Devastating The Obvious

• a labour loved (lived)

  Posted: May 13, 2008, 4:21 pm by dobvious

  
  

  The toaster has started . He calls out his name and asks them to put their hands together . There is a warm applause from the crowd . We ready our  vocal boxes as we  wait for him to emerge . Pam is a little bit nervous ,she has been on the road before but never before a large crowd than the one on show tonight .We tell her of ways to kill the nerves. Stories from legends  like Sonny’s wife .Who was rumored to be traveling with a handful of studs  in her closet - each well hung and purposed for one thing only , while the rest of the band was taking water during the break it was said she was busy fine tuning her vocal chords and practicing notes in the form of wails and moans that could only be a result of a form of punishment  too crude to be documented here . The key to a successful show she said lay in the girth alone . So there was no guessing what happened to the studs if the crowd ever booed .

  He even has a tradition close to hers - Sue says as she adjusts her wig - but unlike Sonny’s wife - the one who reinvented herself  with a catchy dance tune about beliefs love and life - he does not carry with him two well hung studs and engage himself in an adulterous romp but instead he chooses to partake in the  freshest harvest from Onyi’s farm . You can try it perhaps she says to Pam - it could just be what will make you  tackle  the Handle’s Messiah well when it reaches that troublesome F sharp minor before the  first quaver .   Pam frowns and shakes her head - no thank you she says - let me stick to the honey and lime juice .

  Tonight the potent smell reeks from the trailer with harmonious intent . Sue smiles and says it reminds her of  the days with the Roots . I have never bothered to ask her why she broke the  ties , it had been said that there was a rift between her and the manager’s daughter but upon confrontation she always stated that she had always longed for a creativity break and that she had found it with us .

  Pam taps on the door and he taps back - a second - he says as he emerges draped in the smoke - Sue takes the spill off his hands and  does her routine magic - blowing a halo like smoke after a deep lungful that finds itself atop my head . They all laugh . So what now - you are a saint ? he asks - and just how did you manage to switch so fast from priesthood .  The temporary celibacy vow I take while on the road makes them call me the priest . I say - the workings of the lord are all so ever to be held in awe .

  An amen to that - Pam states as we hear the toaster up the noises -  the crowd is now ready - we hear Ben’s  gentle strums on the drum and Dan’s flirtation on rhythm . The bass is laid next to the microphone  at the center of the stage , eagerly awaiting its weed smoking wizard to massage his usual magic onto it .  It’s time he says  as he leads the way - Sue makes the sign of the cross , Pam closes her eyes tightly - albeit in a prayer to her almighty and I groan loudly -don’t ask why -  it has always worked for me . We step into the momentus applause  . In the drome there are no echoes - a real test in the prowess of vocal abilities  that would even make  the highly acclaimed and best selling shiver in their tracks .

  We take our three positions like we normally do , as his stretches his hands to play . The resonant flick  from the guitar says it all . The night is just about to begin .

  –

  from a long working piece - backup ! -backstage memoirs

• the collect ( incomplete )

  Posted: May 6, 2008, 12:52 pm by dobvious

  
  

  Kirangi states with arrogance – I am 43 years on Monday .  My daughter turned 16 a few months ago so by all means I am nowhere in your confederacy . We laugh . We have gotten used  to his allegories . He compares his conquests in terms of football leagues – relegating us to the confines of the  local mess  while perching  himself atop the European elite – undecided he places himself in the English and Spanish one alternatively as he sees fit – or  does it depend on the  free to air match that  was screened last night .

  Today is no different he takes  the same turn and reflects on his life  through a more secure and albeit grainier  and brazen approach . Beaming with pride he starts again on how he made his riches and we have no choice but to listen to the old man brag .

  Millicent  says that were we to be taking notes then the  greatest story of our dear landlord would be different with each telling .Perhaps we should fault his oral literature teacher – whoever she was for the dude has simply no style . She gives her pity to the children for  having to be content with this type of crap- during bedtime , she calls it the makings of and the birth of an awful generation of story tellers  . If bad luck were to wipe his achievements from the earth then his children will only be left with the pathetic tradition of storytelling and a host of heart diseases - as the greatest inheritance from their folks .

  Apart from the sixteen year old – there is a  ten , four and 1.5 year old . The last he never forgets to label as the hypertension giver. He had this way of having to mix good and bad with almost equal reprieve – a gift(hereafter called the gene ) .He could  tell you the world  of a thing then in the same finishing breathe drape the thing with an equal amount of sneer leaving you to wonder whether its good or bad .Take the case of  the poor soul has ever since his birth been christened with the name of  the saint for hopeless cases  was not enough – the boy had to grow with the tag of being the hypertension giver . He could not just get over the whole  theatrics at the delivery room . First  there was the cause for the Lamaze sessions  then a sudden stop when they saw the digital meter reading 230/110 . Sirens and red light filling the hospital – was it Armageddon – no it was just the beginning of the  cesarean –  and a huge dent in his cash reserves  – He just did not understand why the push could not work – Greedy doctors .Or just lazy midwives .He concluded

  .

  On a sunny day he would later recollect of the decisions to  give him the name of the saint . A long story that in one part had a novena and a brief appearance of the taxman and the briefcase .
  If the time loop theory was ever true or the freeze antics of Adrian Lester and his team of grifters real then this would be the opportune time to reveal how the man made his money . No low blows just the plain truth. Some notes to pass to his biographer should he ever wish to document the story of his life . In what time line – well you be the judge – any now ,alternate , or future . The end game was the same – he made his money and he made it good . The Kenyan had done well .
  A dominant mark in any  version would the Mitsubishi branded in the Gauteng  plates . With pride it  leaves  you with no doubt as who the owner is – KIRANGI 1 . The embassy has no details of him ever being there . In fact the consulate in Jo’burg  claims that it is taken aback when they see him on Newsline recounting his glory days . He must have used Rwandan papers since the name has a Rwandan feel to it says the consulate  in the interview . We normally are very keen to follow on  our citizens  and I can affirm that he has never been on our  records  .Moving on . The Lancer .  Contrary to the legend that fast taking foot in the village paths . That he had paid prime shilling to have them maintained there was apparently a  figure that he was yet to clear – though this was largely kept under wraps – or   did he have something we did not know ?

  After weeks on end  and awful pronunciations of his name by the seemingly angry  inhabitants of Gauteng who could just not fathom  the obsession  the closest we had was the Mormon connection . There was English, Xhosa(or whatever click clack tongue from the south)  , interpretations , translations and  yes you guessed it money and the car . How the mix up was done was anyone’s ball game – after all how many have you had would go back to the chef and asked him how he prepped the lasagna after a tummy full .

  Then comes the daughter – like every father he holds  true  the fact that she  is a virgin and will  uphold the virginity ( hereafter referred to as the status) – till the day he would give her away . Complete with two chariots  and a plethora of those things associated with weddings . After all – what evil could exist in her school – being named after the mother of god herself ( full of grace and sign of the cross  ) .

  While rising to the top of her class  and  influencing the village girls interest in the equestrian sports something which the peace corps workers  were unable to do - she has been equally leaving a  juicy trail  that would serve as a nice arc in any family based drama which due to contractual issues cannot kill off any more characters . It can be argued that the gene is in play here  – In hushed tones  her school mates whisper  on what will happen come the night   and over at Anita’s there rages a debate on whether she was right to give her the object .  In her   defense Anita reasserts    that she is not and has never been the moral authority in the village – she is in it for the money and what more the kid is old enough – don’t tell me you are buying the 16 line too  - . Meanwhile after the mother superior finishes her daily rounds and  blesses every bed and  dims the lights on her way out  . She ( the daughter ) brings it out . The other girls   gather around in the dark yet they see – it glows – she says, and there it begins,-the assault on the status.

  He snaps the brief foray into reality immediately I finish counting the brown notes – ten for the month and the two I carried over from the last – Thank you for your understanding I say to him as his hand outstretches itself ready for the receipt. This coincides with the end of his stories. See you next time - he says - as he immediately finds the door knob ready to ease  out. We bid him farewell.

  Millicent remarks on how strange a character the man is – I can’t agree more – next time give him money at the door. And why would I do that I ask her –anything I should know about .Lets just say that the happenings of Arlington Road  should be a lesson for all .

Blah blah blah

Fish cakes

Alas a fish cake.

Yet more fish cakes

Guess what ... yeah ... fish cakes.

The end of the fish cakes