The Killers tickets “sold out”

Golden Circle tickets for The Killers’ Jo’burg concert at the Coca-Cola Dome on Friday 4th December have sold out – barely two hours after officially going on sale. Recession? What recession?
However, at the time of writing, Golden Circle tickets for the Cape Town concert on the 6th at the Val de Vie Polo Estate are still available.

There are many reasons why this dichotomy exists. Perhaps the greater numbers of tickets available for a larger venue, less demand, financial concerns or – most likely –  the fact that most Capetonians haven’t actually got around to heading onto the Computicket website, because it’s Friday, dude and the weekend actually started last night.
Jo’burgers will have been up at 3 to avoid the traffic and, having arrived at work at 7, will have proceeded to buy their tickets immediately before doing that filing, writing those reports and sms’ing each other about how great it was to have a thunderstorm last night and did you see the clouds that looked like a spaceship and there was lightning and how summer is almost here with it’s lovelyrain and hail.
These things make them happy, which is not great, because everyone knows that a happy Jo’burger is annoying.

You can tickets via Computicket for both concerts. I notice that Computicket have now officially labeled the Cape Town gig as “Paarl”, which is technically more accurate. The Killers’ official website is sticking with “Cape Town”, though. Probably because Americans don’t even know where South Africa is (there’s a hint in the name, guys), let alone Paarl.

I have mine. I know others who have theirs. You’d surely be silly to miss out.

So Proud

Any parent will tell you that when their child gets to certain milestones in their development – first sleep through the whole night, first steps etc. – it’s big news for the family and brings out jealousy in the parents of others who haven’t quite got there yet. And you want to tell the world.

But equally, the child will only reach each of these milestones once, so it’s important to make sure that you don’t jump the gun. Exactly who are you trying to kid if you think that 9 in the evening to 4 in the morning counts as “all night” or letting go of the coffee table and taking half a stumbling pace forward before falling over* means “walking”? Don’t stress – they’ll get there.

Which brings me to the point of this post, my daughter’s first word. “Mama” and “Dada” don’t count and nor does that-noise-that-sounds-a-bit-like-“apple”-if-you-pretend-that-it-sounds-like-“apple”.  Remember, you’re only fooling yourselves. And that’s why I have been waiting, anticipating what happened this morning so that I can note it down in her baby milestones book and then we can look back together in years to come and say “that was the day you said your first proper word”.

It occurred, for the record, in the kitchen at 7:48 this morning. Packed lunches were under construction for her dad and her brother and it was as I opened the fridge to get out the margarine, that little Kristen walked over, gazed up at the shelves towering in front of her, pointed to the cheese and said, with amazing clarity:


I have to admit that this moment was one of the proudest of my life thus far. I was quite overcome. I rushed out of the kitchen to pass on the good news to Mrs 6000, so fast in fact, that I left the child by the open fridge (I later returned to find her chewing on some bacon).
If I’m completely honest, I was a little disappointed by my wife’s seeming lack of excitement at the momentous occasion. I thought she’d be over the moon, but instead, she just seemed a bit shocked. Perhaps she was overcome by the gravity of the moment as well. I’m sure she’s recovered now and is proudly telling all her colleagues and anyone who’ll listen that her daughter said “Feck!” this morning, just like I am.

I’m going to call my parents in the UK now. So proud.

* Just like Daddy does when he’s drunk.


News just in – I have won $25,000 in an SMS competition!! That’s serious moolah in SA: R200,000 no less. (Well, actually very slightly less, given that we’re running at $1 = R7.91 this morning, but let’s round it up and be happy.) I don’t actually remember entering the competition in question, but that is of limited interest to me or to anyone else given that I have now won it.

You have been drawn at 9:23 and won the check No. 509578!
Call 00239981103 to know the amount and withdraw it.

I called the number, which is based in the Democratic Republic of São Tomé and Príncipe – a Portuguese-speaking island nation in the Gulf of Guinea; a place I have never visited, never mind entered an sms competition in – and the news was good: $25,000 good, according to the wonderfully cordial if rather heavily accented gentleman called Phillipe on the other end of the line.

And now all I need to do is to verify my bank details by sending them a measly $100 and they will pop the $25,000 plus my $100 into my account by return. Apparently, they have been on the receiving end of fraudulent transactions and that’s why this step is necessary. As I said to Phillipe, what is this world coming to when people try to trick each other in this way? Phillipe was momentarily quiet, presumably as he considered the misery that such individuals may cause to their unwitting victims.
It was a bonding moment, I feel, that he too felt my anguish at the evil that men do.

Anyway, I got his bank details and I contacted my bank, asking them to help arrange the $100 transfer to Phillipe. And that’s where things started to go wrong. My bank refused, saying that they were not going to allow me to spend my money on a fishing trip. I got angry – this is my money and where the hell did they get the idea about me going fishing, anyway?
Sure, São Tomé and Príncipe has some wonderful aquatic life and is, in fact, famed for its fantastic seafood, but I have no desire to actually go there in order to partake in a pastime which, in all honesty, leaves me rather cold. My brother would be there like a shot, but then he didn’t win the competition, did he?

I asked to speak with the manager, but the message was just the same. A point-blank refusal. He wouldn’t even call Phillipe and explain his reasoning. So I have written to the head office to complain. Idiots. 
Meanwhile, I have withdrawn R920, which I have now converted into US dollars and I am posting it to Phillipe. I have also photocopied my credit card and sent that along too – so now he has my bank details and the $100. I phoned him and I told him – sometimes a little trust in this world is all that’s required.
He seemed overjoyed – he couldn’t stop laughing.

And I will also be overjoyed when I get my $25,100 in a week or two. Bring on the good times!

The Killers are coming!

As a follow up to our Are The Killers coming? post earlier this month, Big Concerts finally officially confirmed this morning that the concert was to go ahead as we reported, playing an outdoor gig at a beautiful wine estate deep in the picturesque Franschhoek valley and another at a large, poorly-ventilated warehouse next to some ugly mine dumps in Gauteng:

Multi-Award Winning, alternative rock band, The KILLERS, have announced their first ever South African tour, which commences on Friday 4th December 2009 at the Coca-Cola Dome Johannesburg and Sunday 6th December at Val De Vie Estate, Cape Town. The tour is presented by Heineken® and supported by regional radio stations 94.7 Highveld Stereo and 94.5 Kfm.

Honestly, that was the worst kept secret since it was “officially confirmed” that Julius Malema failed his Matric.

Quota photo – and with good reason!

Dinner was nice, although my son wanted me to leave a piece of freshly cooked pasta on his bedside table when I went to switch his light out this evening. I declined, because it would never have stayed there all night and it was smeared with a generous coating of olive oil. Olive oil, much like baby oil,  just never comes out of the sheets, does it?

But, to be honest, it’s gone downhill from there. I have spent the last hour with an accountant, staring at the details of this page. Now, at this point, I should at least explain that the accountant in question was Mrs 6000. And yes, I knew that she was an accountant when I married her, which just shows you how special she must be. As I complained of the latest raping of my payslip by the taxman, her eyes started to sparkle – the things that make normal people come down with a sudden case of narcolepsy make her day. Strange lass.
But even her enthusiasm did little to make a very, very dull subject any less dull. And, when it was over, the verdict was that I openly gave consent for higher percentage relations to take place and my case was thrown out of court with costs. And SARS had been proven right and I turned to the solace of red wine once again.   

And thus, onto that quota photo, which – thanks to my wittering on – now no longer really fits the standard definition, but here it is anyway.


Shot by phone from Campground Road in Rondebosch on the way home yesterday evening, the shadow of Devils Peak visible in the evening sunlight through the smoke of the fires in Fishhoek.
The palm trees framed it nicely, the scaffolding less so.