A day in the life ~ Navigating the Mad Giant

It hadn't started that well.

Saturday coming up for one-ish and we think we'll drop into 1 Fox in downtown jozi and poke our noses about, pick up a pint & pizza and that'd be a nice way to set up the rest of the weekend.

We'd circled around in the drizzly wet heading for a parking spot I knew which was good on busy weekdays and offered free parking if you drink at the Mad Giant.

Only no-one had said anything to the parking jockey and he nicked a twenty off me which annoyed her because CLEARLY there were empty bays outside the lot. And a misty off-on drizzly which didn't improve the mood as we walked past the empty bays down to the entrance. A girl doesn't like her hair getting frizzy before the weekend has kicked off.

So you can't blame Mrs T-Potts because she offered a moment's pause from the wet and if there're two things herself loves its books and flowers. Even if the books were leaning over a bit. It wasn't the books or the flowers that delayed us though ~ Tea pots, Tea sets. and teas, teas, teas everywhere. A quick moment to catch breath and warm fingers and toes and plunge on became a drifty "oh that's nice", "what about this" "I really can't afford ..." (~ wistfully, that one!) and it was a good 20 minutes before we stepped out to head to the Mad Giant and his inhouse brews and tables.

Looking up bits of sky were visible and the light much brighter, even though the clouds had deepened to black and steel. That was a warning sign, should've taken note!

Now, I really like the Mad Giant. Fridays the team'd trail down from the offices and fill the bar and tables with chatter and work-related stories, slag off the bosses and wipe the foam from the mouth as the brew sipped down. By the time we dispersed the stress of the working week'd be dissipated and its all become good.

You don't notice in that atmosphere that really, this is a fine dining place, with fine dining waitrons (hate that word!) and menus. Something that's glaringly obvious when the place is mostly empty and the fine waitrons are amusing themselves ~ well somewhere. Still and all it's a nice place to look at, the high ceiling, the copper vats and pipes, wooden counters and benches contrasting with the fine dining tables.

So by the time we'd done that, and decided the food hall across the way was the answer, those black clouds had closed off the sky and the light outside had dimmed. The sound of hail on a tin roof is very distinctive! and we knew as we stepped out under the afdak that we'd waited just a little too long.

So here we stand under that same afdak and think . . . "just a measly 3 meters or so from the warmth, the smells, the happy chatter in the food hall. Beers & Pizza! just 3 thundering meters away . . . " and then we lean back up against the wall. Soggy underwear and squelchy shoes? somehow just don't go that well with beer & pizza. The gods will be kind. We'll get there soon enough.

and so they were.
and so we did.

And as we sipped the beer and piled into the pizza the thought was also that here's something quite fine about standing under a sturdy tin roof with the hail clattering down, waiting for that moment when you can duck across skipping puddles and torrents and into that warm waiting space. There's nothing quite like beer & pizza to restore the blood-sugar level, is there? Time enough for a little Scientific Research!

Images all (c) Author (all rights reserved) Oct 20, 2018

In the shadows of relationships: “Notafrend” and “Justafrend”

“Notafrend” and “Justafrend”
Such a world of difference between them!
I've been both, and I guess sometimes I returned the compliment.
So picture this in your mind for the moment:
You're walking down the road with him or her, and someone sees you.
Oh, is this your new boyfriend?
"No, no - he's just a friend".
You've just become a "Justafrend".
Someone's not ready to acknowledge the relationship yet, and a small pin prick of hurt might just find its way through. Or maybe they don't even notice that there is this budding relationship, and you wonder momentarily whether they ever will.
Any half decent soapy can spin this scenario out into several seasons :-)
Well in the movies and in the soapies things always work out, don't they?
And sometimes it works its way out in real life too.

What about the other one?
The “Notafrend” situation?
How do you know you're one?
Well actually, it's not that difficult.
Small things tell you, for instance:
You find yourself being bcc’d in e-mails.
(Now, this is not to be confused with a secret romance!
That's a completely different situation ...
Of course you're going to be under the radar there!)
No, this is something different.
You find it in the voice when you're with them and someone phones.
You sense the question being posed, and the answer comes out:
"oh, no one really! Who? ummm"
And as they drift away to somewhere a bit more private you hear the voice saying, somewhat quietly, "oh, no - he's not really a friend, just someone I know".
So there you are. You're a “Notafrend”.

Maybe cultures are clashing,
maybe it doesn't do to know this person better.
Maybe.
Maybe you were close to once, and life has brought you back together again. But he or she doesn't feel comfortable with acknowledging their feelings openly, maybe pride holds them back: the fear of looking foolish. Maybe, maybe you're even little happy to go along with it.
Maybe.
“Notafrendz”: when they're gone and you miss them, you wonder how it might have worked out.
Maybe, you think.
Just Maybe.

all images (c) cyril souchon

Eagles - Hotel California Live - intro to the Hell Freezes over tour

Eagles - Hotel California (Acoustic Live ) by Henry Enciso

The last of my friends who checked in back in the 60's and 70's is approaching that time when he has to check out. His room in the hotel is clean these days, but he has to stay there, and every day is another day keeping it that way. At least he got this far: the first to go used lsd wings from the 20-something-th floor of the Hilbrow Ponte building which was new then and a fable to consumerism, snorting, sniffing, puffing and patches.

This is a very smooth version of the song: acoustical: it had a much harder edge back in the late 70's when it came out. Compare it to the older, edgier, version  which is also live but showcases the great hard guitar solo in its original intent. I have a soft spot for the acoustic version, but its the raw rock of the original that still lights the fire in my belly and the anger behind my eyes.

The light passes, but for some the candle flickers in a bare hotel room in an endless darkness of waiting

Lyrics here for those who want to dwell on them for a while

Cover image from Wikipedia under fair usage