"If there's music inside of you, you've got to let it out." (From my song, Music Inside of Me)

Hi! I'm Trudy Rushin, and this is my blog, created in June 2009. I am a singer-songwriter-composer who plays guitar. Born and bred in Cape Town, South Africa, I blog about whatever captures my imagination or moves me. Sometimes I even come up with what I like to call 'the Rushin Solution'. Enjoy my random rantings. Comment, if you like,
or find me on Facebook: Trudy Rushin, Singer-Songwriter.

I also do gigs - solo, duo or trio - so if you're looking for vocal-guitar jazz music to add a sprinkle of magic to your event, send me an e-mail to guitartrudy@gmail.com.

To listen to me singing one or two of my original songs, type my name on www.soundcloud.com or www.youtube.com


















Saturday 26 November 2011

Saturday 26 Nov 2011

This morning I participated in a Women's Wellness Breakfast, organised by the multi-talented Inez Woods, in the southern suburbs of Cape Town. Her previous two were out Blouberg way. About 50 women gathered at Tango's, a restaurant not far from where I live, and spent a few hours together, hanging out, sharing and basically 'filling our tanks' with inspiration, so that we may continue our respective journeys with more insight and joy.

I'm typing this at an internet cafe, so I won't write my review right now. For those who were interested in the books I recommended, here they are:
The Seat of the Soul - Gary Zukav
Mind Power for the twenty-first century - John Kehoe
Women Who Run With The Wolves - Clarissa Pinkola Estes
Women Who Love Too Much - Robin Norwood

Well done to Inez for accomplishing her third event of this nature this year. I remember when it was just an idea, something that she was dreaming of doing. I am immensely inspired by this powerful, inspiring, kick-ass woman.

Monday 21 November 2011

Colour TV

Written: Sat. 3 September 2011

A bit hindered by technology, but decided to go ahead anyway. My laptop has a virus problem, so, until it’s sorted, I’m not inserting my memory stick – it corrupted two of our memory sticks, last week, before we realised what the problem was. Like so many other things in life, sorting this out requires spending money, but, like just as many other things in life, there’s always Plan B: finding a friend who’ll do it as a favour.

I’ve realised that I enjoy sitting and typing as much as I do writing (with a pen). Whatever I type now can’t be saved on my memory stick until the virus problem is fixed, so I won’t have the gratification of posting my new article on my blog within a day or two. My recent blog posts have been relatively short, because I’ve been typing them at the internet café. I’ve thought of writing them out and then typing them at the café later, but that somehow defeats the spontaneity (a friend of mine says “spontanuity”) of blogging.

I heard something funny on tv last night – watched “Colour TV” for the first time – which was a performer saying she had an assistant updating her blog regularly. The interviewer asked her, “With your ideas or hers?” (Funny how he assumed the assistant was a woman.) She replied that the assistant posted her ideas (the artist’s). I suppose this is fairly common, as I’m sure there many different applications of the blog concept, but I somehow like the idea of someone, no matter how busy or famous, taking the time to sit down and record, in his/her own words, things on a blog. I don’t doubt that this perspective might change as I encounter more blogs and see the diverse ways in which they’re used. I suppose they’ve come to replace websites, to a large extent.

So, how do I feel about “Colour TV”? As I said, I’ve watched it once only, and that was simply because I was busy doing something in the lounge, the tv was on, I looked up and there it was – a newish South African television programme specifically showcasing “Coloured” people. When I first saw it advertised, a few weeks ago, I did not find it interesting - or important – in any way, and simply forgot about it. The repeated ads kept bringing it to my attention, but again, I didn’t diarise it nor make a mental note to catch it when it came on, unlike my reaction to another new tv programme, “Hello Doctor”, which I thoroughly enjoy and make a point of watching every Sunday at 5pm.

“Colour TV”, from what I gather, attempts to show the funny side of Coloured people, as well as showcase individuals who’ve achieved success in their fields of specialization. My reaction to the humour ranged from a reluctant grimace to a spontaneous guffaw, the latter confined to the ad lib-type comments by the two characters who’re supposed to be the behind-the-scenes studio engineers. They’re quite funny, and their lines sound authentic.

What I do have a problem with, and I might as well be bold enough to just say it, is the perpetuation of the Coloured stereotype – I really don’t need yet another display of the same thing. Yes, many Coloured people talk in a sing-song accent; yes, many Coloured people mix their languages and often can’t speak even one of them fluently; yes, music and performance play a huge role in the lives of many Coloured people (show me a culture where this is not so); yes, the comedic element is rife……… but why is the focus once again on the ridiculous?

What exactly is the goal, here? If this is in response to the hugely successful tv programme, Eastern Mosaic, which focuses on the Indian community in South Africa, I think it’s seriously missed the point. Eastern Mosaic doesn’t caricature its target audience and perpetuate embarrassing stereotypes. It celebrates the history and culture of South Africans of Indian descent, and does so very successfully, in a way that entertains and educates viewers (from diverse backgrounds).

I’ve been wondering about something: the guest who was interviewed towards the end of the programme (by Terrence somebody) – Shimmy – spent so much time doing the raucous Coloured laugh that she looked like she was faking it. Are the guests given the brief as to how to behave, so that you come across as a real Coloured? And what is a real Coloured, anyway?

I won’t deny that the apartheid system, in forcing people to live as separate nationalities within one country, created pockets of culture within the nation, and yes, we did end up developing separate identities. I’m all for celebrating diversity, but I’m afraid this kind of thing doesn’t resonate with me. It’s like those District 6 plays – someone described the genre as “the heart without the head”, and I agree that many of those plays are slanted in a direction that focuses on the soap-opera aspect, rather than whatever else was happening at the same time in history, to people from that same community.

Yes, show South Africans and what they’re all about. Yes, educate the different communities about each other’s peculiarities. Yes, be proudly whoever you want to be. But please don’t portray these differences in ways that over-simplify and ridicule. Do we really want the first thing that comes into someone’s mind when they hear the word “Coloured” to be a picture of someone speaking bad English with a couple of missing teeth and a laugh that hints at some kind of chemical imbalance?! The stand-up comedians have milked that stereotype to death – enough already!

I’ve learnt to trust my instincts. If I spent most of the time cringing while watching “Colour TV”, then I honestly can’t say I found it enjoyable, educational or in any way entertaining.

I won’t be watching it again.

I look forward to a more current and relevant take on the topic.

The day of Aunty Joyce's funeral

There are two things I miss a lot, each of which adds a dimension to my life that opens up a myriad of possibilities: having internet access at home, and swimming.

Today is Thursday 22 September. The significance of this date is varied – it’s the date on which my parents got married in 1956, but it’s also the day we said our final farewell to an aunt, my late dad’s cousin, Joyce Ronnie (nee Rushin). She passed away on Sunday 18 September, and the funeral was today. She’d been a stalwart of the Methodist Church in Surrey Estate, in the broader Athlone area of Cape Town. She and her late husband, Edwin, had been a formidable couple, practising their Christian faith in the most practical of ways.

But that’s not what I remember about Aunty Joyce and Uncle Edwin – I remember how happy they were in each other’s company. Unlike many men I’ve encountered, Uncle Edwin always treated his wife with respect, and there was no mistaking the love he had for her. Similarly, she beamed when she was with him, and it was clear he was her soul mate, her partner of choice, the love of her life. More than that, they shared an ability to live life to the full and to do so with a good dose of humour. Their sons - Derek, Roger and Donny – are three really nice guys, and they carry in their genes the wonderful attributes of their amazing parents.

I was privileged to have been at Aunty Joyce’s final birthday celebration, in June this year, when she turned 79. She took a break from the home where she lived, in order to be at Derek’s house, where a tea party was held in her honour. I was moved, that day, when a relative, Charles Rushin, paid tribute to her in a speech. He made a point of saying that people always waited till someone died before saying what a wonderful person he/she had been, but he wanted to say TO Joyce (they were cousins) how special she was to him and to everyone present. She sat on the couch, quietly taking it all in, smiling in her sweet, dignified way. We all knew that she was, in fact, gravely ill – her severe weight loss bore testimony to this – and I think everyone felt, that day, that it could well be her last birthday. And so it was.

Interesting how someone’s death ends up bringing family and friends together. I saw so many people I hadn’t seen in years!

Miscellany

Written: Saturday night, 29 October 2011

I came to terms, long ago, with the fact that I’m one of those people who live life intensely. The past few weeks, with the profound changes I’ve experienced – some a lot easier to assimilate than others - bear testimony to this.

It’s 10:35pm and I’ve just come home from a lovely gig with Wayne - a house party in Kuils River. I don’t just enjoy making music a little, I LOVE it. I thrive on it. I draw strength and inspiration from it. Very little makes me as happy as playing music in a performance context does. If I could perform every day, I’d be the happiest person alive. I also did a gig during the week, with Keith Tabisher’s trio. Very cool. It was high on a hill, with the most magnificent view in every direction. Before the gig started, we were treated to a sunset that was so splendid, we all became silent as we watched in wonder. It was a night of great collaboration. The musicians I work with inspire me immensely. I learn from them all the time, and continue to grow as a musician because of them.

A few days ago, I started teaching a few subjects to adult students, at a college in Cape Town’s city centre, the answer to months of prayers by many people. It’s a temporary post, till 6 Dec. I’ll write more about this, sometime. I teach subjects from the old matric syllabus: English First and Second Language, Afrikaans Tweede Taal and Criminology.

When I was retrenched a year ago, I had no idea it would be so hard to find employment. Our economy’s in a terrible state, with the statistics on unemployment showing little or no improvement. I wonder what the tipping point will be, that moment when our government realizes it HAS to prioritise job creation. I feel very strongly about the huge disparity between the haves and the have-nots, and it saddens me beyond words that the fat cats in parliament seem oblivious to the awful day-to-day struggles of unemployed people.

Sunday night, round midnight:
I have an extremely busy week ahead. I sat my kids down with my diary, this evening; we went through each one’s after-school activities and tried to get our three schedules to somehow fit into a seamless whole – haha! We’ll see. I have a feeling that there’ll be plenty of quickly-prepared meals, as well as late-night laundry sessions, with the unavoidable three-hour sleeps that seem to go with this kind of week. I regretted availing myself for a gig on Tuesday night, as it falls in a crazy period in our lives.

I need to sleep. Listening to Brazilian music on the laptop – aaaaah, what a treat! Soulful, soothing, lulling. I’m deeply grateful to the guy who fixed my laptop, removed the virus and installed an anti-virus programme. :-) Earlier today I found an old cassette of Bahian music, and I listened to the whole thing. Song after song took me back to Salvador Bahia……intoxicating, strangely familiar, a place I’m sure I’m genetically linked to. One day when I have spare money, I’ll take that blood test that reveals your genetic path globally. I’ve always wondered about my origins; I’m expecting to be connected to South America in some way. Or some other culture where the guitar and hand drums feature prominently and the rhythms are the ones I feel in my blood.

Singing now – Rosa Passos, “E Luxo So”. I love this song! Lovely arrangement, just enough congas, light, suggestive, rhythmical, inviting us to dance, sway, samba, samba, samba, smile, sing……! Rosa Passos does the song with so much finesse, gliding her way through the lyrics like a dancer, with her silky smooth voice, effortless, ethereal. Brazilian music! Hits me in the solar plexus, takes my breath away and always puts a smile on my face. How lucky I am, in so many ways.

Goodnight, sweet world.

:-)

Amazing

"Written: Sun. 13 November 2011

Listening to Stevie Wonder’s “Golden Lady”.

Aaaah, another lazy Sunday morning. Seems like a new routine emerging, to blog in this timeslot. I seem to remember it being a routine I had sometime ago, before the laptop caught the virus. I’m starting to suspect that internet cafes are the problem. I must’ve picked up a virus on my memory stick, then transferred it to my laptop at home. The owner of the intcaf suggested I use my laptop there. I managed it once only, because I usually pop in on my way home, and the laptop’s not always with me.

Woke up, sent a few sms’s re outstanding guitar lesson fees. The craziness of my life at the moment is that I’m working in a job in the city, incurring extra expenses linked to transport, etc, but still 100% dependent on music (guitar fees and gigs) as my source of income, until the day I get paid by my new employer. A glorious day, I hasten to add, anticipated with such excitement, you’d be surprised! Try being unemployed, then self-employed in the music world for many months, and you’ll know what I’m talking about. Having said as much, if I don’t get steady employment for 2012, it’s my plan to develop the self-employment concept into a far more structured and sustainable situation. I am a mother, I have to look after my family and make sure I pay my way through life, which just seems to get more and more expensive, no matter how one attempts to master the art of belt-tightening. Sometimes I get sick and tired of having to live the way we do, doing without important things, because there’s just no money.

“All is fair in love.” A bit of a hectic concept for me, right now. I went to a family wedding yesterday. Driving to Stellenbosch, I thought about love, loyalty, commitment, marriage, and about the two young people embarking on this journey. I knew that, like all the other people my age in the gathering, cynical in spite of ourselves, I’d be sitting there wishing them all the luck in the world, wishing them a beautiful life together, but painfully aware that the odds are so stacked against that. As I sat through the speeches, I realised that the couple and their families were born-again Christians, and I concluded that, with that as a central force in their lives, they probably stood a better chance of weathering the storms. I sincerely wish them life-long happiness, because the idealist in me still believes it’s possible.

“If It’s Magic” – has to be one of the most beautiful Stevie Wonder songs. Like most songs, its beauty lies in its simplicity. As a songwriter (and word nerd), of course I’m affected by the sheer poetry of the lyrics.

If it's magic...
Then why can't it be everlasting
Like the sun that always shines
Like the poets in this rhyme
Like the galaxies in time

If it's pleasing...
Then why can't it be never leaving
Like the day that never fails
Like on seashores there are shells
Like the time that always tells

It holds the key to every heart
Throughout the universeIt fills you up without a bite
And quenches every thirst

So... If it's special
Then with it why aren't we as careful
As making sure we dress in style
Posing pictures with a smile
Keeping danger from a child

It holds the key to every heart
Throughout the universe
It fills you up without a bite
And quenches every thirst

So... If it's magic...
Why can't we make it everlasting
Like the lifetime of the sun
It will leave no heart undone
For there's enough for everyone

Later on in the album, “Ribbon in the sky” has such a beautiful piano solo, you realise that this brilliant pianist is a man known more for his voice and lyrics than for his sheer mastery of this instrument. Interesting how many other artists’ songs feature him on harmonica – and when you hear the sound, it’s immediately recognisable as Stevie’s playing.

Do you know the song “Stay Gold”? I only became aware of it when my sister lent me this album of Stevie Wonder love songs. It’s a song that I can imagine Zane Adams, Vernon Castle, Glenn Robertson or Richard Caesar doing. (All Cape Town male vocalists, in case the names are unfamiliar to you.)

My friend, Keith, gave me a lovely album once, with various female vocalists I wasn’t familiar with. Listening to a song now that was introduced to me on this album, a song I find magical – “Amazing”, by Sara Gazarek. I’ll type the lyrics, but to appreciate the power of the song, you have to listen to this woman’s voice – uncluttered, crystal clear, pure, honest. The sparse arrangement of the piece adds to the overall effect. I always favour the less-is-more approach.

Amazing (sung by Sara Gazarek)

Sunflower beauty surrounds me / Against a sky of grey
The night time falls down upon me / At the closing of this day
Words cannot explain the feeling that my heart speaks of
The choices, the boundaries
When I feel the pain of all of these thoughts of mine,
The questions, the answers

When will I realise all of life is amazing
Take it in, let it go, can’t you see it’s so amazing

I need the feeling of sunlight / To help the forget the cold
Between the spaces of daylight / There lives a frozen soul
Here we go again, this wandering mind won’t settle down
If just for a second
When I think it’s gone, it starts itself right up again
Unending and relentless

When will I realise all of life is amazing
Take it in, let it go, can’t you see it’s so amazing

Melt away, let life flow
Just give in, just let it go
Current strong, so am I
Amazing things don’t ever die

(piano solo)

When will I realise all of life is amazing
Take it in, let it go, can’t you see it’s so amazing

When will I realise all of life is amazing
Take it in, slow it down, can’t you see it’s so amazing

Melt away, let life flow
Just give in, just let it go
Current strong, so am I
Amazing things don’t ever die

Never die

)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
Yesterday I thought about life expectancy, and decided that, since so much of my life has been fraught with one struggle after the other, I’d really like to live to the age of 100, because the next 50 years can only be better, and maybe in that way I’d attain some sense of symmetry, fulfillment. But then, I like the energy I have now, and I suppose that just weakens over time. I mean, can you imagine me doing gigs at age 100? Wonder what we’d call our duo? Some really funny names come to mind, none of them printable – because then you’d really see how off-beat my humour was! :-)
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Niche

Written: Sat. 19 November 2011

What is it you look forward to doing, when life affords you a break from what you HAVE to do every day? THAT’S your truth. For me, there are two strong pulls – playing my guitar, and writing. Sometimes, when I have to choose, because the gap between scheduled activities is so small, the decision is organic: I simply go wherever the pull is the strongest at the time. For really short gaps, I pick up my guitar and play whatever comes to mind. At other times, if I have a long stretch of time, as in hours, or even a whole day (quite unusual), I try to balance the time between the two. Both restore my sense of balance, as well as my feeling that I’m living my life according to my own terms, that wonderful, heady feeling of freedom that dawns on me every now and then.

This has been a year like no other, and the lessons in humility and frugalness I’ve had to learn will most likely be my best allies in the years ahead, as my thoughts turn to what it is I really want to do, to earn a living.

In a sense, it’s merely an academic exercise, this “wondering what it is I want to do” – because I know, just like I’ve known for a long, long time: it’s simple – it’s music! I’ve been teaching guitar lessons since March this year, and I now have 24 students. I’ve sat and done some projections: it’s entirely possible for me to earn an acceptable (not lavish) income from doing just this. I’d have to work hard and smart, and treat it very seriously (as I currently do, anyway), but run it as a tight business enterprise. For me, that’s just the start. This year has shown me the most important thing, and it’s this: I don’t have to do what everyone else is doing, even as a guitar teacher. I need to do what I love doing, and the rest just flows. My niche market is a different one, as I’ve always been convinced there was a significant part of the population wanting to play the guitar socially, to strum chords and play songs they can sing along to, either alone or with others. That’s my market, not people wanting to study music to write exams and do their grades. I can refer my students to teachers who do that, if they get to a point where they want to.

I have quite a few challenges, the most important being to set it up as a small business enterprise. Actually, that’s just one of the important challenges. I’ve learnt some big lessons the hard way, this year, and two of them are:
1) it’s crazy for me to drive to my students’ homes to teach them – it impacts on two of the most important elements, time and money, limiting my productivity and potential income, and
2) I have to establish a simple, effective, no-nonsense fee-collecting system, to cut out the inconvenience and anxiety I’ve had to endure, this year.

So my challenges are clear, as I approach 2012 and consider developing this venture along more serious lines. Knowing myself, I can safely say that setting up the guitar lessons in this way is just the skeleton of what my life will be about – I am a creative person, and teaching guitar lessons, day in and day out, in 30-minute timeslots, could become as unfulfilling as sitting behind a computer in an office; no, my vision extends way beyond this. The one thing I know I need, in order to feel “alive and kicking”, is the excitement of a new project to sink my teeth into. Based on this, I can guarantee you there’ll be lots more I’ll be doing with my time, involving music, but also aimed at another one of my life’s goals: to make a difference in post-apartheid South Africa.

The more the universe exposes me to different people and the realities of life in post-apartheid South Africa, particularly in my city, Cape Town, the more I’m convinced my real role lies in merging these two passions, and forming a collective of some kind, aimed at enhancing people’s lives through music, by taking music to them and affording them opportunities to learn, explore and extend that side of themselves. The real challenge then becomes finding a model which will fulfil my philanthropic needs and earn me a sustainable income, on which to support my family, as a single mother.

And with that, it’s just about time for my alarm to go off, as I prepare to teach a few guitar lessons, do some housework and spend time with my amazing children. You have to be amazing to put up with me! :-) The good news is that, while I do spend a lot of time in my head, planning, dreaming, conjuring up projects, I do move beyond this and bring the dreams to life. But more importantly, for me, success always has meant - and always will - success for the collective, not just the individual.

Utopia. Such a fun place to go to, in my head. :-)

Tuesday 8 November 2011

You’ve Got A Friend

Picture: a cropped version of one of Gregory Franz's photos taken at my recent concert.

Sunday 6 November 2011

One of those days where there’s so much on my mind (this is always true), that I don’t know where to start.

The pleasure of being able to start my day relaxing in bed and typing a blog post, is something I haven’t had for a while. Thanks to the assistance of a very generous friend, I was recently able to sort out quite a few loose ends, including my laptop problems. I might not believe in angels with wings and harps, but I certainly have encountered, in the course of my life thus far, people who possess the qualities ascribed to angels. This friend is one of them.

The profound changes I’ve experienced, over the past fourteen months, and particularly in the last two, have altered the direction of my life irreversibly. The best part is, I’m at peace with it all. When you’re in the middle of a big, life-altering event (being retrenched, for example), it’s easy to feel like you’re the victim of an arbitrary act of unfairness, and it’s even easier to wallow in self-pity. As trite as this may sound, the longer you remain in that state of woe-is-me, the longer you’re likely to take to restore the equilibrium in your life. Some people, for whatever reason, never move beyond the anger-and-blame stage, after an extremely unpleasant or challenging experience, and live the rest of their lives bogged down by the weight of it. I’ve encountered people in their senior years whose every utterance spews out the venom of past injustices, hurts and disappointments. It saddens me that they’ve not been able to deal with, work through and move past their pain; their lack of joy and excitement about anything makes me wonder what daily life must be like for them – I can’t imagine living life like there’s nothing to look forward to. In fact, I’ve promised myself something, especially after my most recent “extremely challenging experience”: if any part of my life feels like a drag, like it’s going nowhere and it’s sapping my joy, rather than fuelling it, and if it feels like there’s nothing to look forward to, it’s time to be true to myself and walk away. I’ve been severely tested, recently, but I’m going through all the emotions that I have to, immersing myself in the different facets of closure, and moving on. Just give me time - I’ll be more than ok.

The beautiful symmetry of life’s energy flow has again become apparent to me, in the past few weeks: the same day I discovered something toxic in my close circle and decisively extricated myself from it, I received a phone call about a possible job opportunity. I went for an interview a few days later, was accepted for the position a few days after that, and am now working in a part-time position, till the end of the school year. I’m lecturing at one of the big FET (Further Education and Training) colleges in our city. Yes! Beaming with excitement and loving every minute of it! I lecture four subjects in the old matric syllabus, to adults: English First Language, English Second Language, Afrikaans Second Language, and Criminology. I love the old building, I’m enjoying the students, and the staff has been welcoming, friendly and helpful. I drive to town every day, leaving home earlier than ever before, and it all works out beautifully. When the children are with me, I leave even earlier! We managed four out of five seamless mornings this week, which was not bad at all! I leave college at 3:30pm, so I miss the evening traffic craziness. I take De Waal Drive (a winding road on the lower slopes of Table Mountain) twice a day, which gives me a sensory feast of ocean and mountain, filling my songwriter tanks, making my spirits soar.

I am alive, so I might as well be very alive!

I have chosen to continue with all my other activities, despite having a day job, which means I still tutor a little boy in the afternoons and teach all my guitar lessons (13 a week, including groups) in the evenings and the whole of Saturday. Besides that, I’ve done a few gigs, as well! Of course, this translates into a hectic schedule, but I’ve chosen to seize opportunities when they arise and to cut the clutter as much as possible. Prioritising and being realistic about how much I can and can’t do, are important under these circumstances. The job ends on 6 December, after which I go back to being a self-employed musician, which was why I didn’t want a break in the guitar lessons. As it is, I’m probably going to be faced with a sudden drop in income in December, if most or all of the students take a break. Here’s sending out a message to the universe – send me lots of fun, well-paid gigs, please!

Speaking of which, yesterday I did a one-hour gig with my friend, Keith Tabisher, at a wheelchair race organised by the Western Cape Rehabilitation Association (I might have the actual name wrong). It was in Mitchells Plain, on the premises of Lenteguer Psychiatric Hospital, where the Rehab building is situated. We sat under a huge Nomad tent and the sound was done for us. We played a selection of well-known instrumentals and songs, and people enjoyed the music. Keith played his acoustic guitar and the two guitars sounded more beautiful than I can describe. Performing music is not just about instruments, techniques and item selection – it’s so much about the energies of the people. We’ve known each other since we were teenagers, and have played in more gigs together than I have with anyone else, and all that history comes together when we play.

Every gig I do is like a chapter in the story of my life, and there’s inevitably something funny that happens. Yesterday we faced the challenge of announcements blaring while we were performing, with the same speakers emitting both. At first, we were thrown by the interruptions, and stopped playing till the announcement was over, then started the song again. This wasn’t very successful, because a few seconds later there’d be another announcement, and we’d have to start again. In the end, we found a compromise, continuing to play the chords and just stopping the vocals until he’d finished the announcement, so you’d have the unbelievable combination of something like: “When you’re down and troubled, and you need some love and care/All the contestants for the 800m wheelchair race please come to the Start/Close your eyes and think of me, and soon I will be there/ Don’t forget you can take a raffle for just R5 to win a fabulous… /You just call out my name, and you know wherever I am, I’ll come running/ We’d like to thank our sponsors, …, for making this event possible /You’ve got a friend!

J