Karoo Phone Booth

The story of the Mojave Phone Booth (see previous post or just Google the term) is fascinating, in the way that pointless things sometimes are. There must be a similar remote public phone somwhere in South Africa that one could get the number for and have no end of interesting people answer. Somewhere in the Karoo perhaps? But on second thoughts why does one even need the phone to be in a remote area? Perhaps a phone booth at a taxi rank? Like the one in the picture +27 11 885 3434 (if the little chap managed to put the phone back on the hook.

Mojave Phone Booth

I was thinking about Scarlett and remembering that I once thought that Annabeth Gish in the same vein (I am probably one of very few here). I think her role in Mystic Pizza reminded me of someone. She then disappeared from the mainstream radar, although there were some good TV parts in West Wing, X-Files. Now I see that she has just completed what seems to be an interesting film called Mojave Phone Booth that is based on an actual phone booth(which accepted incoming calls) isolated in the Mojave Desert which gained an online following. Callers from many countries dialed in to see who would answer (often people who hiked to the spot). Looks like it could be an interesting story and curious to see how kind the years have been to Ms Gish.

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At least for once the Sharks aren't the brunt of this one!
It's a comforting feeling.
Looking forward to the Sharks game versus the Reds this weekend. They are really due a win. Or should I start praying now? Word is that the lanky two-metre tall Australian 2005 U21 captain Ben Mowen, who has recovered from his broken jaw, could make his Super 14 debut from the bench. Always good to see new guys come through.

Direct translations

Had to chuckle. Just received a thank you note from a colleague in my masters course to whom I had sent some information. "Strongs with the research", he concludes. I guess the root sentence in his mind was the Afrikaans: "Sterkte met die navorsing"?  

Meeting the Bishop

The serendipity of life..is a bit like the six degrees of Kevin Bacon. I just bought my second and third Solomon Burke albums yesterday. This one "Soul Alive" recorded in 1981 in Washington, and another best of... It is awesome - this man is the true bishop of soul and is so full of good intentions in a gritty kind of way. "Everybody Needs Somebody to Love" is the theme that runs through (and it was Burke's song long before the Blues Brothers got hold of it).

But now the six degrees bit. I loved the Jon Cusack movie, High Fidelity, and the music in that, rushed out to buy the soundtrack. It has some wonderful Bob Dylan, Elvis Costello's mournful "Shipbuilding" and Stereolab's great tune called "Lo Boob Oscillator"! Then I picked up the original Nick Hornby novel, which unlike the US based film is set in the UK and has a completely different 'soundtrack'(if a book could have such a thing). Anyway to cut a potentially long story short the book refers to an all time top ten of songs which is topped by Solomon Burke's "Got to get you off of my mind" which I had heard neither the artist or song. OK that's only about 4 degrees of separation but that is how I got to meet the bishop.

The most delightful people you will ever meet in your life

They are a bit sentimental but these lines from the movie "Lost in Translation"  (Bill Murray / Scarlett Johanssen) strike a sharp chord with me..and I often share them with mates who are about to have their first..
Bob: It gets a whole lot more complicated when you have kids.
Charlotte: It's scary.
Bob: The most terrifying day of your life is the day the first one is born.
Charlotte: Nobody ever tells you that.
Bob: Your life, as you know it ... is gone. Never to return. But they learn how to walk, and they learn how to talk ... and you want to be with them. And they turn out to be the most delightful people you will ever meet in your life.

The South African property market has gone moggy..

It's official. I am now convinced that this market has gone absolutely moggy. Since selling up in Cape Town, bye-bye sea view, bye-bye million knots per hour south-easter, we, the good mrs & I, have been scouring the wad of newsprint that arrives with each Saturday Star. For nearly 5 months we have been looking for a new house, and hard, and with no success. Nothing extravagant: 3 beds, double garage, bit of garden and maybe a bit of character and a stoep to enjoy the odd Hansa. We've wasted countless Sunday afternoons trailing from showhouse to showhouse from Parkhurst to Jukskei Park. We've nearly got divorced over this house hunting thing as we both absolutely hate renting. Especially in the FortKnox grey walled cluster thingy we are currently staying in (remember the sea view damn it!).

Finally this weekend we saw the ultimate dive in the least trendy of suburbs, Bordeaux. We were nearly ill on entering this place owned by a pair of cat breeders, the house encaged in wire mesh and home to at least 20 rare cat breeds and in dire need of a serious overhaul if not demolition. It struck me that demolition might be the only way to get rid of the stench of cat urine. Anyway after a night's sleep we decided it was actually worth a second look, and that being aware that we are a rare couple that could visualise something decent through the mist of catpiss, we should perhaps consider a lowball offer. A phone call to the agent, however, put paid to this. They received 2 offers on showday, one for full asking price and one for even more. That is it! There is now no way that I am buying a property at the apex of this market. When all these thousands of cloned toytown houses in the North all come onto the market this market is going to dive. I'm leaving my cash in the bank or maybe in a gold ETF, and will take the risk of marital tension that this brings.