Growing up

Original post: 3 Aug 2007 from South Africa, during my stay in hospital (will get to that)

Okay, I’m starting a little before the beginning cause I don’t really remember much before “the accident”. I put that in parenthesis because it has been such a defining point in my life that it sometimes feels like it should be announced with a large Chinese GONG.
My first Dad, was a quantity surveyor (Junior Partner at Farolong- mind the spelling.). Not sure if I would have still become a programmer had he been alive today. I can't unfortunately tell you much about him cause I don’t really remember. I do remember being happy to see him when he came home and never saw someone run that fast after my little brother who disappeared down the beach because he decided that my parents should have gone down there. I can still remember running at full pace and suddenly feeling like I was standing still as my dad came flying by and scoop up my brother. Aside from small memories like this one I don’t think I remember the man, I wish I could remember his voice. I have trouble to come up with a memory of me sitting on his lap. But I can’t. Instead I just remember him as the man who brought me into this world. Gave me a great start to life and someone I loved.

Growing up we spent a lot of time at my father's parents farm. I can't honestly remember a great deal about it, but some of these photos ring vague bells.
My dad was working in a small town (He was junior partner at Foralang), Klerksdorp (We lived in Moreen Street 3). People, including us, living there will tell you its not a town it’s a small city. He got offered a job in Johannesburg. Back then it was still the old South Africa. I must admit to being totally and completely oblivious to the existence of apartheid growing up. I never thought of myself as being racist. The concept wasn’t even discussed with me or even mentioned to me. I was good friends with our gardener. His name was Johannes.
Okay not going into that discussion now because it’s a story all on its own.
So my dad got the new job and we were busy finalizing arrangements to move to Johannesburg. We even went there to look at the rent house (In Swallow Street in Horizon) we were going to stay in while my dad was going to build another house.
However we never made it home that night. Instead I woke up a week later in the hospital. My dad had died, my brother was in a coma and I had a 30cm scar down my tummy and another 20cm one on my arm. Fortunately my youngest brother only cracked his hip bone, my mom only bit open her lip and our cleaning lady Beauty, broke her nose (she was always with the family).
The time directly after the accident I think was hard for all of us. My mom especially, having to deal with three boys on her own whilst still providing us with the illusion that everything was alright. She still took us to the beach on holiday.
My brother who had stayed in a coma for a good part of 2 months had come out of it with some damage. So we stayed with my Dad's parents while he went through a lot of physio and operations to give him some hope of a normal life. He turned out good in the end, got through school. He got the house and the car and all that.
I was having problems at school. I wasn’t a popular boy before the accident but after it I became the guy who’s dad died and who the whole class went to visit in the hospital, and after a while the reason why I was different got lost on people and I was just labelled different. Unfortunately the fact that I had a huge imagination didn’t really help. As I had trouble making friends I started making up my own worlds in my head. Which would have been okay if I didn’t insist on telling everybody about them.

About 2 years after the accident my mom got married again to my dad and I couldn't have asked for a better father. I did get moved from being the oldest in the family to being the middle which kinda sucked but I wouldn't have it any other way. With my new dad I also got two older sisters.
My parents eventually wanted to give me some help so I was sent on a course. Young winners, yes, it is as corny as it sounds and even though I hated it, (Especially cause it was on while I wanted to watch ninja turtles), in hid sight, I guess it helped me, a bit. Maybe it was that, that made me make one of the dumbest decisions of my life:
I decided to go to a Technical High School. I’m a sucker for a sales pitch, ask my girlfriend she can vouch on that one. When the people from the Technical high school came and made their pitch at our school I was sold.

The promise of a new beginning, where very few people knew me was great. But your reputation follows you and I have to say that having a reputation grow from the seed of a few rumors can be much worse than the actual reputation. I was back to the “misunderstood” outsider. Until I got some backbone and eventually at the beginning of Grade 11 decided to go back to the high school where all the other kids from my primary school went to, and suddenly I was accepted. Maybe it was the putting up with bullies 24/7 in the other School. Maybe it was just that I finally got it. But I was for lack of a better word, normal.
The technical school wasn't all bad. I met some really good friends there that I still keep in touch with whenever I get a chance.
From then on my life just got better, I met the friends that till today are like my brothers. I had a fantastic University life of partying my hart out.

I was a late starter on the whole girls issue. But I did eventually catch on to that one to and it was in one of my late nights clubbing that I happen to meet my girlfriend, Heather. I walked past her earlier in the night and something about her caught my attention. Saw her later on while she was dancing on the stage and eventually caught up with her sitting on the stage. I got her name and her phone number and my pick up line was literally.”Give me your phone number and I’ll buy you a drink on your birthday.” And she gave me her number. Who says corny pickup lines don’t work?
We had a great 6 weeks before she left for London. I saw her off at the airport and I was pulled not just by her, but by her freedom. Going off to another country, no debt no attachments nothing, she just packed up and went.
At that point in my life I was working for a company doing database analysis work for large companies. I was driving a nice car for a guy my age, and I was out of my parents house. Albeit that I moved in with my brother. The point that I’m trying to make is I was well on my way to settling down. Most of my friends had long term girlfriends, the one that didn’t was still studying and didn’t have the cash enough to keep going clubbing night after night. And so my life was kinda at a turning point.
But I delayed.

My first car

You never forget your first car! In the process of transferring the previous post I came across this photo :)  Can you spot me the head sticking out, lol.
I have loads of memories associated with this old skiedonk.
It had a big exhaust that meant it could be heard from kilometers away. One of my friends said that their TV distorted when I pulled up :)
We had a blast with it, and even did a trip down to Margate from Johannesburg with it for the Y2K new-years celebration. We almost had to turn back but after some fiddling in the engine at the first service station it managed to make it all the way there and back. Was about 7 hours there and 7 back.
The steering weel had about a 10 degree "give" after someone (guy in the blue in the photo :)) drove it over a side-walk, but that didn't stop me from driving it for another year before I bought by second car with some money I inherited from Oupa Daan (my namesake :))

My 21st

I had the option of a party or a trip to a warm water (at the time it was called Warm baths or Warm Bad) resort for my 21st with a couple of friends. Guess which one I picked :)
It was a great weekend. As I recall one entire boot of one car was dedicated to alcohol. But we also had some amazing Ribs (wonder if they still make them in Witpoortjie)
I have a fond slighly hazy memory of making up shooters and getting a moth full of curdled Kalua with Sours... I think we called it the snot-ball shot :)