Frazzled, the desperate thoughts of a white man (unedited)

Frazzled, the desperate thoughts of a white man (unedited)

Consequence

While in London for a conference, happens to me occasionally, I came across an article written by Peter Millington (Physicist at the University of Nottingham) on time travel. In all honesty, although my intelligence around this kind of topic might be elementary, I do find it of great interest. In the article reference is made to causality, the law that states effects must always come after causes. Apparently this is a serious theoretical thorn in the side of time-travelling for example, for you to travel back in time and set in motion events that prevent your birth is to put the effect (you) before the cause (your birth). You understand the conundrum! Furthermore, Einstein, the dude with the arresting hairdo, realized that the consequence of the speed of light being absolute is that space and time itself cannot be, meaning that moving clocks must tick slower than stationary clocks. If you struggle to comprehend, all it says is that if you were to fly off at incredible speed in a spaceship and return to earth, less time would pass for you than it would for everyone you left behind. To make it simple, you would have aged more slowly than the rest. However, to come back to causality, what will happen if we were to travel faster than light? Does it mean like the rewind button on a remote, time would run backwards? Apparently not! It takes infinite energy - there is not enough of it - to accelerate a human being to the speed of light. However, let us go science-fiction and assume that it is possible. Still not, apparently, only the law of causality would be violated. What a pity, I would have loved to erase a few unfortunate events in my life. To all the human beings - not only women - that struggle with the concept of aging, forget about those very expensive anti-aging creams and pills, get into your vehicle and start driving, you will change how time ticks for you! Furthermore, Einstein, same dude, also told us that the force of gravity is a consequence of the way mass warps space and time. Again to simplify, the more mass we squeeze into a region of space, the more space time is warped and the slower nearby clocks ticks. We are back at aging slower. Ever wondered why our South African politicians look so young. Well, my theory revolves around vehicles and physical postures. Visit the parking bay during a Parliamentary sitting; you will be surrounded by BMW’s, Mercedes Benzes, Range Rover’s, and many other fast and slick cars. Add to this that most of our beloved politicians over the years and after many visits to a KFC have grown into their own physical space; two important considerations pop up 1) politicians know how to travel fast, blue lights and all; and 2) politicians know how to squeeze a lot of mass into a small space. And there you have it, while moving fast and growing bigger will the clock tick slower and will you age slower. Didn’t need Einstein to work that out!

Birdies and bogeys

Golf (gentlemen only ladies forbidden) as a popular sport, was first played as early as the 1400s, at St Andrews in Scotland. Golf became so popular that King James II in 1457 banned golf. He felt that the young men were playing too much golf instead of practicing their archery - he must have been a very unpopular King! Anyway, the ban was upheld by the following kings of Scotland until 1502, when King James IV became a golfer himself and removed the ban - prattle about favoritism! St Andrews better known as the “Old Course” was founded in 1754 as the Society of St Andrews Golfers. In 1897, the Society codified the rules of golf with men-only and no women allowed membership policy - talk about discrimination! Apparently the “Old Course” was pivotal to the development of how golf is played today. A good example is the creation of the standard of 18 holes. The course was originally played over 22 holes. The members would play the same hole going out and in with the exception of the 11th and 22nd holes. Around 1863 did the members decide that the first four and last four holes on the course were too short and should be combined into four holes (two in and two out) resulting in the standard of 18 holes known and played today. I believe that to be a good initiative considering the plus side of reaching the 19th hole earlier. For those that didn’t know, the 19th hole is where especially social golfers, can manacles their frustration levels with a few cold ones. In simplistic language, it’s the hole where you play with alcoholic beverages and not balls. However, on the negative side, it can increase spouse frustration levels resulting in you sharing a bed with Fluffy - not that Fluffy would mind! Golf is a simple but remarkable game to play. It revolves around golf clubs, golf balls and holes and not to mention the clubhouse or rather the 19th hole. A hole includes tee boxes, fairways, sand traps, water hazards, roughs and greens - the 19th hole is the only hole that has a spouse hazard! The idea is to play each hole to par, par meaning the number of strokes require completing a hole. If the number of strokes played is one below par than it is referred to as a birdie (originated from bird which meant cool, “hey, that was a bird of a shot”) and if it is one above par than it is a bogey (derived from the Bogey Man is waiting for you). You get the idea! There are two types of golfers, professional and social. To become a professional, you need to play below par (birdies and eagles); social golfers on the other hand are allowed to play with a handicap (a numerical measure of a golfer’s potential ability) meaning a par for a social golfer is one or two strokes more than for a professional. I know it seems complicated but I can assure you that it is very simplistic. Getting to play the game is where things get arresting, for example golfers have the tendency to confabulate with their ball. They would say things like “get down, go, not there you idiot, go left or break right”! They also love to take their frustrations out on their poor golf balls or expensive clubs. You would find clubs flying in all direction or golf balls being drowned in water hazards. Flying clubs are mostly followed by very inappropriate dialogs that require age restriction. Furthermore, golf has various acquired slang to it such as fore which is a warning yelled out to other golfers that they might be in danger due to an errant shot - shout or hear fore and you would see move shenanigans that doesn’t exist in any dance academy! Then there are hacker derived from the image of a golfer swinging a club widely or chopping at the ball; Texas wedge derived from using the putter to rap the ball onto the green; and the yips derived from a nervous affliction that affects a golfer’s game - probably inflicted by a spouse when hubby got stuck at the 19th hole. The best part of golf is, after plodding for 6 to 7 kilometer's, hacking your way around the course, blistered, exposed to inappropriate dialogs and the ferocity of solar radiation or drenched by terrestrial rain, you would do it all over again, a week later. You might not find any logic in that kind of behavior, but I can assure you, golfers do! Maybe General Smuts was right in his assumption that golfers are simple minded beings.

Underground

The discovery of gold in 1886 on the Witwatersrand (Johannesburg) had seen the pastoral and agricultural economy of South Africa changed to a mining economy. The mineral wealth of the country was further exploited when the rich Orange Free State goldfields began to produce in 1951 to add to the output of the Witwatersrand and the new mines on the West Rand area. To reach the rich Orange Frees State goldfields you need to travel to places such as Welkom and Allanridge. If you don’t know where that is, it is close to Bloemfontein. If you still struggle, take a map of South Africa and pin-point to the center of the map, which is plus-minus where you will find Welkom and Allanridge. Now that we have settled the location, allow me to shortly explain the basic life cycle of a mine. It begins with the exploration stage. Companies enlist geologists to prospect areas in search of mineral deposits. On finding potential deposits, the construction process occurs. Construction of mining sites revolve around building roads, processing facilities, environmental management systems, employee housing and other facilities. After construction the production stage kicks in. The two most common methods of production are surface and underground mining. The method is mainly determined by the characteristics of the mineral deposit and the limits imposed by safety, technology, environmental and economic concerns. The first step in the production stage is recovering the minerals. This is the process of extracting the ore from rock using a variety of tools and machinery. The second step is processing. The recovered minerals are processed through huge crushers or mills to separate commercially valuable minerals from their ores. The final stage in the life cycle is closure and reclamation. Once a mining site has been exhausted of reserves, the process of closing the site occurs, dismantling all facilities returning the land to its original state. My mining exploration (only exploration) started at Allanridge when a good friend of mine arranged for me to journey underground so that I could experience life 2 km below the surface. To appreciate life below you need to experience a mine-shaft elevator that lowers you to the appropriate depth. Please understand that a mine-shaft elevator is not your normal elevator. There are no shining buttons to push, nor mirrors to adjust your lipstick or hairdo, nope, it consist of a drum with a length of suspension cable attached to the one end of the passenger-carrying car or should I rather say cage. Trust me; cage is the most appropriate description. To go down, you need to get in. That is where your journey descending a mine-shaft becomes arresting. In the first place, don’t convince yourself that the cage is full; trust me, there is always space for one more. When you eventually do descend downwards, the cage is packed like a can of sardines. Itching becomes a no-no; you would not be able to scratch any part of your body, irrespective how puny that part might be. Furthermore, the speed of descending is neck-breaking. Your downward trend is accommodated with a whooping sound. You feel like you are transported into Star Trek experiences; that beam me up Scotty moment. I am convinced that the Scotty beam me up expression was conceived in a mine-shaft elevator. When you do reach the depth or level of exit, the cage doesn’t stop like a normal elevator, nope, because it is attached to a suspension cable, you start to experience the effects of bungee jumping. You see your exit point, now you don’t, you see it, now you don’t, until eventually you slow down to a complete stop allowing you to exit. The old hands would exit as if all is normal, however you as a novice are left big eyed with wet pants. And to add to your ‘groot skrik’ someone would throw in the remark “not to worry, the cable is insured, if it breaks will it be replaced”. Suddenly you are overwhelmed with the ‘ek mis my ma’ feeling. Ascending after a day underground back to the surface follows the same sequence as descending. The only real difference is that the cage is now packed to such an extent that you might find yourself dangling in the air with someone’s elbow stuck in the vicinity of your groin. I use vicinity as an appropriate direction because certain body parts are sensitive topics for us as the male specimen. Ladies, don’t laugh or even smirk, it’s not funny! I need to run, the elevator is here, the one with the shiny mirrors, and I should be okay traveling to the 3rd floor.

Window seating

Gautrain is an 80-kilometre commuter rail system which links Johannesburg, Pretoria, Ekurhuleni and O. R. Tambo International Airport. Although it was built to relieve traffic congestion, it was also a first to demonstrate the capability of achieving first world standards. Travelling at up to 160 kilometers’ per hour, Gautrain takes 35 minutes to travel between Johannesburg and Pretoria and 15 minutes from Sandton to the OR Tambo International Airport. Furthermore, the rail network is also connected to other forms of public transport like taxis, buses and the public train system. Commuters can also use several Gautrain buses to destinations within a 15 kilometer radius. For a short interval during my 50 years of so, I had the pleasure to work in the center of Pretoria. This provided me with the convenience of having the Gautrain to my disposal. A typical day would be to travel from my place of residence which is in Centurion to the Pretoria station where I took a bus into the city. The whole trip from stepping onto the train at the Centurion station and to be seated behind my desk took me roughly around 30 minutes. Not to inferior for a third world country! The only section of my trip which provided a challenge was the bus trip from the station to the center of city. In itself the trip wasn’t a challenge, no; it was the actual bus that was the challenge. You need to understand that whoever designed the bus never put foot in South Africa. When you visit South Africa you will experience that South Africans irrespective of race or background, isn’t minuscule in stature, nope; they are well-stocked meaning, a bus seat to say the least, should accommodate such well-stocked statures. Unfortunately, the seats were designed to accommodate hobbits, those found in the movie Lord of the rings. Getting back to my story, my stature is well-stocked which meant I acquire more space than the normal human being. Therefore, to ensure that my bus trip provided a certain level of convenience, I always ensured that the seat next to me stayed unavailable. Yes, I appear to be a narcissist but you need to understand I do have a tendency of being claustrophobic and convenience was also high on my list of priorities. On that particular day the bus was overflowing but luckily I entered the bus early enough to secure the seat next to me. However, just as we pulled out of the station, in dropped mummy Sophia (that is the name I gave her) and yep, she came straight for the partially open seat next to me. You need to picture mummy Sophia; she was more than well-stocked, so much so that two bus seats weren’t enough to accommodate her well matured stature. And did she drop in, trust me, when she hit that seat it felt like a tsunami; she flattened me against the window. I was dangling from the window like a fruit bat trying to find a way to breathe. At some point my life even flashed before my eyes and I knew, ‘boet’ today is the day you are entering pearly gates. I tried my utmost best to wrestle her for some puny space, but the more I wrestled the sturdier she became. It was like fighting ten bulls simultaneously in a Spanish bullring. It would have been easier to ascend Mt Everest with my hands tied behind my back. And there I was, while dangling from the window, praying to the good Lord to keep me safe, the headline for the following day’s newspaper’s flashed before my eyes, ‘tsunami kills man in Gautrain bus’. Luckily for me, mummy Sophia had a short trip, shorter than her stature and retired at the next stop. I don’t know what happened to mummy Sophia or how many unfortunate travelers she tsunamied, whenever I see a potential mummy Sophia, I start walking; I mean you need to know which fights to pick and which to avoid.