En Passant: 927 down, four to go

THIS IS THE 927th En Passant column that I have written for the Vryheid Herald. Nine hundred and twenty seven. It has been something like a long journey, and here at 927km, I have only four more kilometres to go, the complete journey being 931km.

That will take me to the last column for the year in December, and then I retire, go on pension, am put out to grass (if not to stud) and for the first time in nearly 19 years will not have to worry about what to write about next week. You have no idea what a relief that will be.

The first column I wrote appeared in the Vryheid Herald on April 25, 1997, and my column has appeared every week since, except, I think, on just four weeks – once when I hit a blank (back in the early days), once when I was sick, and twice when I was away.

Nine hundred and twenty-flippen-seven.

At the same time I have written thousands of articles for the Vryheid Herald, but writing a report has required complete objectivity; writing En Passant has given me an outlet to be subjective, and creative, and as such has been a wonderful outlet.

It all began back in April 1997 when the Truth and Reconciliation Commission was sitting in Vryheid. I’d been at the Herald for less than two months, and the then editor, ol’ Prof van Eetveld, said I should do a story on it and sent me up to Cecil Emmett Hall where the Commission was sitting.

I got back to the office and said to Prof that I did not know how to write it because it was difficult not to have an opinion. He said, OK, the write two articles, one based only on what you saw and heard, and the second on what you think. The second was my first En Passant column.

The name En Passant was Prof’s idea, and not one I would have chosen. Having said that, I don’t know what I would have called it instead, and the range of subjects I have written about give no clue.

I have written columns about everything and anything, which has been a problem only at the end of the years that I have entered them into the Caxton and Sanlam awards competitions. The judges have always said that because I write for a local newspaper, the subjects for my columns have to deal with local issues.

I have disagreed.

Yes, if there is a local issue that is topical I will write about it, but I have repeatedly argued that Vryheid people have opinions about provincial, national and even international issues. I have argued that if I go into the Spoeg & Spittle the chances are that the blokes there are not discussing the Vryheid versus Paulpiet cricket match last weekend, but are talking about the dreadful batting of our cricketers currently in India.

Despite the judges comments, I have managed to win six Caxton Awards for my columns. The last time I won, someone who was once connected to the organising of the awards wrote and congratulated me, and in reply I had to confess that I had cheated. I told her that I hadn’t selected and submitted my best columns, but had selected and submitted those columns that I thought would appeal most to the judges’ criteria regarding localness.

My best columns? I don’t know, it’s very difficult to say, if not impossible. I can write what I think is a very good column, yet when I get to the Spoeg & Spittle the blokes tell me it was a crock of horse manure. Then I can write another which doesn’t really appeal to me, and get more positive feedback from them.

Actually, that’s one of the things, through all the years, that I have not really had in any quantity – feedback. I have sometimes felt that I am writing into a vacuum, so little has been the feedback I have had. Only when I have coincidentally bumped into people, sometimes complete strangers, in shops or at the bank or at some function or another, and they’ve said, Oh I like your column last week, do I get any confirmation that anyone is reading it.

I’m not fishing you understand, but trust me, very, very few people ever, ever have phoned me up after the paper’s come out and said, Nice one, Johnno. In this regard I’d like to pay tribute to the late Duncan Webster (remember him – he worked at the Labour Department?) who’d phone me up three or four times a year, and my old pal Thys le Grange who phones me up maybe twice a year to say he’s particularly enjoyed that week’s column.

Fan mail? Stone me, I haven’t had any fan mail since Paul Kruger was a corporal. In truth, more recently than that. The last letter of appreciation I got was in 2008, and yes, I did keep it – it’s as rare as an old Cape Triangular postage stamp.

I’m not complaining, you understand. Even without fan mail and feedback I have loved writing En Passant, even if it has been like squeezing blood from a stone some weeks. I sometimes read old columns and some still manage to make me smile even though you’re not meant to smile at your own jokes.

And in a way they are a wonderful record of my time here at the Vryheid Herald dealing with, among other things, first days at school, Christmas, porridge, cold and flu, women drivers, clivias, breast-feeding, soup, the dumpsite, World Cups, Charlize Theron, water shortages, kestrels, hip replacements, flying ants, old buildings, crocodiles in Klipfontein Dam and hadeda curry.

It’s been fun.