Dit is nie elke dag dat artieste en musikante, wat taal daagliks gebruik om emosie, woede, blydskap, liefde, haat, geskiedenis, phychedelic idees, drome, redenasie, evangelisme, en ander stories te verkoop, hul taal vereer in ‘n liedjie nie. Stef Bos en Amanda Strijdom (Strydom) het.
Stef Bos & Amanda Strijdom - De taal van mijn hart
Hier by ons en regtig orals oor Amerika is daar lokale radiostasies wat gewoonlik Klassieke Rock & Rock uitsaai. Afhangende van hoe jy Classic Rock definieer, sal jy by die een baie AC/DC, Led Zeppelin en ‘n horde van Amerikaanse “big hair bands” van die sewintigs en tagtiger jare hoor. By die ander een is Die Rollende Klippe (Rolling Stones), Elton John, Bruce Springsteen, The Eagles, en ‘n horde van Amerikaanse “big hair bands” van die sewintigs of tagtiger jare te hoor. Maar elke nou en dan dan adverteer stasie nommer twee: “We are not ashamed to play this on our radio station” en hulle trek weg met ‘n obskure nommer een van die verlede of iets “folksy” of “countryside.”
As ek soms met mede Suid Afrikaners oor musiek praat en ek bring die name Amanda Strydom of Coenie De Villiers op of selfs Emile Minnie dan kry ek so ‘n tweede kyk wat sê:
“Huh!...O ja…die kaberet sangers!”
Amanda Strydom - Stoom
(Ongelukkig is die video nie so goed soos die lied nie.)
Miskien is ek van ‘n vorige tydperk en De la Rey is eintlik ‘n karakter uit die geskiedenis boeke en nie so seer die naam van ‘n gewilde liedjie nie.
Nietemin, ek is nie skaam om te sê ek geniet Amanda en Coenie en selfs sekere van Emile se komposisies. Kaberet oftenot, wie het nou eintlik genres nodig? Dis die genot van die musiek wat tel.
Wel, genoeg gesê voordat ek hierdie bladsye verder bemes met woordelike misstof.
The 2009 summer in Kentucky was until now fantastic. Cool weather, no humidity and lots of regular rain all contributed to the ability to spend many bearable hours outdoors. That has all changed the past week or two when all the bad elements of summer seems to arrive at more or less same time that the big weather kahuna, El Nino, arrived in the Pacific ocean during July.
Last Saturday when 50-odd South Africans (en ‘n groot trop kinders) got together for a braai on the Kentucky Creek Stables farm in Harrodsburg, KY, it was unbearably hot and the humidity could be cut with a knife. Even after darkness the heat seem to linger around for longer than usual, (maybe all the Nederburg Cabernet Sauvignon and the Van Wyk’s adult-only liquefied “Melktertjies” contributed), but it didn’t do anything to dampen the spirits of those that attended from all over Central Kentucky, Louisville & Bowling Green in Western Kentucky, and even the Van Vuurens that drove all the way from Nashville, Tennessee.
Die gees was goed en die geselskap selfs beter.
More photos can be found on Facebook under groups : South Africans in Kentucky
Ek wonder daren wat gese was as 'n mens so na die gesigsuitdrukkings kyk op die foto. Laat ek raai:
Mariana (vingerwysend): "Ek is seker daarvan dit was sy wat ek gesien het die snye brood weggee vir mense. Met vyekonfyt en al!"
Karin (oopmond en verbasende uitdrukking): "Monica! Dit kan nie wees nie."
Monica - Maak of sy niks hoor nie.
LOL
Karin Krein, Fritz Haupt, Liebe, and Mariana Gagiano Meyer
Quentin, Brent & Liza Krein
Elani Fourie & Celia Steenkamp
Die broodsny tannies: Monica Hanekom & Karin Krein
Teresa & Kobus van Vuuren and Martin van Wyk
Vicky Clark, Adele Faul, Lilly van Wyk and Jeanine McCurdy
Andre Muller
What was interesting was that until the music started playing the horses in the background was no where to be seen. But when they heard the music they all popped their heads out to look what was going on on their practice ground.
"Ook maar nuuskierig!"
Heyns Faul and David de Villiers
Sonsondergang en die gebraaiery het net begin en almal het gehoop vir 'n koelte lafenis.
I got to get ready to pack, catch some sleep and get out of Mexico tomorrow morning but I want to leave here with something spectacular out of Mexico City. (Thanks Leon.)
Rodrigo y Gabriela
And how about their version of the old favorite Stairway to Heaven
Once a year, from the first Thursday in August to that Sunday, Joe and Mary Public, merchants, junk dealers or anyone else that try to make a quick buck, drag, push or carry their junk to US Highway 127 for the world’s longest yard sale. This is so “Only in America.”
For 654 miles through five states from West Unity, Ohio, in the north to Gadsden, Alabama in the south, the US Highway 127, which also runs through Danville, KY, become one big flea market and parking lot.
From in front of their houses (those located on the 127 where it is a single lane highway)
to any open field
the vendors will try to sell their old wagon wheels, home-made preserve, any other junk or fake antiques,
or old movie characters or Coke memorabilia,
or an old disused tractor
and the tools to fix it
so buyers, some dressed up for the occation,
can haul it back to their garages or storage units, which already contains so much junk they can't get their car or anything else in there.
Oh, and pity you if you are on that road, maybe in a hurry from point A to point B and not interested in anything for sale, and you get stuck behind a bunch of drive-by-I've-got-all-the-time-in-the-world-yard-sale-shopping-lovers.
Even the minutest effort in this Mexican heat like getting in a car to cross a few streets for brunch at Starbucks and return to the hotel makes my genetically northern European body exorcise sweat like rivulets joining the Amazon River delta.
[I have always dreamt of going to the Amazon jungle one day, but now I know I can forget about it. Upon my arrival I will probably liquefy and melt away like Jello.]
I know what I am going to do the rest of the day. Stay in my air conditioned hotel room, type away on my computer, sip Skyy Blue's, watch some of yesterday's Currie cup matches and forget about the world out there.
Just lazying around. Isn't that what Sundays are all about?
A strong breeze brought cooler air down from the mountains and the oppressing heat of the day has subsided at last. Since coming to Monterrey, Mexico, a few days ago the daytime temperature gauge has stayed above 39 degrees Celsius / 102 degrees Fahrenheit consistently.
As I stand next to the hotel’s swimming pool with a three-quartered moon semi-transparent through scattered clouds and enjoying a cigarette after watching the Springboks/Wallaby rugby international that was played earlier today in Cape Town, I am left pondering what the Springboks must do to score more tries. After again being in total control of the match they could show only one try for their efforts. Will their inability to score tries and thus lack of getting an additional bonus point come and haunt them later in the Trinations tournament? Although I am reminding myself of Naas Botha’s words, “watch the scoreboard”, I am certainly not complaining about another win for the Springboks.
Heinrich Brussow is certainly the find of the season and Morne Steyn is certainly the savior of the Springboks in the last couple of internationals, but any serious South African rugby lover has to worry what will happen the day when penalty kicks go awry and the Boks have to rely on tries to win games.
In 2004 South Africa won the Trinations with its rush defense that forced opposition into mistakes. Those mistakes were quickly turned into opportunities and points. In 2009 they are well placed to do it again with 3 played and 3 won, but this time it seems their tactic is kicking up-and-unders with excellent chasing from the wings, again, causing the opposition to make mistakes and this time it is the boot of Morne Steyn that is a turnstile of points. That said, the overall game plan is more complicated than just kick and chase and their run of success is more based on their direct, hard-as-nails forwards suffocating their opposition upfront to deny them access to the ball.
At this point in time, without any complaints, I am happy to take the winning log points and denying the New Zealanders and the Australians any bonus points, but I have to wonder when the Boks will start scoring tries. It is not that I am ungrateful for the wins; I am just a lover of the total rugby game and the complete and total annihilation of the opposition with all the possible ways to score.
