of your life.

Stop waiting for happiness to happen
and get busy making it happen.
Work with what you have
And what you have will increase.
If one door is closed, open another;
Happiness often comes unexpected.
Watch what you aim for
Because your heart will follow.
Aim nowhere and you’ll go nowhere.
Aim high enough and you may touch the stars.
Aim to be happy
And you will do much more than just pass through life,
You’ll live it to the fullest……

80s Adverts from South Africa

Charisma, MAMMY BLUE

Poison

Your cruel device
Your blood like ice
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you, but I better not touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison runnin'thru my veins
You're poison, I don't want to break these chains
Your mouth, so hot
Your web, I'm caught
Your skin, so wet
Black lace on sweat
I hear you calling and it's needles and pins (And pins)
I want to hurt you just to hear you screaming my name
Don't want to touch you but you're under my skin (Deep in)
I want to kiss you but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison runnin'thru my veins
You're poison, I don't want to break these chains
Poison
One look could kill
My pain, your thrill
I want to love you, but I better not touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison
You're poison runnin'thru my veins
You're poison, I don't want to break these chains
Poison
I want to love you, but I better not touch (Don't touch)
I want to hold you but my senses tell me to stop
I want to kiss you but I want it too much (Too much)
I want to taste you but your lips are venomous poison, yeah
I don't want to break these chains Poison, oh no
Runnin'deep inside my veins, Burnin'deep inside my veins
It's poison I don't want to break these chains

The Parlotones - Stars Fall Down

Trace my face while it's a happy face
When my smile fades I wanna remember this day
Passion killed by the comfort of time
I'm sorry if this makes you cry, but I have to speak my mind

Suck the colours from my eyes
When they lose their sparkle and forget to shine
Remember all the times you turned me down
I'm sorry if this hurts your heart but where's the spark, from the start?

Don't stop, don't stop
Nothing lasts forever soon we will be sober
So let's laugh, talk, tickle and taste till the stars fall down
The stars fall down

Embrace my reflection for a little while
For if I am to love I must try love myself
Cuddle with a cold corpse like frame
I'm sorry if my view of matrimony seems obscure, where's te fuel?

Don't stop, don't stop
Nothing lasts forever soon we will be
Sober, illuminated by the blood red sign
Let's rather lament on this starlight event

Dance, dance, dance naked under starlight
There's something about this glow that flows just right
Let's make tonight last forget about the past

So let's laugh, talk, tickle and taste till the stars fall down
The stars fall down

Don't stop, don't stop
Nothing lasts forever soon we will be
Sober, illuminated by the blood red sign

Let's fantasise before the real world comes
Crashing and colliding like lightning's angry temperament
Bubbling teenage love time will soon be up

Don't stop, don't stop
Nothing lasts forever soon we will be sober

Trace my face while it's a happy face
When my smile fades and I'm old and grey
All I'll have are these moments to retrace

Dusting off the Carlton - and its memories | Heritage

Dusting off the Carlton - and its memories | Heritage

Facebook

I have a few of my 'x's' on Facebook, but none that I would have had a full on relationship resulting in a bad break-up.  Some of them I dated a few times, I guess I was always after the one I couldn't have and also as soon as they were interested I would loose interest, I think it was all about the chase.

When I was 17 a friend of mine put an ad in the "Paratus Pret" for me, this was an army magazine and I guess it was the only reading material that some Army guys had while up on the border.  You see South Africa had conscription in those days, all white males were made to go to the army for 2 years when they finished school, or college or university.  I remember at school, in summer we would have assembly in the Quad and the principal calling all the guys who were turning 16 and they had to fill in their forms for the army.

Most guys dreaded it because you had heard so many stories about it.  Anyway to get back to to the reason for this post, (I'll have to do another post on the SA defense force) so I had this ad in the Paratus and within a few weeks of it being published I swear I had about 100 letters, I felt like a celebrity!  But of course I could not write to all of them, so those that enclosed a photograph and were nice looking, got put in one pile, those that sounded nice or had a nice handwriting got put in another pile, the Afrikaans letters or semi-Afrikaans went in another pile, and of course there were just those that you knew you were never going to answer.

Out of all the correspondence I had a letter from a guy called Dion.   Dion was in the Parabats in Tempe in Bloemfontein.  It was 1982 I had just stated working - anyway D would write occasionally but most of the time he would just phone.  It is so long ago now that I don't remember any of the conversations.  The things that do stick vividly in my mind, were D coming to my work to say hi, he would just drop in - I worked in a department at Barclays bank with about 20 other girls, D would pop in with his uniform on, he was 6ft 3 and good looking, and he would have to come to the pigeon hole, it was the reception area to ask for me.

It was almost quite prestigious having a boyfriend in the army and of course if they were good looking all the girls would be really envious.  That was round about the time that Iris at work got married and I needed a partner for the wedding, no wait that was a at the end of 1983 and I asked D to go with me - a whole story on it's own.

Then there was the time that D landed up in Jail in Bloemfontein, a whole group of them went to a farm looking to buy some marijuana from the locals, and of course they wouldn't sell it to them, so I think a scuffle broke out the cops were called and the guys landed up in Prison as it became a civil case.  I got a phone call from his mom and him and the next thing I was on a train down to Bloemfontein to see him, spent the day and took the train back that night.

Then I got a phone call from his mom when he was in the Military hospital @ Voortrekkerhoogte, they were supposed to be off to the border but D was on a trip of his own and landed up in the psychiatric ward at Voortrekkerhoogte.

Another time I remember was when my friend Mercia was in town from PE which would also have been 83/84 and she was staying at a hotel in Hilbrow, D met me there with a friend of his and we spent the night chatting and drinking and all ended up sleeping on the floor in her hotel room.

Disco ... Disco Duck ... the under 18's

The other day they were discussing nightclubs on the radio here in Dublin, and because I have only been living here for 10 years, some of them are still around however most of them would be gone, and it got me thinking about nightclubs I used to go to when I was growing up.

I probably first started going to nightclubs at a very young age, some of them were Kiddies Disco's which were on a Saturday afternoon and sold no alcohol and were for kids under 18, two of these were "Plumb Crazy" and "Club Chicago" both in the center of Johannesburg.   They would start at around 1 in the afternoon and finish at 5 or 6, so that they could clean up for the over 18's to come through the doors at 7 the same night.  But it was 1977 and John Travolta was ruling the dance floor in Saturday night fever, then came Grease in 1978 and the whole 50's era was reborn with stove pipe jeans, greased back hair and wild teenagers.

We also used to go to "Tramps" at the Diplomat hotel, only during the week though because they would have free entry coupons in the Tonight section of The Star.

A lot of fights would break out at the Disco mainly because of the Gangs from the South and most of the time it was always over a girl.

However, most of the disco's we went to growing up were either at School, The Tennis club, the cricket club or various places where there was adult supervision.   Once I left school, there was a huge big City out there to explore and Johannesburg, Hilbrow, Braamfontein, Hyde Park and Randburg had an abundance of night clubs just waiting to be discovered.

The early years

As far back as I can remember, I spent my pre-primary school at home with the maid, while my mother and father went off to work, my two older sisters were at school and I remember being very bored and getting up to loads of mischief. 

I started going to Sunday school creche at the age of 3 and we learnt all the bible stories, the Sunday we did moses in the bull rushes and made a basket out of some kind of play dough and moses was a jelly baby, well moses got eaten very quickly, even though he was covered in play dough.  Our Sunday school teacher was Heloise Louw, her husband was the local vetenarian and I think they only had one son Franscious, they may have had a daughter two.  There was another lady who used to help out and her name was Sheila.  In the cradle section of the Sunday school, I remember there being two other girls in the class with me - Morag Todd and Jill Hanekom, the weird thing is they have both passed away and both at a young age.  Jill was about 16 when her horse threw her off and Morag was 27 when she passed away.

I eventually started school at the age of 5 of couldn't wait to start, but I must admit I hated school, I loved the social aspect of school but that was about it. 

Grade 1 (1970) - My teachers name was Mrs Van Vuuren, she had been my eldest sisters Sisters standard 4 teacher so she knew me when I started.  I was late for my first day at school and wasn't dropped off by my mother as most of the grade 1 kids were, my eldest sister took me to my class.  The teacher asked me if I recognised anyone in the class and I recognised Jill from Sunday school, so she sat me next to Jill.  Our first day we were given thick wax crayons and we spent most of the day drawing, my mother had given me 5c to buy something from the tuck shop, in those days a packet of Simba Crisps cost 5c, but when I went to get my money it was gone.  It turned out Jill had taken my money and the teacher soon got it back, from that day on we were seperated and I think I sat next to Russell for the rest of the year.  Mr Higgs was the principal at the school.  This is the only year I received a school prize, I think I was either first or second in class.

Grade 2  (1971) - Mrs Buys, a red haired Afrikaner lady with a very bad temper and very very strict.  I only remember I hated her with a passion.  I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time one break time and was accused of spitting on Sharon Steyn's head this tall girl who was in another class, as it happened the Standard 1 boys were throwing orange juice cartons into the dustbin, and some of the juice happened to go on her head. I ended up being told to go to the headmasters office, but in the end the prefect felt sorry for me and let me go back to class.  This is the only year I remember doing a school concert, we were butterflys in "Teddy Bears Picnic".

Standard 1 (1972) - Miss Ciglar - she was really nice, my first English teacher, she made learning fun.  However I did get into trouble in her class one day when I had an altecation with Morag, Morag was teasing me and grabbed a letter away from me that I had written and I ended up scratching her and she cried.  The first boy I spoke to socially was in my class Chris Larsen and he was leaving to move to Durban.  Miss Ciglar was not too strict, but if we were naughty she would hit us with a ruler.

Standard 2 (1973) - Miss Da Silva - Miss Da Silva was by far the most beautiful teacher I had had, she was Spanish and all the guys in I class loved her and so did the girls.  She was very strict though and used to hit the girls with a wooden spoon on their hands, so hard that it stung like hell and in winter it would hurt even more so because I hands were so cold.  Standard 2 was the last standard that we remained in the same class for all our subjects, this was also the year that the swimming pool was built and we got to learn how to swim.  Our swimming teacher was Mrs Prout Jones. 

Standard 3 (1974) - Ah, now who was the teacher was it Miss Fourie, I think so she was a lovely ditzy blonde lady who used to hit the guys and the girls on the backsides with a T bar ruler if they were naughty.  She was our main teacher and also took us for Afrikaans.  This is the year we used to move classes for different subjects and Mr Naude took us for Music, I was chosed to sing in the choir and we sang in an eistedford at the civic centre and also put on a play called the H.M.S. Pinafore.  Most of the standard 5 boys had the main parts in the show, Gavin, David etc. and the boys in our year were the sailors and the girls were the ladies in waiting.

Standard 4 (1975) - Was it Mrs Callaghan or O'Callaghan I remember she was an Afrikaans lady married to an Irishman.  Can't say I remember too much about this year.  My eldest sister matriculated this year and was Head Librarian at Hill High.

Standard 5 (1976) - Last year in Primary school, school was a jol, I was also a girl guide and we went on some awesome camps, one in particular was to Louis Trichardt in the middle of winter with 500 other girl guides from around South Africa, we had the Lazy Daze camp in Magaliesburg, I remember Cheryl & Elaine and Shirly all being on this camp, the girls and boys had seperate dorms and our Vice principal Mr. Walsh came with, we played volley ball by the pool and I ended up breaking my arm.   We had veld school and we went off to some god forsaken place called Delmas where an army major made us act like soldiers and camp out under the stars, there were 2 or 3 different schools on the camp.

I was in a fabulous class, the girls were all becoming really beautiful and the guys so good looking, I had the biggest crush on Marc who lived down the road from me, but he was not one bit interested in me.  I remember at our Standard 5 farewell party at the school, I was just dying to dance with him and I think I did.  The biggest song that year was "I hate the music" by John Paul Young.

Kelvin's email

Okay so first let me tell you a bit about Kelvin, Kelvin played a significant part in my life growing up, I first knew Kelvin from Sunday School albeit he was 3 years ahead of me.  He was at a private school and when I was 9 and best friends with Melanie, Kelvin at the time was best friends with Melanie's brother Brian and they were at Marist Brothers Linmeyer together.  So sometimes if I was round at Melanies house, who lived on the corner of Risin Avenue and Peter place, Kelvin would be there. 

Later on when I was in high school I started going to Y.P. at the church and playing badmington and became friends with Kelvin, anyway here is an email from Kelvin that I received after I sent him Anne's email.

Hi Rose

Although this was maybe a little over a decade before our time this was extremely interesting.


What really ( among the many here ) brought back memories was mention of the East African Pavilion restaurant and the old Empire movie house.

My dad used to take my mom and I out to supper here easily twice a month. Just park the car in Eloff St ( before it was changed into a buses only road ), walk around the corner into Bree St and you’ll pass the East African on the right. 40 years later and I can still remember their beef curry!

My folks used to take me to see movies galore in the evenings and I remember there was a ‘Carry On’ festival at the Empire where they showed a different Carry On movie every night of the week. The folks made sure we didn’t miss one! In 1969 they demolished the Empire and numerous surrounding buildings to make space for the Carlton Centre.


Keep well and all the best to you guys


Kelvin

Farewell Old Friend ...

Robert Laing
28 July 2006 07:14 

Johannesburg’s Top Star drive-in has closed after 48 years and will literally vanish without a trace over the next three years.Remember, without eternal vigilance, it can happen here.Joe Bob Briggs, the cult drive-in movie critic of Grapevine, Texas, concluded his reviews with a paragraph like that whenever a drive-in died to make room for a “six-screen indoor-bullstuff puke-plex”.The last flik I checked at the Top Star was Sweeney!, which www.imdb.com says came out in 1977.

Considering I haven’t been to the Top Star in nearly 30 years, I can’t claim to be filled with grief. Sweeney! was a film spin-off of a BBC series the SABC dubbed into Blitspatrollie. My parents were huge fans and wanted to see what the actors sounded like in their original cockney. The reason this movie stuck in my mind is it was cited as a major influence by cop-turned-bank-robber André Stander.
It never inspired me to do anything great.I’m no drive-in guy. I’ve never gotten my parents’ generation’s fetish about wanting to do everything in a car. Statistically, nearly everyone my age was conceived in the back of a car, invariably at a drive-in.As a kid, I couldn’t understand why eating out meant the White Pigeon Roadhouse where fine dining was a waiter clipping a tray on the driver’s door.

Going to the movies meant the drive-in. This involved a sordid business of hiding in the boot with a horde of other kids. This was partly to evade the age-restriction police, and also because it was before the days of charging a flat rate per car. Once word got around that a family was going to the drive-in, every brat in the neighbourhood invited him-or herself along. So to keep things affordable for pa, kids got sneaked past the ticket office in the boot.None of those 2 to 18 age restriction fliks had any ill effect on us six-year -olds.
Apartheid censors cut all the nudity out and we didn’t watch the violence. We were too busy running around spying on other kids getting conceived in the backs of cars.For those of you who mourn the Top Star, take consolation from its noble death.

Some say drive-ins declined because they abandoned their specialty low-budget skop, skiet en donner for mainstream block-blusters. The Top Star’s last picture show was Running Scared, which, from its imdb.com description, sounds like a cert for Joe Bob Briggs’s four out of four stars. The Motion Picture Association of America slapped an R-rating on it “for pervasive strong brutal violence and language, sexuality and drug content”.This flik met all four of Joe Bob’s criteria for an ace drive-in movie right there.

Furthermore, the Top Star did not die to make way for any “multi-screen barfo-plex”. Its new owner, JSE-listed DRDGold, expects to extract four tons of gold from the five million tons of yellow sand in its underlying mine dump. Clearing the mine dump will open valuable real-estate space in Selby.It is also likely to raise property prices in the southern suburbs which in the past were blighted by the fine dust from surrounding mine dumps. I’m sure Joe Bob would agree that far from being a “Communist Alert!”, the Top Star’s demise is a victory for capitalism.I have just one word for anyone who insists on getting weepy eyed over the Top Star: Velskoen.

The Velskoen is now Johannesburg’s sole surviving drive-in, probably giving this city one more drive-in than Grapevine, Texas, now has.Though columnist John Bloom still uses the pseudonym Joe Bob Briggs, he has long stopped writing in the persona of a redneck enthusing about R-rated zombie chainsaw-fu kak.

The datelines of his recent columns are New York rather than Grapevine and are stock liberal politics. His earlier drive-in reviews are very funny and can be read on the web at www.joebobbriggs.com.As someone who thinks the only good drive-in is one turned into a parking lot for a mall, preferably one with a Cinema Nouveau multiplex, I asked for comment from two people who might care -- Joe Bob Briggs and Jeremy “Ag pleez deddy won’t you take us to the drive-in” Taylor.Unfortunately, neither responded by deadline.
Taylor seems to be doing the Chicago folk circuit at the moment, and his United States agent Rich Ball sent me this: “Sorry to hear about the Drive-In.

We don’t have many of them left here either. Time was when fundamentalist preachers railed against them as dens of iniquity and passion pits. God has taken about half a century to answer their prayers. Well, God does move in mysterious ways ...”