The Journey

The journey to (or from) Agulhas used to take 2 hours and 40 minutes. Every time. Exactly. You could set your watch by it.
Those days are gone now. Yesterday was close on 4 hours as the outrageous slings and arrows of roadworks, accidents and traffic made life about 1 hour and 20 minutes more difficult than it needed to be.

Once down past Napier though, it’s a whole new world. Open roads, open fields, and wildlife galore. Ostriches, including chicks, storks, baboons, grysbok and even a speedy caracal racing across the road in front of us. And the large evening light, bathing everything in watery primrose yellow.

I should have stopped so we could see and share these things (the caracal was long gone though, sorry), but every time, the destination takes precedent over the trip down here. It’s sad, because I think we miss a lot that way, but we either want to get here, or we don’t want to leave here, meaning that we have limited time to get back: stopping is not a favourable option.

Thus, what’s needed is a week here, and a planned slow drive down. Taking 8 hours to get here when you have fewer than 48 hours before you’re due home – ready to resume normal, stressful life – seems ridiculously wasteful. But 8 hours of different experiences to begin a week of relaxation seems to make complete sense.

So now all I need is a week off work. One that I’m not spending elsewhere, doing other exciting things, that is.

Sadly, that’s not happening anytime soon, but hey, we shouldn’t complain about such #FirstWorldProblems, right?

Ableist humour

I was sent this joke by an acquaintance, who is an amputee.

I saw my mate Charlie this morning, he’s only got one arm, bless him.
I shouted, “Where you off to, Charlie?”
He said, “I’m off to change a light bulb.”
Well, I just cracked up – couldn’t stop laughing. “That’s gonna be a bit awkward, innit?”
“Not really,” he said, “I still have the receipt, you insensitive bastard.”

Yes, it’s mildly offensive, I guess, especially in this age of overt political correctness and eggshell tiptoe-age. But then there’s the point that it pokes fun at the assumptions of the apparently ableist joke teller. There’s a lesson in there, I think.

And then add the fact that it was sent from someone who has a similar disability – albeit that he is missing a bit of leg, rather than an arm. Does that make it more acceptable? Is he ‘allowed’ to tell it, but me, not?
It’s an interesting question

I remember once going to the Jongleurs Comedy Club in Oxford. One of the acts that evening was a guy in a wheelchair. He had to be lifted onto the stage. Once there, he began his set with a plethora of jokes about people in wheelchairs. It was initially awkward, and then it was very, very funny. You could almost watch the crowd thinking, “Wow. That’s a bit harsh. But then… hey – if he’s in a wheelchair and he thinks it’s funny, why shouldn’t we laugh at it too?”
And then, suddenly, he told a joke about a blind football team, and it immediately all went very awkward again. But he was completely prepared for it. I recall him using the audience’s discomfort as if he’d just done some sort of social experiment – that it was ok for him to ridicule those with the same disability as him, but that he had seemingly crossed a line when he joked about a different affliction. He was absolutely right in his observations of our reaction.

It speaks volumes to me that it’s those aspects of the evening that I remember, rather than the actual jokes – although I do seem to remember that they were funny and it was an enjoyable night out.

Obviously, I hope that I never lose an arm like Charlie, nor the use of my legs like the comedian. But if I ever did, I’d like to think that I’d somehow still be able to appreciate this sort of humour.

As for the lightbulb joke above – I think it’s very amusing.

I will wait, I will wait for you

And I will wait, I will wait for you…

So sang banjo enthusiasts and all round folk rockers, Mumford and Sons.

Now, I’m no fan of Marcus Mumford and his merry band of men, but they hit the proverbial on the proverbial with this one. As did I in this post, because my Lily drone is now overdue.

This isn’t a surprise to me. They let me know, in a characteristically transparent email [I’ve PDF’d it here] which they sent before Christmas. My Lily is now due sometime in Summer 2016 (the Northern Hemisphere version thereof, of course).

We’re still ironing out logistics for our new shipping timeline. We expect to fulfil all of our pre-orders in the Summer 2016. Details will be shared as soon as they are available. We promise 🙂

The open-ended nature of that “Summer 2016” promise is mildly concerning, but hey, we’ll get there.

What is disappointing is that between the previously promised shipping date and this new one, I’m doing two overseas trips – one a once-in-a-lifetime one, including some prime Lily-playing territory – and I’m rather sad to be missing that opportunity.

Sognefjord_norway1

The crew at Lily continue to stay in touch just about weekly, informing me of latest developments, test results and new staff. I still believe that this is going to happen (although some on Facebook are more dubious) – I just wish it had happened already.

Eskom: Good news?

On fairly regular occasions on this blog, we have taken the pi… we have taken the mickey out of state-owned electricity generating behemoth, Eskom. You can look here for most all of those posts.

But, credit where it is due, it does seem like Brian Molefe has begun some sort of turnaround at the much maligned power utility. There was a very positive – if characteristically honest – press conference this morning, at which these lines were uttered:

We don’t foresee load-shedding for the year unless something goes terribly wrong, but it is still conceivable because we are not out of the woods yet.

Fair enough – and they’ve done well right over summer (the last loadshedding was on 14th September 2015), so who’s to say that it might not continue through winter too – especially with new projects coming online as well:

The successful synchronisation of unit three of the R25bn Ingula hydro pump storage scheme to the grid last week will add 333MW, reducing pressure on the grid and allowing Eskom to undertake its maintenance programme.

Ingula is basically a huge version of the Steenbras pumped-storage scheme, which saved Cape Town from loadshedding on several occasions last winter.
In fact, the future’s so bright, we may have to wear some sort of eye protection:

Mr Molefe said Eskom was working very hard to conclude its construction of the Medupe and Kusile power stations ahead of target. The two power stations and Ingula will add about 11,000MW to the grid on completion of them all in about five years’ time.
On completion, he said, SA would have enough electricity for economic growth and perhaps even a surplus to sell to its neighbours.

A surplus? Blimey.

Of course, there are still uncertainties – like the fact that there’s not ever so much water to run through the Ingula turbines at the moment, and like the vicious circle of the crappy economy caused by the shortage of electricity meaning that Eskom will have to pay more for its loans, meaning that prices will have to go up (again) or less maintenance and building will be possible.

But generally, better – right?

UPDATE: Here’s an alternative view though:

The improved outlook is less about what the state power utility is doing and more to do with an economic slowdown.

OK, that’s not great. But still… no loadshedding, right? #GlassHalfFull