Rocking with Depression

I know what it feels like to be tired, moody, angry, irritable and as miserable as a Liverpool supporter, I have lived with a desire not to get out of bed in the morning and not even the allure of an exceptional cuppachino able to rouse limbs that feel hundreds of years old.

Its called depression and is basically a condition that takes the rock and roll from the soul and replaces it with Michael Bolton ballads, a fate worse than eating extra spicy curry when you have aching hemorrhoids i am told.
My name is Ted and I am on medication for depression.

When I am on the meds, I cope perfectly well and am able to cope with most of life's curveballs, without them I am unable to process and understand and rationally deal with them at all, I am an angry teenager who cannot comprehend  the need for logic as it defies my irrational tantrum. I was convinced by my therapist, doctor and friends that these were needed and the difference has been life-altering. My biggest stumbling block was "me" and seeing it as a character flaw, I was too proud initially to admit that I was not able to cope on my own, I mean just look at Batman and how happy he is! I have tried to wean myself more than once and quickly realised that they were a part of life as much as my distorted sense of humour is.

So all was going well until I discovered that I will be in Lesotho a week longer than anticipated and will be running out of my "happy I want to cuddle the world" pills. I have had to move to alternate days and with the reduction emerged my old enemy, laughing and attempting to drag me down to the cesspool from where he emerged. The battle has once more commenced.

For me to do my Mick Jagger moves with the raspiness of Bob Dylan impression, I need the little pearl of stability that comes in a white capsule and henceforth I can Rock the Depression oooooooo yeah. For now my moves are very unlike Jagger and resemble a sloth without a Garmin.

Also have the odd headache to contend with, but the light shines and the tunnel draws to a close.

Nite All

Rock & Roll Grub

It s fun, its sensual and its as sinful as wearing a loincloth made of bacon to a temple ceremony and you weren't even on the guest list.
Its like meeting your new dates parents and hitting on her Mom, its the orgasmic response to the first bite of a meal so good you want to cry.

Rock and roll depicts a theology and lifestyle that is more than the image of wild orgies and drugs, no my friends it is so much more than that. It's just a step to the left, and a jump to the right, its rock and roll dreams come true, its a crazy little thing to call love. Dreams than can come true, a smile and slow dance so intense that if you were to kiss, a crowbar would be required to pry you apart, yes my rocking friend its all about passion and living for that moment.

Rock and roll food is the same, its the juicy cheese burger complete with a slice of tomato and lettuce on a soft seeded roll, a beef patty the thickness of your thumb and hot crispy fries. As you bite into it, hot juices run down your chin and drip onto your plate, the taste of grilled beef and melted cheese awaken a stirring in you and you close your eyes and just relish the moment. It is a meal that awakens memories and if shared with a loved one you cant help but flirt with them as you lick your fingers between bites. You stroke the juices on your plate with a chip and the crunch as you bite into it sounds like ice cracking, slightly salty, hot and tainted with pleasure. Its a ballad of love found, lost and never forgotten. Its a kiss in an alley, its sneaking under their t-shirt and their sharp intake of breath as you make contact with their skin.

The smell, the taste, the experience is what makes it the ultimate rock and roll meal. Its about falling in love all over again or getting over a crashed relationship. Accompany it with great music and you can face another day or tackle the impossible.

Nite All

Spring Fever

Spring

Its when trees blossom and people seem to emerge from the sewers of winter wearing smiles and exposing white bleached skin to all and sundry.

Smiles replace grimaces and layers of clothing are replaced by tight t-shirts, amazing on the ladies but not so enduring on fully bodied middle aged men like myself. Picnics and walking and for some cycling become the order of the day as the winter kilos are frowned upon and the search for the perfect beach body commences.

I went for an half an hour brisk walk yesterday midst the locals who giggled and called me names I am sure refer to my rock and roll walking nature, red face and gasps of air. Some followed for a short while like vultures expecting me to drop and die so that they could pick me off like a corpse. I came back to my room and collapsed on my bed and dreamt of beer, cold frothy and oh so smooth, my bottled water tasted as exciting as Liverpool's Premier League survival. The need for bottled water is not due to my extravagant  lifestyle, no it has to do with the chemical smell and white sizzling nature of the local water on tap. I prefer my body to rust the old fashioned way, by means of lager and pilsner.

I am always reminded of the following quote when I begin outdoor exercising, " I don't trust joggers! It's just coincidental that they are the ones that find all the dead bodies"

Avoid bushes, watches and jewellery that lurk within your reach, you will discover that they are attached to a body and that leads to valuable time away from friends and pubs giving police statements. It also keeps you from exercising if you ever venture outdoors again. Perhaps this will explain the surge in the sale of treadmills in cities.

So besides the dead bodies and hayfever, you have picnics, beach parties and braais with friends. Embrace Spring and feast on the t-shirts fellas.

Nite

Rent a Midget

I am cold, freezing and in need of a hot water bottle or a midget to use to warm me. The Queen of Hearts in Alice in Wonderland had the right idea of using a warm pigs belly to rest her feet on, bravo evil Queen bravo.

It was -6'C last night and we had no water or electrical appliances due to our power board lighting up like a terrorist touring an explosive factory and then it died, tragically. Dark descended and with it came its extremely unpopular sidekick, Cold.

I was in bed by 7 and asleep by 8 complete with my thermal socks and only my eyes peeping out from beneath the blankets, I awoke at 02h00 and was cold. This is the first time since I have been in Lesotho that I have been cold at night, hence my request for a midget  that I can move around to warm the cold bits of my body. 

If any of you have a spare midget lying around, I would be most grateful if I loan the little bugger.

If I have offended any of you with my simple request for warmth and comfort, I apologise most profusely and will allow you visitation rights to midgetville, however I must urge you not to spoil them as midget tossing and Leon Schuster movies depend on them for their livelyhood.

On that emotional note, I have the following to say

Nite All

Passionate Princess

When I hear her voice I am instantly aware that passion of a woman compared to passion of a man are separated by voids not visible to the naked eye.

We all carry some underlying tone in our voices whether we are aware of it or not. Some carry a pretext of nagging, others mischievousness, cheekiness and even arrogance.

The lady in question who for purposes of this tale shall be addressed as "D" has the ability to fill a room like the faintest hint of an expensive perfume that tickles your nose as it brushes by you seductively. She giggles, flirts with her eyes as she gently bites her bottom lip and when your guard is down, has the ability to ask a question that leaves you squirming in your seat.

Picture yourself on a rooftop with a dark-haired beauty sensual in every manner sipping a delicious full-bodied glass of red wine and discussing life, love and sex. Imagine laughing and sharing as you try not to visualise the pictures you so desperately wish to for fear of falling off the roof. D is passionate about love, her children, her man and her career. When she entered politics she did so with the same energy she does life and this includes dedication, compassion and a temper so fierce I am amazed she has not entered parliament with a baseball bat. 

She is as comfortable addressing a board of directors as she is serving soup at a homeless shelter with an orphan in her arms. She gives and gives and eventually crashes and burns in a heap of exhausted emotions convinced she made no difference and in these moments of human frailty, she is even more beautiful than ever. It is here that she is able to let others love and care for here and nurse her back to rock and roll political goddess mode and set her loose on our society again. 

To be in the presence of a beautiful woman is indeed one of life's true blessings and when stimulated by her brain and a desire to change the world with a belief that it can be done, it inspires us to look beyond our petty emotions and focus on a larger greater need.

Nite All

Rural Bathing

Two days without bathing and I feel as if I am on the verge of launching a new kine of body odour called "You're Feisty".

Our water is pumped up to a holding tank and then distributed as and when we require it, when we have a power outage, we have no water and the odour of the past creeps back like heartburn after a dodgy pie.

I had set aside 3 wetwipes from a restaurant chain and this would been my plan of attack if the electric gods once again felt us unworthy of their gifts. It's moments like these that make living in Africa great, we have so much we take for granted and yet we have this fickle structure that is as reliable as Blackberry's future.

I awoke and water ran from the tap and I had to fight down the urge to run down the passageway singing "Rock and Roll dreams come true". It was a beautiful moment and even though the water pressure was a weak as a priests alibi on a youth camp, it was enough for me to wash all the bits that needed attending to.

So here I am at my desk, sick as a dog with flu, but not smelling like a lemon scented wetwipe and grateful for running water and electricity.

Nite All

Rock and Roll Parenting

Just under a hundred miles an hour on a potholed filled road with rock and roll blaring and singing at the top of my voice.

My head is clear and I had coffee with some beautiful amazing friends this weekend. This is the mood food that your soul requires, friends, hugs, laughter and a recharging of your positive mojo.

This overflowed into my joyful singing race to the border, I was Thelma and Louise served with a side order of Chuck Norris and just a pinch of Wolverine. Do I hear a hoohah? Lol

30 days till I see my girls again so time to buckle down and work. Eat the stew, admire the scenery and stay sane. It is Nicole's birthday next week and Simon's next month. I won't be there for either, its a choice my girls and I made together when I accepted this job. I know that by seeing them 3 days a month I am missing out on a large part of their life. If I had to philosophise it all I would be as miserable as a chubby boy who can't touch his toes. Instead I smile and when I don't I make contact with my support crew back home.

Parenting means making tough choices, we all do and we live by them.
Bravo to every parent out there, rock and roll parenting means doing your best and smiling when you feel like crying. I admire single parents and the tenacity and inner strength they show at all times. Yes we cry behind the scenes and lie awake worrying about making it to the end of the month, we struggle to give our kids the best and beg borrow and steal to see the look of absolute joy when they have it. We are survivors and silent worriers, but dedicated and hard working and often survive by accepting love and support from our friends.

Sometimes I have to push life to the limit, it is after all rock and roll to me.

Nite all