The Tunnel Rats – Stephen Leather (@stephenleather)

This book really hit home for me as the core of it is based around a team of ‘Nam-vets who were stationed in and around the tunnels during the Vietnam war. I’m very fortunate enough to have visited a section of the tunnels in Cu Chi, even crawled through one, so having that as a base (I imagine) really helped me fully understand the extent of what they were going through.

The story follows a series of murders around the world, investigated by British Transport Police initially and followed by FBI, fake-FBI, Thai authorities and more, ending up with a BTP sergeant, a hired assassin, the ‘Nam vets and the killer navigating their way through the tunnels in search of the truth. An awesome book for anyone who loves a good crime thriller.

American Assassin – Vince Flynn (Website)

I’m a big fan of spy books, like Stephen Leather’s “Dan Shepherd” or Barry Eisler’s “John Rain” series’, so when Rich bought me American Assassin for Christmas, I knew it would be a goodie. This is my first “Mitch Rapp” book, which is great, ‘cos American Assassin has been written as a prequel to Vince Flynn’s 11 other books, with one more being launched in a few weeks. Excellent.

Mitch Rapp fans haven’t given it the greatest reviews, but with no history of his antics through the series this was a phenomenal start. It covers his initial draft to becoming an agent, and through his first missions. With a thirst for revenge after terrorists gunned down an airplane with his girlfriend on board, killing bad guys is his first priority, and he’s phenomenal at it. A superb spy book that has started my drive to finish them all. Can’t wait.

The Whipping Boy – Ben Trovato (@btrovato)

Ben Trovato is one mad cat. Smart, funny, crazy, he manages to make you think on a whole new level regarding current affairs, while also shaking your head in disbelief as to how he actually got to that conclusion. I think it may have to do with the drinking, or perhaps a few very hefty drags of fine cannabis, as he takes you on several journeys through articles he wrote for the Sunday Times (which brought back some great memories of ridiculous happenings in our lovely little country) and bizarre letters of employment to random organisations.

It’s a particularly easy read, as each letter or article is short and punchy enough to get the message across with ease, simplicity and big kick to whoever’s balls he’s targeting (Helen Zille’s included). I thoroughly enjoyed it, even though I felt a little dirty after reading it. I do, however, wish I knew how he came up with some of the content he creates. He’s one smart mo’fo’.

Empire – Brendan Jack (@brendanjack)

“Empire: How to Succeed with Nothing but Passion, Great Ideas and a Wealthy Family” is, as you can imagine, a hilarious tongue-in-cheek review from a spoilt rich kid’s perspective of making it big in life. I filed it under “Business” on my Kindle because (and I was as surprised as you may be) there were honestly some great lessons in it that made me think. I know, crazy.

I’ve always enjoyed Brendan’s humour, and it’s followed through with a tornado in Empire. If Richard Branson, Bono, The Queen and Barack Obama all shared a god-child, Lucien Dunlop Fantasia would be him. Able to buy anything (and I mean anything) at a whim, or brunching with celebrities you’ve forgotten about (but are still super famous), mixed with a penchant for hover boards and scented reading pillows, he’s done it. Lucien goes through life learning lessons from investing in ridiculous businesses to spending time in jail to drug-binges beyond compare, finally ending up in the great world of advertising, successfully selling denim fridge jackets, dildo alarm clocks and Ouma rusks. Okay I lied about the rusks, but I’m sure he had a hand in that too.

An absolutely hilarious and engaging book about the utmost extreme edge of where life could be, with a few great gems hidden inside. My favourite: Water always picks the shortest route to flow downhill. Water may be lazy, but it’s also powerful. Find this balance.

Overall, a fantastic holiday spent working my way through four phenomenal books. If you think like me, act like me and like the things I like, you’ll love all of them.

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.

I’ll start by saying that the whole experience overall was phenomenal. We were treated like gold, spoiled in every way possible and won’t forget it. Ever. Thanks to Visa for making it such a rad experience.

But, the reason for this post, however, is to explain what happened just 30 minutes into our flight from Johannesburg to Singapore (our connecting flight to Beijing).

Once the seatbelt signs had been switched off, Sam reclined her chair (as you do) to get comfy and read her book. Not long after that, the guy sitting behind her started to kick the back of her chair. She turned to him with that ‘Please stop kicking the chair’ look, and he stopped, for a minute. Then he started kicking it harder, so much so that it started to annoy me in the next chair. After a monster kick Sam turns around and says ‘Why are you kicking my chair?’ And this is how the convo went:

Guy: I have nowhere to put my legs.

Sam: So just ask me to put my seat up a little. Don’t be so rude.

Guy: Well, there’s no space for my legs.

Sam lifts her seat.

Five minutes later…

Guy (to me): Sorry, please can you lift your seat? My wife has no space for her legs.

Me: Sure, no problem. What you could try do is cross your legs so that they fit snug underneath the chair in front of you. That’s what I do.

Wife: Well I can’t because I get clots in legs, so just have a bit of consideration and leave it alone okay?

Me: Well, consideration works both ways. If I want to have my seat…

Guy (interrupts me): Hey just listen here…

Wife (interrupts him, pointing her finger at me): I’m twice your age so just shut up!

Me (my voice raised): Hey lady, don’t you ever speak to anyone like that ever again, who the hell do…

Guy (interrupts me): Listen my friend don’t speak to my wife like that.

Me (still raised voice): Well she shouldn’t speak to people she doesn’t know like that!

They both wave me off. Meanwhile, Sam has left to find a stewardess to find us other seats. I turn around to speak to them again.

Me: Listen, we have to spend another ten hours on this plane together, why don’t we all just calm down and everyone can be happy.

Guy: Ja fine.

Sam gets back with a stewardess. Relays the saga a little louder than needed, stewardess whispers she’ll get us to another area of the plane.

The end result of the argument: We got seats right in front of the plane, with plenty of leg room. Awesome.

Now, although the new seats were much better than our originals, the journey there was not much fun. I hate fighting with people, especially people I don’t know, and especially over something as juvenile as kicking the back of a seat.

What we later realised is that this couple was part of a bigger group. They were with the guy who mocked the oriental stewardess when she asked him, in broken English, where his seat is so she could help him get there. They were with the other guys who walked around the plane, when most people were sleeping, finding their friends and talking too loud. They were also with the guy who, when was told he can’t have another whiskey and soda (his speech and eyes told me he’d had his fair share) because breakfast was about to be served, told the stewardess that she’s not his mother, and she should get him another drink.

So after realising they were all part of a group, Sam and I set out trying to find out who they were with. After hearing the company name a few times in drunken conversation, I confirmed it when we landed.

Me: So are you guys on a business trip together?

Guy (senior-looking, and very sober): Ja I’m taking my guys to the Olympics.

Me: Just fun or incentive?

Guy: These are the top sales guys at Discovery.

What? Top sales? Sales where you actually speak to someone, make them believe your product is worth the money and get them to sign up?

Ok. So none of these guys actually sold me anything, but their behaviour was so shocking that I’m reconsidering my account. And these are the top guys? I’m horrified.

My overall learnings from the whole event:

1. People who kick chairs obviously don’t fly much.

2. Don’t offer people advice while flying. They feel bad that they know less than you and then start an argument.

3. People who kick chairs and start arguments are of significant importance, because if they were someone special or senior, they would have handled the situation with a lot more discipline and common sense.

4. When someone tells you they’re twice your age, and then tells you to ‘shut up’, just remember physical age is very different to mental age. Only a six-year-old tells you to ‘shut up’ when having an argument.

5. There are hundreds of other people sitting on the same plane with exactly the same leg room. If they can do it, so can you. If it’s that terrible, or you clot, fly business class next time, cheapo.

6. People that drink all night on an aeroplane and are extremely rude to stewardesses, are arseholes.

7. Discovery’s top sales team has a bunch of bad apples. I think they need to re-look who they’re paying to kill their brand with their rudeness.

8. No matter what you do, where you are, people will write about you if you do something silly.

* Update: Lee (the senior guy) phoned and said he felt really bad about what happened. He had no idea that it occurred until someone referred him to this post. Lee, thanks very much, I wasn’t looking for an apology, just to let everyone know what can happen on trips and be mindful in the future, but it’s really nice to know that some people still care. You rock.

* Update 2: The response from Discovery has been outstanding. Feedback after speaking to their guys, addressing something like this with the utmost importance. Again, I’m really chuffed that they’ve investigated into it to hopefully keep things like representing your company and brand top of mind when in the public arena.

Well done guys. If this helps your business, and any other business after reading about what can happen, we’re all winners. Group hug!

Better get some good listening music for the months to come, traffic’s gonna get worse!

From The Star:

“Road-widening will be intensifying on the N1 highway, between the Rivonia and the 14th Avenue exits, for the next few weeks.”

“Traffic is going to be a nightmare when all these projects are in full swing, but I am very excited when I think of the end result. When these major infrastructure upgrades are completed at the end of 2010, Joburg will have taken huge strides towards becoming a truly world-class city.

So think of the benefits when you are stuck in a traffic jam in the coming months, and please, let’s all be patient and courteous.”

Enjoy.

True story.

They will find you a hotel anywhere, yes, anywhere. Except of course if you want to go to Africa.

That doesn’t count…!