JOHANNESBURG - Sometimes, when I feel that Seffrica in general but Johannesburg in particular are becoming boring places like Gualala, Brakpan or Ballard, I despair deeply and wonder where I shall eke out the rest of my remaining days.
When I was younger I wondered when the next shtup would be. Now I worry more about in which country that stoep will be - the one where I'll put up my feet on the railing and drink coffee all day like a HC Bosman character or, like WH Auden's one-eyed veteran, do nothing but stare at the sky.
But then, my little fava beans ... but then amazing things happen, things that could only happen in Seffrica, and I cancel my flight on Ethiopian Airlines.
First, there was the matter of Panjo the big, furry pussy.
The tigger allegedly opened the latch of the bakkie cover in which he was being carried and hit the road. Actually, until he was found, I thought that his nutty owners had it all wrong - that Panjo was back at the farm, playing his banjo, and that the owners had actually left without him.
What I loved most was the massive interest Panjo engendered. Clearly the average person on the Parkview (as opposed to the Clapham) omnibus is more interested in a runaway tiger than the possibility of civil servants striking, Gwede Mantashe banging on, Lindiwe Sisulu making a fool of herself relative to the DA, or the ANC trying to knobble the media. Right on, brothers and sisters, I'm with you all the way.
The creature I liked most besides Panjo was the owner's wife, who was called, if my memory serves, Mrs. Goosey Fernandes. She said that no one ought to hit Panjo - though they could carry a big stick - Mrs. F is a sort of latter-day Teddy Roosevelt - and that, provided Panjo was told "No" firmly, he'd obey.
Panjo, you need to know, weighs in at about 130-140kg, which is even heavier than I am, and I'll tell you what: if Panjo were to lie down purring next to you on the bed, he'd leave a bit of a dent. So I have my doubts about Mrs. F's politically correct manner of handling an errant tiger.
As baffling to the rational mind as Mrs. F. have been Dickbrains United - the glorious buffoons who are giving evidence in the trial of Glenn Agliotti - "the convicted drug lord", as the SABC keeps repeating ad nauseam as though it explains anything - for the murder of Brett Kebble, "the mining magnate", as the SABC also keeps repeating.
As I believe Ray Hartley of the Sunday Times said, we are the laughing stock of every self-respecting mafioso world-wide. Okay, so we can run a world cup, but we can't organise a proper hit.
First the car over-heats, then the gun jams (so they have to ask Kebble to come back for them to take, so to speak, a second shot), then, finally, they shoot the fop.
Do you believe all this rubbish? I can tell you that I certainly didn't - until a learned colleague of mine, Jana-Helene by name, pointed out to me that no one could actually make up that kind of crap; that not even a spokesperson for the youth league or a government department could up in their wildest dreams with that sort of stuff ...ergo it must be true.
What I don't understand - and maybe it's still to come - was that, if Clinton Nassif arranged an assisted suicide with the bozos, one in which Kebble clearly cooperated, why is Agliotti the only poor shmuck who's being charged? In fact, why'd the state give indemnity to just about everyone?
Actually it's a new kind of justice process that we have here in Seffrica. Get hold of all suspects in a major crime, give them all indemnity - and bob's your uncle, the matter's sorted.
But I think the most exciting news of the week was what we learnt - first via the grapevine, then more formally - about the fourth estaters who are going to be at the helm of the exciting new publication, the New Age, apparently a daily that is going to kick off sometime in September.
The editor-in-chief is Vuyo Mvoko ...a very nice fellow, but as someone acquainted with him - no names, no pack drill - remarked to me: nice guys seldom produce good newspapers. It's the shits who do that.
Then, coming in as deputy sheriff is none other than Karima Brown, the political editor of Business Day. Now, look, not everyone is happy at Avusa and not everyone necessarily gets on wonderfully with P Bruce, the editor. But, geez, surely Karima knows better than to go to a newspaper that is not even running yet and that has announced from the get-go that it's into sunshine journalism.
Yo! Eish! Vuyo and the fellers could end up in the dock charged with being accessories in Brown's "assisted suicide" as a journalist.
It grows even more frightening when one discovers that the man tipped to be the Opinion Editor is none other than the very opinionated RS Roberts.
Now RS Roberts is of course entitled to his opinions - though it's been quite pleasant for the last few years not having to read them - and there are even some strange folk, such as Essop Pahad, who seem to like Roberts' convoluted maunderings.
But, as I understand the matter, the trouble with our Ron is that he's a trifle, shall we say, abrasive. I read just last week that he spent the whole of the launch party of the New Age calling Mondli Makhanya, the country's highest-earning weekly columnist, a four-letter word that is not usually bruited about among polite people.
Well, one can understand where Suresh is coming from. He had imagined, I think, that his work would earn him at least a chair at a good educational institution - and now Makhanya, or his former newspaper anyway, is coming after Roberts' last remaining stool. This is savage stuff. This is deeply illiberal.
Still, can you imagine our Ron and Karima in the same daily conferences? That's going to last about two weeks before the whole place in Midrand implodes.
It gets better. Apparently Proteas' captain Graeme Smith - fondly known by some as Mrs. Smith - will be handling the sports coverage. And apparently someone called Claudia Henkel will be the lifestyle editor. As Oscar Wilde might have remarked, this is the first I have heard of Ms. Henkel having a connection with journalism. But, hey, I'm not knocking her. I had a look at some snaps of her on the internet - and she can help knock my lifestyle into shape any time she likes.
I asked Vuyo where he was going to print his newspaper, there being, as I understand it, a shortage of presses if one is looking to print throughout the country in pretty hefty volumes. He told me that some agreement had been made with some local press owners - Caxton, Independent in Cape Town, etc - and that from late in 2011, the proprietors, the Gupta brothers, would bring in their own press.
According to what I have culled from various sources, the Guptas have forged an alliance with BCCLwhich is India's biggest and most successful media company. BCCL is the owner of the Times of India (India's largest daily), The Economic Times (India's largest financial daily) and Navbharat Times (the largest Hindi daily in New Delhi and Mumbai). It owns television, radio, magazine and syndication interests.
The New Age is to be published by TNA Media and will be a national daily. At first, it will be only be available in Gauteng, KZN (mainly Durban), and Cape Town. It will be a 32-page narrow broadsheet like the Financial Times and publish six days a week. The initial print order is 170 000 copies, with Allied distributing the new newspaper. The cover price will be R3,50.
In short, the Guptas don't appear to be novices in the business world - but wiser and more powerful men than they have come a cropper when it comes to the publication of words on newsprint. Moreover, some experts have said that it would cost the Guptas R75 million a year, and then some, to run a regional daily.
So why do it? Mvoko says that, as best as he can tell, it's a business decision. Some have said it's a way of buying influence. Others claim, more ominously, that there was a definite quid pro quo - that the Zuma government has offered the Guptas something that could make it worthwhile to take a loss on a newspaper.
Hmm, in this column I am not given to wild claims so I shall say no more for the nonce - other than that waiting to see what is revealed makes it all worthwhile, along with the tiger and the Keystone Klutzes.
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