Taken at Woolworths in Rosebank, Johannesburg - February 2019.
It was not spelt right
Look at the picture above and have you
noticed something? This is a regular conversation I have with Brian when he
comments about my ability to see things others do not see. In my own view, I am
left quite surprised it is not that obvious.
I cannot tell how it is that I see
things in patterns, especially when it comes to words, there is an expected
order and when things are seemingly not in that order, I notice. That is not to
say I do not commit the same mistakes. What I have written and what I perceive
is there could be two different things. It comes with the territory.
However, the number of times I have
heard people say, “It’s only you that would see that.”, would suggest there is
something, a gift or some irregularity that I possess demonstrated in these
observations I cannot seem to keep to myself.
Sensory observations out of pattern
It was only two Sundays ago when in
our church Sung Eucharist pamphlet where the credits for the hymns were
written, the year of birth and death of one of the credited showed he had lived
for 165 years. Who reads that? Well, I do and I noticed before I showed it to
the dean after the service.
Yet, it is not just patterns in words,
I sometimes hear sounds out of place even if my hearing is not that keen and
for someone who has a lazy eye, the keenness of my vision along with the
inability to use stereo vision to judge distance and speed is quite
interesting. It just seems anything that is out of place jumps out to me.
I sometimes wonder if I should ignore
these things, then, these observations can make for interesting documentation
or conversation. I love the sight of the unusual, the irregular, the strange,
the abnormal, the distinct, or maybe, the invisible to others. Somewhere on
that spectrum of autism, the strange is just quite normal. It is the way we see
our world.
Did you see it?
If you did not see what was strange
about the picture above, Brian swears I saw it within a minute of getting to
the restaurant and trying to place an order. My Instagram post about it appears
below:
We live by rhythms; some
we are entirely in tune with and others we are completely oblivious of. Finding
one’s rhythm in life and endeavour allows us to operate at our best in any
undertaking. It rocks you and puts you into the flow opening you to amazing
experiences.
Each person has rhythms
unique to themselves that could then be rhythmically synchronised with that of
another, the way like minds work together to bring ideas into reality or hearts
are in tune in the expression of love.
I listen out for
rhythms to bring calmness and peace from the nature that surrounds me. The
chirping of birds or the beauty of birdsong, the roar of a river over cataracts
or the bristling as it runs over or around obstacles. People out speaking to
each other or laughing as they catch the bliss of their communities.
We sway in the
comfort of the breeze that blows into our faces as a smile envelopes those
cheeks when a memory slips into our consciousness. We must live by the rhythm
for out of it a story gets told.
One of the useful
things about the Internet has been the opportunity to sort out the mondegreens
that I had learnt over decades. Songs that took my fancy that I tried to learn
by ear but never got the words right because inflexions, accents, tonality, and
variations could change the way words sound apart from the necessities of
musicality.
I notice that a lot
in Yoruba music, the words are tonal, but when put to song can change so much
that if the context is not known the meaning will be completely lost. I will
leave that analysis to linguists.
When Kenny Rogers died early
this year, I remembered some songs that I took the time to playback on the
turntable, stopping after a few words as if taking dictation, I thought I had it completely with Lucille.
The refrain of the song is one example of how wrong I was. I think my dad had a
record executive for a friend because he sometimes came home with a clutch of
vinyl albums and that became the framework of my musical reminiscences.
My version
You picked a fine
time to leave me, Lucille,
Before wrong the children crapping with feel, (This seemed to make some sense
to me.)
I've had some bad times, lived through some sad times,
This time you dishearken nor heed, (I really thought dishearken was an antonym
of hearken)
You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille.
You picked a fine
time to leave me, Lucille,
With four hungry children and a crop in the field,
I've had some bad times, lived through some sad times,
But this time your hurting won't heal,
You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille.
Hearing right and
speaking better
There are too many
songs that suffered a mangling from my either my hard of hearing or my trying
to make a sense of what was being sung. Now, if a song sweeps into memory, I do
not assume I know the words, I immediately search for the lyrics and compare
with the total recall, I have, smiling and glad that no one caught me out like
when I did not know how to pronounce bronchitis, yacht, or beau correctly.
What is strange is, I
can remember each person who helped me out with getting those words right. I
would think because I mainly sang to myself rather than to an audience, my
mondegreens were karaoke gold dust.
I may as well shoot
my gun
Earlier today, from
one thing to another, I found myself searching for Ray Parker Jr. one of
his songs that caught my ear, I heard on the cassette tape recorder and
player of my neighbour. Let’s Get Off from his album, The
Other Woman, sounded like Let’s Get On, I put it down to the quality of the
recording.
Reading through the
lyrics today, all he had to say was Parental Guidance steamy windows stuff. How
was I to know? Yet, if you do have a lover, you probably and definitely want to
do everything there and more. To say I have been promised more than a night of
passion would be to put a finer point on a suggestion not too polite.
Poor teenaged Tevin Campbell whose
amazing voice gave life to words of straight alluring whilst having an
uncertain disposition. Not that we care anymore, the love songs lose their
gender specificity whether babe, woman, man, lady, lover, and honey, whoever
you squeeze is deserving of the songs you want to share. Ours is My Funny Valentine,
someone does shed tears to it. [Tevin Campbell – Can We Talk
– YouTube] [Anita
Baker – My Funny Valentine – YouTube]
[]
Let’s Get Off, Ray Parker Jr.
(Courtesy of AllTheLyrics)
Don't know, what's
come over me.
Since we met, I've had this fantasy.
Of you on the backseat screamin' don't stop.
Just before the good part, I wake up.
Oh honey - to dream
just ain't enough
Gotta have the real stuff.
C'mon baby - we can rock 'n roll each other crazy.
Give it to me, nice and slow
All of it, make me beg for more.
We love each other, so it can't be wrong.
Let me have it all night long.
If you feel the way
that I do then let's get off.
If you want it bad as I do let's get off.
Sittin' at, my TV set
Watchin' dirty movies, and diggin' it.
Lookin' at the folks behind the green door.
Only make me want you more.
Oh, I wish that you
would stop playin' games.
Can't put out this flame.
Hotsuff.
Oh, you got me burnin' up.
Give it to me, nice
and slow
All of it, make me beg for more.
We love each other, so it can't be wrong.
Let me have it all night long.
If you feel the way
that I do then let's get off.
If you want it bad as I do let's get off.
Ever since, I was a
little boy.
Always liked to play "ridin' cowboys"
All you gotta do is holler "giddy up"
Cause I can take it, no matter how rough
Bang bang - I may as
well shoot my gun.
Cause that's how the West is won.
Hey you! I mountin' up for round two.
Give it to me, nice
and slow
All of it, make me beg for more.
We love each other, so it can't be wrong.
Let me have it all night long.
Get up, just me and
you.
Come on let's get off.
If you want it bad as I do, let's groove.
Come on let's get off.
Please don't make me
stop. No baby,
Till you make me bop.
Just warmin' up - I don't wanna stop.
Till you make me bop.
Oh! - me and you.
Come on let's get off.
Let's groove.
Come on let's get off.
I have not accepted
the fact that I probably suffer from insomnia even though some close friends
have observed my erratic sleeping patterns.
My pill time is
usually in the 2-hour window between 23:00 hours and 01:00 hours, suggesting I
am awake until about 02:00 hours in the morning.
Once I am in bed, I
polish off a few tweets, sometimes I get into a scrap many will consider rank floccinaucinihilipilification,
but that is part of making light of a long day.
Sounds for bounds
Some music, a
teaching, or audio lectures become the background sound of my descent into
slumber that rarely stretches beyond 3 hours, if I do not wake up at least once
in that period.
However, I have
learnt to sleep with no background sounds and eliminated the fear of my mind
wandering too far for me to control; the nightmares that feast on the agitated
seeds of my imagination.
Lights, I still need, and that story is longer than I have time to tell or write about. I have somewhat found a way to sleep short, but rest well, even if I could do with a lot more sleep.
After my second
short session of sleep that brought the dawning of the day, I said a little
prayer and rolled over to interact with my social media community.
Derma arachnida
I felt a tingling itch asking
for a scratch on my arm. And there, between the rational that saw a spider and
the split second of the reflex of a flailed arm of its disappearance onto the camouflaged
protection of the carpet; I realised I did not have enough information to ask
for an antidote if I had been stung by the spider.
I guess that
sometimes defines how we react to circumstances. The information we have
acquired in the split second that requires the patience of another few seconds
to make rational decisions based on getting better informed is lost to reflex
and reaction that you are left none the wiser about the experience.
Surely, my spider
moment is no exercise in floccinaucinihilipilification, is it?
It is not so much about being a control freak but there is need for some sort of control when I sleep. I dream very vivid dreams and usually remember the setting and context of those dreams.
Times are after waking up I try to see if there is anything to learn from those dreams and make appropriate adjustments to accommodate those lessons.
Another peculiarity is I cannot sleep without some accompanying sound, some classical music, the gospels read in the background, my television on at a news channel – I need the boundaries of external sound to keep my dreams from running away from me.
Sounds of light
In fact, if the night is still and quiet, I cannot sleep, my mind becomes a radio telescope searching out for the presence of life and sound in some nether or outward place, by which time one is primed to be startled, scared and beginning to lose ones sanity.
The vagaries of modern life has turned us into freaks which for me includes the need to have some white light on when sleeping – why I wake within 5 minutes of lights going out when asleep just amazes me, maybe it is something to do with the amounts of light shone in the eyes of pre-term babies at birth.
Snapping for justice
Anyway, I dreamt last night, I walked out onto balcony that had a number of dream-recognised relations when looking into the courtyard there was this familiar old lady waving around a pole as if to fend off unruly kids.
Then four hoodlums approached her to rough her up, I shouted from the balcony to dissuade them but they did not relent, there was nothing I could do from that setting as I asked for a camera for at least record the event for a consequent police investigation.
I did get a camera and took quite a few good photographs, at one time, it appeared all the four hoodlums were posing for me and I got very good shots of their faces.
When they realised they were being photographed, they ran off, however, I cannot say what became of the lady afterwards, it is not clear if anyone ran to her aid or helped her afterwards.
Unhelpful help
What annoyed me on review was that everyone was in praise of my presence of mind to ask for a camera to take pictures and as I went back into the building, someone offered to get the pictures off the camera for analysis and so on, I neither saw picture nor camera after that.
Strangely, in one of the many twists and turns that my dreams have, the camera happened to belong to the lady, she had left it when she went for her walk and in some way the name she had was quite familiar.
On reviewing the dream I realised I should have fully supervised the handling of the pictures, ensured if I could that I backed up the material and got the evidence to the police as soon as possible.
Between ideas and effective action
Much as I could record the horrible event for the purposes of bringing justice to those hoodlums, I was surprised that I had not seen to having someone tend to the lady, we were all enamoured by the singular act of someone taking pictures when a lady had been roughed up.
What I take away from this is how to handle critical information on which justice and fairness might rely, I should not give it up easily if it is not going to the relevant authorities no matter how familiar I am with the person who requests it and I should be careful about unsolicited help which might end up depriving me of important work.
I should also have the presence of mind to address the humanity and humanitarian issues I find myself in and see the matters through to satisfactory conclusions so that I do not find myself aching about why I did my dreams did not end perfectly.
