Normally I would object. But standing in the middle of Montmartre, one of Paris’s many tourist hubs, watching couples as they bought paintings, ate croissants, drank coffees and tasted chocolates…somehow it seemed true.
Ah man, it was just the kind of humour I needed on a six hour train ride. The son had reached peak ADD levels and the father had clearly had enough. It was a surprisingly effective parenting/threatening technique.
He was clearly a teacher, addressing a large group of students seated on the floor of the museum. The topic: dinosaurs. The reference: Jurassic Park, of course. Turns out velociraptors (the ones that chased the kids in the kitchen scene) were in fact only the size of turkeys in real life.
There he was, Piers Morgan, combating questions from the coveted and controversial Oxford Union, and in particular, sharing his views on the recent UK national elections. Ironically, it was his own old-fashioned honesty which I appreciated the most as he spoke. I left wondering when (if ever) #honestyisthebestpolicy might actually be used as a campaign line.
The words caught my attention as I walked into the Ogilvy London office. It couldn’t be more appropriate as I’d taken a month off work to do exactly that.
Frik was a large, rugged Afrikaaner with a fag hanging from the corner of his mouth. He sat down on our cooler box, evidently unconcerned by the streaks of tomato sauce and boerewors juice spewed across the surface. He tore a corner from the lid of his cigarette box and, using it as a plectrum, began to play. The guitar looked more like a ukelele against his belly.
When he finished, I offered him a skottel-braaied crumpet for his efforts. His response, and in fact the entire scene, could not have been scripted better.
He coughed. Then in the same gruff voice with which he sang, replied, “Only if it’s got gunja…”.
The disbelief was palpable. Luckily they turned out to be biscuits.