On the Waterfront

It is with sadness that I must report the imminent departure of the Mighty Yasmo (pictured above in a pensive moment) from our shores. An acquaintence of 18 years must now proceed remotely, for the newly graduated Doctor of Chemistry will spend at least the next two years in the Antipodes, with Kerri, the world's most tolerant girlfriend.

From murky small-town beginnings amongst the stevedores of Saldanha, to the decadent company of such illustrious loose affiliations as The Frisky Limpets and Rampant Yasmo and the Homosexuals, he has been aliased variously as Bone, the Love Doctor, Hasmo and Homeyklaws - though it seems his parents refer to him as "Shane", which is apparently his real name. Obviously, as Frisco pointed out to me, there is some irony in exporting someone called "Shane" to Australia - and they already have one too many as it is. We pray for the safety of his accent, and can but hope that he'll get an opportunity to make South Africa proud and punch George Gregan in the nuts.

Perhaps where the Mighty Yasmo's doughty influence will be missed most is amongst the members of the Cape Town Paddlesnappers Dragon Boat Club, whose continuing paramouncy he spearheaded in his roles as captain, coach and stroke over the past eight years. Never have we had a more tenacious and efficient exponent of the sport. Leading by example, he helped bring a technical rigour that has pervaded all the local clubs, and would be an easy choice for South Africa's most valuable paddler.

So with apologies to Wayne Newton (and Ferris Bueller), I here pen a tribute, corrupted specially for the occasion:

Danke Shane, darling, danke Shane
Thank-you for all the joy and pain
A dragon boat
In the starting floats
Was the place we'd meet
Leading seat
Sharp and neat
That was sweet

Danke Shane, darling, danke Shane
Thank-you for sessions in the rain
I can see
Lightning on the sea
Oil, bilge and brine
Intertwine
For all time
That was fine

Danke Shane, darling, danke Shane
Save those pies, darling, don't explain
I recall
Powering up in Fall
How we raced the best
Dropped the rest
I confess
But that's not all

Danke Shane, darling, danke Shane
Thank-you for coaching me again
Though we stroke
On our separate ways
Still the rhythm stays
For always
My heart says
Danke Shane
Auf Wiedersehn
Danke Shane

----

And when you one day wend your way home, we'll fire it up again and give them all lengths. Burning in three...

The Tale of Benjamin Bunny

My friend Benjamin, core member of the illustrious Tetrahedron (nee Triangle) of Zinthar, is known to many simply as “Bunny”. A question faced by the Tetrahedron at last week's Oblivion Quiz Night involved identifying pictures of famous rabbits, and Bunny was drawing blanks at the image of Peter Rabbit. Turns out he had no idea why he had acquired the nickname, having never heard of Benjamin Bunny from the much-loved Beatrix Potter books. My amazement turned to disbelief upon discovering that I alone amongst the Tetrahedron's esteemed membership could sing the Flopsy Bunnies song. Who were these bozos? No wonder we have yet to win a round…

Anyway, subsequent research revealed some dubious facts about the clog-wearing Benjamin Bunny (the fictional one). I had always considered him to be the stories' Horatio to Peter Rabbit's Hamlet, the Chewbacca to his Han, always ready to rescue him from a pinch, pilot the Millenium Falcon or muster up an appropriate song about a gig and pony - i.e. a noble and stalwart kinda guy. I had completely forgotten that in later books he married his first cousin, Flopsy… Yow. One forgets these books appeared over a century ago. How about those Victorian values? Then again, we're talking about rabbits...

Seems also that Benjamin and Flopsy had six children - the "Flopsy Bunnies" - and that they had a penchant for cabbages. So, Bunny, may your progeny be as numerous and as fond of their vegetables - if perhaps a little more genetically robust.