I like driving.

My car is comfortable, I like to blare my music while I’m on the road and use my drumstick pencils on the steering wheel, while people in front, behind or beside me watch in confusion. It’s fun for me.

Last Thursday, however, I decided to abandon my exciting drive to OR Tambo Airport and jump on the much talked about Gautrain from the Sandton station. Every person I’ve spoken to beforehand has said their experience was phenomenal and world-class. In my unprofessional opinion, I think they were all on crack-cocaine.

I parked my car in the parking lot. Easy enough. Walked downstairs and saw two queues facing a wall: One to a window, the other in a zig-zag for the next available automated machine. I joined the zig-zag and eventually found myself standing in front of a big touch-screen with a few slots for cards underneath it. At first glance it seemed like there was way too much going on for such a simple transaction, but I found the ‘Pay by card’ option and went through the process. As my phone beeped with the SMS from the bank to say the money had been taken from my account, and as I eagerly awaited my brand-spanking-new Gautrain card, the touch screen beamed “TRANSACTION FAILED”, and I received nothing. Then the text on the screen changed to “MAINTENANCE IN PROGRESS” and a card slot was pulled from inside the machine to reveal the other side. I called the (out of uniform) helper-lady who was hanging around and asked her to please explain to me why the fuck someone had pulled the card slot thingy from the box while I was busy with a transaction, and she shouted at someone through the hole. Awesome.

So now I’m standing between an automated machine and the teller window, waiting for a card to pop out somewhere. Either one would do, I’m really not fussy.

Nothing.

I was then told to stand in front of the people in the line for the teller and explain my problem. Now, if I was in that line, and some dude jumped in front of me, I’d be pissed. But, I felt it was no fault of my own, and if anyone was gonna make a scene at this very moment, I’d be that guy. The guy who was (now) behind me asked what happened, to which I replied “They fucked up, so now I need a card or my money back.” The (out of uniform) helper lady gave me a look, so I rephrased it to a very sarcastic “I’m sorry, there was a problem with the machine, and she told me to stand here.” Blame-shift: A beautiful thing.

I asked the lady behind the window to just give me a card with my R510 on it and I’d be on my merry way. She said she couldn’t until I filled out a full-page form with all my details, including my bank details. She also said that the money would be returned to my account, and I’d have to pay another R510 to get the loaded card.

What. The. Fuck?

I was running late, and so were the people who were behind in the line that I’ve just joined (and inconvenienced), so I scribbled, purposefully, all my details and had to do the whole buying-a-card transaction again from scratch. By the time I’d reached B9 (the platform where the train would be) I’d missed the train and had to wait a further 18 minutes for the next to arrive. Cellphone reception is also non-existent down there, so don’t think I could get some calls in before I jumped on the train. Also, no benches or vending machines meant no sitting or eating either. Brilliant.
I can guarantee that if I drove to the airport it would have been faster, but more importantly, I would have drummed on my steering wheel while singing along to some of my favourite new tracks and would’ve been cool, calm and very collected by the time I reached the airport. Very much the opposite to how I did feel when I arrived, when I realised I still had to walk across a large part of the airport to get to domestic departures. If I drove, I would’ve had to walk across the bridge joining parking and the terminal. Easy. I have nothing against walking, but if you’re late, it’s a problem. No-one likes to be running through an airport.

Then, when I got back to Jo’burg and took the train back to the Sandton station, I obviously needed to pay for my parking. Now, other parking payment machines expect you to put the card in first, then you pay. I tried to insert my parking card, and it wouldn’t take. You see, to pay for your parking you have to use the SAME machines that you bought the card from. Which means that before I can do anything, I need to tell the machine that I’m paying for my parking. Can it not figure it out for itself?

What makes this system worse is that people ARRIVING and people LEAVING are using the SAME machines. How does that possibly make sense to anyone? It shouldn’t. And that’s why the Gautrain system, to me, is very much flawed.

So you could say that I should just drive. Well, I will. But what’s more important to me is how people who I like, and respect, had the idea that this obviously flawed system is better than the London Underground. It isn’t. It’s shit. Really. See you on the road.

So I was shopping in the Spar earlier and I saw this beut:

That’s African confidence for you, fuck all that medical specialisation bunk, we’re stronger than that in Africa. It’s one size fits all or nothing.

Cure beats prevention, so really, who needs condoms when you have Izifozonke, eh?

Well, that and garlic, of course…!

Thicker sliced bread. I’ll explain.

Just to set the scene: Every morning after gym I devour a can of tuna, 3 boiled eggs and a slice of toast. I buy Albany ‘Best of both’, just to kid myself into believing it is in fact healthier than white bread. Let me live in this delusion. Thanks.

This morning, while cutting my toast into fingers to dip into the soft boiled eggs (yes, I still do that) I noticed that the slice was thicker than usual. I don’t know how I came to that, maybe I have a toast-thickness gift. Anyway, so I have a look at the bag of bread and realise that all the slices are in fact thicker than normal, which leads me to one observation: Sneaky Albanians.

Albany are smart. Here’s why:

- You buy a loaf of bread on size, not slices

- It takes 2 slices to make a sandwich

- Fewer slices in a bag means fewer sandwiches

- You buy more bread to make more sandwiches

Simple.

It reminds me of the story of the cleaning lady at a toothpaste company who suggested to make the hole bigger in order for consumers to use more, which means sell more. Dentists prescribe using a pea-sized amount, but we all know, because the adverts show us, that a line across the brush is where it’s at.

So this all makes me wonder if any other brands, particularly food, are using techniques like this in these hard times. Wouldn’t be surprised. Sneaky fuckers.

Mobile social network The Grid today launches Mobikasi, South Africa’s first geo-tagged documentary for cellphones, which explores youth culture in Soweto. Mobikasi utilises The Grid’s LBS (location-based service) capabilities to tag real-life physical locations and link them to relevant documentary content.

Users can explore Sowetan youth culture on their cellphones from anywhere in South Africa through The Grid’s map interface, or by physically touring the famous township and watching documentary clips on their phones at the locations where they were shot.

The location-based documentary looks at people, music, fashion, social issues and places of interest. Instead of showing the twenty-five minute documentary in a linear fashion from start to finish, Mobikasi splits the content up into twenty-five inserts of one minute each. Each one-minute clip covers a different topic that is relevant to the youth in Soweto and is
geo-tagged to the location where it was shot. This means that viewers can now explore Soweto’s vibrant youth culture by virtually “travelling” through a mobile streetmap of the township and stopping off at various locations to enjoy the one-minute video clips.

The first Mobikasi ‘episode’ features, among others, a street fashion crew called the Smarteez, music producers Hempza and Vikinduku, a popular hair braider named Anna and the reigning Miss Soweto, Rochelle Mothapo. Also featured are Soweto’s premier hangouts Sedibeng, Back Room and the popular Sunday buy-and-braai spot Panyaza.

Vodacom’s Executive Head of Mobile Advertising and Social Media, Rick Joubert, says, “Soweto is a very exciting space. There is always so much happening and it’s often the youth driving this forward.

“We didn’t want to do the usual ‘township tour’ to showcase The Grid’s new LBS technology. We wanted to give people and the rest of the world a glimpse into the future of South Africa and what is hot and happening at street level. What better way than to launch Mobikasi, the world’s first geo-tagged doccie for cellphones?”

How do I view Mobikasi?
Mobikasi can be viewed on The Grid through your cellphone or through The Grid website. To get onto The Grid, simply SMS ‘Mobikasi’ to 33313 (SMS charged at 50c, normal VAS rates apply) or visit wap.thegrid.co.za/mobikasi on your phone.

Once on The Grid, visit the Mobikasi group to watch the documentary clips and explore the excitement of Soweto youth culture.

Here’s the promo:

Mobikasi Promo Video from Cow Africa on Vimeo.

I wouldn’t mind seeing a few more of these around the world, rad way to explore from the comfort of your sofa…

Shame, I didn’t have the heart to tell this guy that he was driving a Corsa.

I overtook him 30-seconds later on principle…!

I gave him five bucks…!

For those of you who missed out, My Coke Fest was insane this year. Partly because yours truly got to MC throughout the day for both Jo’burg and Cape Town.

Coke also gave Marc Kobrin the opportunity to have the best of the fest. He was invited to the Press Con and was treated like a star so he could enjoy every aspect of the day. We had Carlos follow him throughout the day, he and his girlfriend Roxy had an amazing time. Check out his experience here.

We also filmed the My Coke Fest Superfans again this year, watch their day-by-day video diaries here, as well as see all the live edits that were put up on screen.

What a killer day. If you were there and you didn’t hear me announce it, join the Facebook group and add all your awesome photos.

Everyone has their own USP, or should I say, everyone should have a USP, it’s what makes people remember you. I’m lucky, or very smart, to have two, and a third which clenches the deal (imao).

People, I’ve been told, don’t have a super warm fuzzy feeling about me if seen from afar, but when they meet me their perceptions change, ‘cos I’m an alright guy, and they remember that.

Last Thursday I was in the casualties and x-ray wards of Olivedale Clinic. When I went back yesterday, I couldn’t believe how many people asked me how my leg was doing. And, I’m embarrassed to say, some of them I can’t even remember speaking to.

These are people that see a number of different patients every day. Yet, they remembered I was there, and why I was there.

If you’ve never believed USP’s work, there’s plenty more stories where this came from.

And, if you’re ever at a clinic or hospital any time soon, grab a wheelchair and go for a spin, it’s awesome while waiting for your results!

…until his legs gave way and he blew off my windscreen.

True story.

(Ta Rooibos)

Straight from the horses mouth…!

Brad, Richard… welcome to Jo’blog…!

I took this pic a while back. I find tagging to be a funny thing, if it is a nice looking piece that’s not just blatant vandalism, I generally don’t mind it, but those arb single-colour signature tags you see on people’s front walls piss me off big time. That’s not sub-culture, it’s just a mess. I want to find the punks that do it and bitch-slap them.

That’s why I enjoyed this link I saw in Friday’s B3ta newsletter.

Rich woz here…!

Especially for something as arb as this:

What really attracted me were the “I <3 my harp” and “Harpists do it heavenly” bumper stickers.

I actually took the time to take this photo, and post about it, because I don’t know one single person who can play, or knows someone who can play a harp. They’re just not cool.

Surprisingly, Avondale Harp Enterprises is the only harp shop in South Africa.

I wonder why…

According to Game in Cresta Shopping Centre,

kiddies movies include titles like American Pie: The Wedding, Tears of the Sun, Mona Lisa Smile, Sniper 2, Head of State, and many more flicks with age restrictions over 13. They really cater for all sorts, don’t they?

I was 500 meters down the road before I clicked what I’d just seen as I drove past this bit of advertising.

All kinds of irony…!

I would like everyone to let Rich…! know what a wonderful boss he is.

While you suckers are sitting behind steaming, glaring monitors, stressing and complaining, I have taken my allowed birthday half-day, and am now sitting comfortably, prostrate on my patio, drinking glacially cold Amstel Lagers, listening to DMX Hard Rock, blogging, and generally loving this South Africa right now. Look out your window. Do it now. Where would you prefer to be?

Jealous?

It’s rare that us locals get to appreciate the country in the same way that tourists do. I can see why, now, so many sock/sandal wearing Germans and drawling Yanks make our home their holiday destination of choice, and it’s a pity. Today is absolutely beautiful.

More so for me, though, I would like to point out.

Cheers.

People, this is not a drill. There is a new breed of car thief prowling the suburbs. They will take your car while you’re shopping and they’ll park it at least 5 rows from where you left it.

If this happens to you, it is your right, nay, your duty, to shout and scream at the car park attendant saying things like “Where’s my car bro? Why don’t you do your %&@£ job and watch cars instead of helping people with licenses to get out of a parking spot? Are you going to get me a new car?”.

Apologizing profusely in shame (especially when the guy says “don’t worrry, I’m used to it, happens every day.”) when you find your car is not necessary, remember, you’re the victim here.

Calling tracker is also a must…!

A colleague of mine went to the Werner’s Bistro last night, with the chairman if his company. The bistro, in Bedford View is apparently all the rage at the moment.

After a Waldorf salad was delivered with no nuts, they complained to the waitress, who called the manager, Zelda. She grumbled rudely without helping the matter and went off.

A few minutes later Werner himself came out with a tray of salad ingredients and told Craig and co, “Make your own fucking salad!”

So if you don’t get enough abuse during the day, and the basic fundamentals of service bore you, Werner’s may be for you.

It’s like something out of a Monty Python skit…!

The lady and I were doing a bit of shopping on Saturday before D’ave’s birthday party (it’s his birthday today) and felt a bit peckish, so we decided to get a boerie roll from a couple with a skottel braai outside Pick ‘n Pay.

There were two left, but we ordered one to share. The guy looked at me with the worst puppy-dog eyes and said, “Now we only have one left to sell, then we can go home and watch the rugby.” To which I responded, “So you eat it!”

People shouldn’t try (badly) to sell something people don’t want. The little bastard got us in the end though, the inside was raw and we had to go home and cook it longer anyway. Serves me right? Or would I have had two raw boeries? Only he knows…