My Parents = Awesomeness

My parents are cool. I'm talking ice-ice-baby cool.

The first time I realized this was when my Mom and Dad went to see BonJovi live - I must have been in my early teens. I was in awe, total awe, of how 'cool' they were. And darn proud too.


You see, I've always grown up in a home filled with music, and good music at that. It's one of the things I have always been grateful for, and I can credit my passionate love for music to the home that I was brought up in.


 My mom has always had her rock music belting it out, and then in the next moment, she'd be playing a tricky classical piece on the piano. The diversity of music in our home was always astounding. So the BonJovi thing shouldn't have been such a surprise, but at that moment, in my mind, my fogeys went from being "Oh my gosh, parents are lame" to being "Oh my gosh, my parents totally rock, they're friggin wicked, my mom is a rock-queen, they're my hero, oh I could just die from the awesomeness!"

Something like that. 

It occurred to me recently that after all these years things haven't changed much. Unlike so many older generations, my parents aren't stuck on The Carpenters or Meatloaf or even BonJovi- and I wouldn't fault them this, as they are all amazing bands. But my fogeys are still with the times. Ok, so they're not quite into Lil Wayne or Black Eyed Peas, but who, in their right mind, would be anyway?

You see, the other day, my Mom excitedly told me that she has bought an album by Christina Perri. Christina Perri is mostly known for her track "A Thousand Years", played on Twilight's latest album from the Breaking Dawn movie. It's no rock song, but it's modern... and it's on Breaking Dawn. How much more 'with-it' can you get?

My Mom. 

Likes a Vampire song.

From Breaking Dawn. 

Have I mentioned how cool my parents are? 

You're so vain...

...You probably think this blog is about you...

Don't you?

Don't you?

Don't you!?

Interesting fact: For years, people mused about Carly Simon's "You're so Vain", trying to speculate who the song was about. In 2003, this information was 'auctioned off' to a bidder who paid $ 50 000 to know the name of who the song was written about, on condition that the name was never released publicly. Dick Ebersol, president of NBC sports, was this highest bidder, and was permitted only to release a very vague clue to the public, as to the song's subject. A clue that led nobody near the truth.

In 2010, 38 years after the release of the song, Carly Simon finally gave the clue that the public needed to crack the mystery once and for all. She claimed that played backwards, the track would contain a person's name... and so it was: the name "David" whispered, hidden for all to hear for nearly 4 decades. 

David Geffen was a record label boss who had apparently shown favour to Joni Mitchell at the time, inspiring an outburst of jealousy and resentment from Carly Simon, and ultimately fueling this timeless tune, which ironically has given Carly Simon her lasting fame.

Well now you know!

But Mostly Damon

A few months ago, I posted a blog about Gareth Cliff, which basically highlighted the fact that you either love the dude, or you really hate him... and sometimes you swing both ways, depending on the degree of arrogance and outspokenness he's acting out on air. 


Personally, despite the fact he can be a real jackass, I'm still currently on the side of loving Gareth Cliff. And even though the 5FM morning team cut the award-losing soap opera, Days of Our Mornings last year, which was a tragic loss to quality radio listening. 


So it's no surprise that a few weeks ago Gareth Cliff took arrogance to a new level by masterpiecing a song - yes, a musical song - called "I work with Idiots", dedicating it lovingly to his morning show team. This song has taken the 5FM audience by storm. The alarming thing is that as far as actual music goes, this song is quite pleasing to the ear. It's a chilled, electronic piece, with some rather pretty piano in the foreground. The lyrics, although limited, are well articulated and nicely spoken. I'm particularly fond of the line "But mostly Damon". 


Soon after the epic release of his track, Gareth followed suite with a ground-breaking music video. My only criticism is that the action-packed nature of the video did not co-exist well with the sensitivity of the actual song, but it is otherwise a star-performance by the whole team, and mention must be made of the special effects team's brilliance at work. 


Yes, this is most certainly a hit in the making, so without further adieu, I present to you....

I Work With Idiots - By Gareth Cliff <-- (Click)

Thabo, Leigh-Anne, Mabale, and Sias and Damon must be so touched. But mostly Damon.

MCR Lyrics of the Day

Considering that this blog is partly inspired by My Chemical Romance (see my first blog post ever here - lame!), I do get the occasional, irresistible urge to spurt out some random reference to them. I've been listening to MCR for 3 solid days now, every moment I get, and so I am just bursting with the urge to spurt, and thought I'd begin this "MCR Lyric of the Day" tradition, for times like these. 


So I'm beginning with a track off their more recent album, "Danger Days" a song quite simply called "Na Na Na". I'm not sure how many "Na's" there are supposed to technically be in there, but you'll know the song if you're a fan. 

This song in it's entirety is not meant to be understood... It's way 'out there', and totally abstract, and I don't know if anyone except Gerard Way truly knows what it's about, although I've heard it speculated that it's about corrupt society, commercialism and greed. Pretty deep stuff for a rock band.

Gerard Way being out there and abstract

But for all the bizarre lyrics, this one excerpt is so plain, and so cutting, it catches me mid-thought every time.

Excerpt from "Na Na Na" - My Chemical Romance

Everybody wants to change the world

Everybody wants to change the world

But no one..

No one wants to Die

Wanna try, wanna try,

Wanna try, wanna try, 

Wanna try now..

How true, that we as humanity are so very quick to verbalize our opinions on what would make this world a better place, but as soon as that requires some self-sacrifice or discomfort... well, that's a different story. Thought-provoking stuff. For a rock band.


Listen to "Na-Na-Na" here - it's a censored version, so feel free to crank it up! It flipping rocks.

Get Your Motor Runnin', Head Out On the Highway!

Wednesday 21st March, Human Rights Day in South Africa - we had the pleasure of attending a race day at one of our local race tracks. It's always such a good time, and I find it hard to understand people who are not petrolheads. Granted, being married to a petrolhead of such proportions - it is nearly an illness for some - I didn't have much choice but to fall in love with motorsport, but still... how can you not at least "appreciate" cars?


I won't pretend to know a great deal. I don't know how many horses they've put into a Mustang, or how many kilowatts power a BMW. I can't tell you much about a turbo or suspension, although I'm learning that cars with more valves have a lower torque, but a better overall performance. I do know what torque is, and how to spell it. Damn, I'm good.


There are various aspects that would entice someone like myself into the world of motorsports...


Food, for instance. There is some kind of scientific law of nature that guarantees that car people are also naturally food people. And as such, one is always guaranteed that car exhibitions, shows and races will likely have the best in burgers, chip 'n dips... and mini doughnuts. Yes... *dramatic pause*... Mini doughnuts. Crispy and sugary on the outside, and soft and warm inside... drenched in hot chocolate and caramel sauce. Yes! I admit that perhaps 50% of my enthusiasm for motoring events may stem from my deep-found appreciation and passion for mini doughnuts, but the other 50% should hopefully count for something.


And part of that 50% is the element of surprise that makes race days just... delightful! For instance, look at this....

This is Mark du Toit's 1969 Ford Mustang. It looks pretty quick, right?
Wrong. It's just pretty. 
With all due respect to the Du Toit family, whose collection of beautiful cars possibly outnumbers my collection of favourite songs (which is impressive), the Mustang is a bit of a boat on the track. And that's ok. If it's primary role is to evoke sighs of desire and gasps of awe, as a ballerina would as she pirouettes across a stage... well, the Mustang does a darn good job of it. R-E-S-P-E-C-T. The Mustang makes losing a race look graceful and timelessly wonderful. 


Then there's this....

...Racing against this...

...Neck in neck, lap after lap... how is that possible?? The VW Golf belongs to Mr. George Economides who is admittedly a legendary driver, and who had the honour of taking on the Nissan Skyline GTR in an epic battle who was owned by... well, someone with a great deal of money, and possibly a less legendary driver. We were all on the edge of our seats, watching these two take each other on, right until the end. Incredible entertainment! 


And then who wouldn't love seeing two little Lotus's...

... WIN - take first and second place consecutively - in the "Ultimate Street car" category. Not a BMW M3. Not a Honda Civic. Not a Mustang (obviously). The sweet, little, heartwarming, "cuddle-me-please" Lotus. First and Second place. 


Of course, there are also the ageless sounds of a race-day. The constant background sound of motors being tested to their limits on the dyno. Commentators yammering away, and cheesy old music blaring from crackly old speakerphones. Revving V8's and rotary engines that can only be described by saying that they sound like pure.... testosterone. Which would usually be extremely annoying and gross, except that at the race track it becomes extremely cool. 


So, sure, I don't know much about cars, except that I do love them. I shall thus end with a particularly fitting, cheesy music track - yes, there is always a song. And when it comes to tyres on tarmac, there is only one: Steppenwolf's "Born To Be Wild".


Turn it up, Fellow Inhabitants of this Planet, and let's cruise.

Open Heart Surgery

Dear Lord, 


I've been asking You to change me, from the inside, and make me into the person that You created me to be. I've been asking You to use me, to make a difference in my little world. 


Last night when I was praying, You laid on my heart to contact someone that I haven't spoken to in a long time. Someone that hurt me, and ultimately, someone that I also hurt in return. You laid on my heart to apologize for my part of the heartache, and to make things right. 


So I did just that, I contacted them, and You gave me the words when I didn't know what to say. Papa, I didn't expect a warm reception of my apology, but I had hoped that my words would fall on a softer heart. Instead, the response was cutting. 


Father, was I not being obedient to You? Did I hear You right? Did You really want me to dredge up the past and really deal with it - I thought we were doing quite well, just burying it until it didn't ache anymore. Deep down, I know it was the right thing. Sometimes, doing the right thing is painful. It can be humbling. Sometimes it even seems to backfire at the time.


My only reward, I guess, is in knowing that I've done everything that You wanted of me. Wow, it was more than a bit uncomfortable, and so humbling that it hurt. But We did it, and I'm glad. That's more than enough reward for me. 


Lord, this is one burnt bridge that may never be re-built. It is my heartfelt cry to You that You will build ten bridges for every broken one, and that someone, somewhere, will be there for this person where I failed them so long ago. 




Matt 5.46 "If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that."

Translation: If you are kind only to your friends, how are you different from anyone else?

As it turns out, being changed from the inside requires some open-heart surgery... but it sure does feel good. 

The Thing About Being an Aunty

So it's not really "news", especially for those that know me personally, but I am about to become an Aunt. My beloved big brother and his beautiful wife will be welcoming their firstborn into this enormous world in just two short weeks. Or sooner, if baby has anything to say about it. What a silly comment, considering that newborns (unborns, especially) don't say much in the first place. Never mind, you know what I mean. 


In any case, I am about to become a very proud, glowing Aunt of a perfect little boy. Of course, I've had a good seven-or-so months to ponder this new phase of life, and am pleased to announce that not only am I going to glow and be proud, but I am also going to be the very best Aunt that this world has to offer. 


The thing about being an Aunt is that, much like the child's grandparents, you get to indulge the child without the drag of being a disciplinarian. The difference is that while Grandparents are utterly and endlessly lovable to their grandchildren, Aunties and Uncles are ultra-cool and super-awesome... up until the child reaches about twelve years old. At which point he discovers a mind of his own, and at which point he will begin to disown his family one by one. (Except the Grandparents, of course) 


And so, I've been working on my game plan, on how I'm going to be the best Aunt on the planet, and hopefully prolong my state of awesomeness by a few years perhaps. 


For example, Grandparents give their grandchildren cake and marshmallows and Smarties, which is all very well as far as good old-fashioned sugar highs go. However, I plan on giving him Dracula-teeth-sweets and sour worms. Not only that, but I will ensure that I, too, have some vampire-teeth of my very own, and together we will wreak havoc and terror on the world with our terrifying terribleness. 

I am also not only going to give him his favourite cookies, but we will actually make his favourite cookies, in my very own kitchen. I will ensure that by the end of the exercise, he is covered head to toe with flour and sugar, and giggling like a girl at the silliness of it all. 


I then plan on carrying this giggling sack of potatoes over my shoulder and tossing him into a warm bath filled with bubbles, rubber ducks, and action men, and letting him play until his hands and feet are pruned beyond recognition. We will make soap-bubbles the way my Nana used to make for me. Bath times will be... Epic. 


Judging by the sweets and cookies, you may think I'm going to fatten this child up good and proper, right? No, no, of course not. I'm also going to set him free in our garden. I'll be the Aunt that kicks off my shoes and runs with him. We won't run anywhere in particular, we'll just run and run, until the great, big imagination in that adorable little head of his comes up with some kind of game to be incorporated into our run. And we'll dig up worms, lots of them, into wriggling piles of fun and awfulness. 

And so it goes on... All I want to do is give this little boy as many reasons as possible to love living in this great big world. In light of all that parents do to nurture, protect and love their children, it's the very least that any Aunt can do. 


So, yes. It is possible that I will indeed be the best Aunt ever. Or come darn close in trying.