This column appeared in the August 2015 edition of Fair Lady.
When I was working at the Sunday Times in Johannesburg on Valentine ’s Day, my office looked like a florist shop.
‘No one has the right to have so many admirers!’ adjudicated a reporter spitefully.
It’s a very South African thing to define someone by what they have, what they wear, what they drive and where they live.
I tried to heed the caveat of my yogi raj Mani Finger: Take your work seriously, but not yourself. If you take your possessions seriously what will happen if you lose them.
What will happen if you lose them?
I thought about that when I took the roof off the car and drove home with Talking Heads blaring, the song-snatching wind blowing through my hair. At times like this it was easy to believe that I had hit three gold stars on the fruit machine of life. Did I deserve my good fortune? What gods…
Anaïs Nin once observed that life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.
I have pondered this for some time and am bound to disagree. Life shrinks or expands, at least to me, in proportion to one’s conversations.
Last night I had an acute episode of Conversation Envy.
I can tolerate the drivel most of the time, but deep down I secretly yearn for a philosophical argument and a fresh point of view with the odd bon mot thrown in the mix to keep things fresh.
Living in a blaze of obscurity has its drawbacks. One is the quality of chat to which one is exposed.
Quentin Crisp said that the key to speaking with style is to command of a vocabulary large enough to give you both flexibility and precision in expressing yourself. The more words you have the…
And so, praise the Lord, another Restaurant Week has come to a close. Restaurant Week is the week when most of the regulars stay well away and people we have never seen and may never see again descend on the restaurant. Why not?
A mere $29.95 (tax and gratuity additional) will get you a three-course meal at a restaurant that you would traditionally reserve for a special occasion. Like announcing you want to consciously uncouple. Or propose marriage.
Last week on Monday night a female co-worker – let’s call her Miss Bunny – and I served about 50 people. No hostess, no bus, just the pair of us. (Sounds like a Cole Porter song right there, I know).
Miss Bunny and I hardly needed to speak to each other. We anticipated each other’s…
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