Outgoing Tourism CEO Justin Mackrory said at his farewell breakfast last Friday that when his Howick buddies heard he was coming down here they warned him that ‘a tub of yoghurt has more culture than the South Coast’.
He was pleasantly surprised to find that NOT true.
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Justin, you did us proud under difficult, often water-less circumstances. Enjoy your semi-retirement and please put the record straight when you get back to the Midlands.
Howick people are no different. In fact, there is even a meme doing the rounds that might well have originated from there: “I hope people think my child has a slight British accent because she’s so cultured and not because she has basically been raised by Peppa Pig.”
There’s no turning back now, but many a youngster’s ‘bestie’ today is probably some sort of smart device or computer.
As you read this, brain thieves at giant computer gaming companies are thinking of new ways to make you pay so your kid can play.
Human friends are just too much hard work… and you can’t switch them on and off at your leisure.
One wonders how many youngsters still play board games like Monopoly, Scrabble, Cluedo, etc?
Doting grandmother, Herald editor Colleen Haggard, was a shining example when she was posted on Facebook this week playing Monopoly with her grandson, but she’s a rare breed.
Even when it comes to chess, the opponent-of-choice is often a computer that doesn’t mind if you cheat.
There’s no longer any need for young minds to invent their own games using things as simple as marbles, sticks or paper.
Grandparents, ask your children and grandchildren if they know what a ‘goon’ is? Or a ‘kleilat’? Or a ‘paper fortune teller’?
Just in case you’ve forgotten:
* A ‘goon’ is a big marble;
* A ‘kleilat’ was a flexible stick that propelled a knob of clay at a friend’s butt at frightening speed and;
* A ‘paper fortune teller’ was a favourite with the girls, a sheet of A4 folded in a certain way, the insides featuring different colours and different predictions like ‘you’re going to kiss a boy’.
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The boys at Grey College in Bloemfontein came up with more macho break-time games like… ‘moer-moer’.
It involved some poor sucker standing alone in a circle drawn in the dust while others gleefully lurked outside, waiting to take one jump and punch him on the arm as hard as possible. If he saw your feet move, you were it.
No wonder it’s a good rugby school.
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