Crossing The Line

On Sunday morning, I woke up an hour earlier than I'd planned to, and lay there wondering if I should spend that hour in bed or go for a walk, running through a mental list of all the advantages the walk had over the rest. You'll be surprised to hear that I went for the walk! I went to my kitchen and looked out of the window at the spectacular view of the Constantia mountains and saw that the weather was perfect for walking - overcast, silver-grey, pending, and very, very still..... moody, mystical, magical.

I walked for just over an hour, in perfect tranquility, using the time to do some uninterrupted thinking, but also to breathe in the fresh air and feel part of the universe and the wonderfully unfolding spring season.

So where does someone like me take a walk, without having to drive a few kilometres first? The answer is simple: while I don't exactly live in a leafy suburb, thanks to the old apartheid system, I live across the road from one. Or, to be more specific, across the line. The grand plan of the apartheid government entailed grouping people geographically, to confine their activities and interactions to 'people of their own kind'. The railway line in Cape Town's southern suburbs divided the city along 'racial' lines, and to this day, these areas are still populaced predominantly by the original groups.

So, when we debate on the topic of how many generations it will take before South Africans start ignoring "race" or ethnicity, we need to bear in mind that many physical structures that were designed to separate, alienate and subjugate still exist, and serve as reminders, every day of our lives, of that part of our country's history. And even to call it "our country's" history is slanted, and serves to dilute the truth, because it's OUR history. It was about people. And we are those people.

And so, while I was walking in leafy suburbia, which is accessible but still inaccessible - because we are now at that stage of "our country's history" where access to and ownership of everything beautiful is determined by socio-economic class and not by colour - I thought about the fact that I had "crossed the line", in order to walk amongst fragrant pine trees. I thought about other ways in which I had crossed the line, that morning and throughout my life. I thought about decisions I had made that had been unpopular with my close circle, some of which I'd later regretted. I smiled as I thought about the ones I would never regret, as controversial as they may have been.

In the old South Africa, when people spoke about someone coming from "the other side of the line", it usually referred to someone from a different "race", but of course the loud, grimy railway line also presented a strong reinforcement of that divide. In the 1950s, when my mother was in her twenties, she and her friends were caught up in the National Party's "reclassification" of people, along so-called racial lines. She tells me how families were split in two, as the fairer-skinned ones, who could "pass" for White, accepted the label and all that went with it. Now THAT is something I will NEVER understand! You are born into a family, you have your parents and your siblings, and you are their close blood relative. A savage, dehumanising political system affords you, based on genetically-determined variables like the number of pigmentation cells in your skin and the texture of your hair, the opportunity to denounce them and your entire personal and social history, and live a lie,...... and you go for it! Huh?!!!

Now, to those people who crossed the line in that short-sighted, unfortunate way, I have a few questions that I've been wanting to ask for many years: how do you feel today? And what did you say when you were asked about which schools you'd attended, or where you'd grown up? And if everyone knew that you were from a "non-white" family anyway, who exactly were you fooling by living as an imposter? And how did you justify to yourself the conscious choice to live as part of the privileged minority, which thrived at the expense of the underprivileged masses, knowing that your own mother, father, sisters and brothers were on the receiving end of the bigotry of that very minority you had insinuated yourself into?

And so I concluded my walk, crossing the line once again, turning my back on the tranquil, leafy suburb (where, by the way, I'm quite ok with saying I would love to live, because my theory is: everyone deserves to live in such tranquil surroundings!) and walking the few blocks home.

I had achieved a lot: I had had some much-needed exercise, I had breathed in lots of fresh air, I had had some solo time, I had tossed about quite a few ideas, and I had crossed the line, in more ways than one.

The Number

So I decided to fiddle around and give my blog a facelift. This is fun - I'm sure I'll do it many more times, now that I've discovered how.

Scary reality-check moment today - fraught with images of my body being coerced into untold torment, in pursuit of a physical ideal I'd not only never had, but had just about lost all intentions of aspiring to - when I stepped onto the scale, after years, and saw..... THE NUMBER!!!!! (Blood draining from face!). Without supplying too much detail, let’s just say it was ….. um …. a round figure!

This is how I choose to address this challenge: it took me many months (actually, years) of dedicated overeating and lack of exercise to achieve my current shape, and so I grant myself many months in which to achieve the reverse effect. Wish me luck.

This is one of the three hardest things for me to assimilate/deal with/understand/conquer, but I am committing to something or other - I'll figure it out (so to speak) in the bath tonight. Actually all three challenges start with an "M" - we're talking Mass, Men and Money, and not necessarily in that order!

Thirsty

I had a very interesting (there's that word, again!) gig on Saturday. Wayne and I did a whole bunch of songs we hadn't done before as a duo, and once again, I did a few that I'd never sung before. I've started recording the gigs (on cassette, until I can find affordable, new technology) and it's actually cool to listen to the recordings afterwards. I listened on my way to work, this morning, and there were some that came out really well. I'm going to have the recording put onto CD, and see if I can use it for marketing. We've been upstairs at The Food Lover's Market in Claremont for 15 consecutive Saturdays, and we've covered a lot of ground in that time. I've put together two entirely new files of songs since we started this gig. Now THAT excites me!

I'm also very proud of the fact that I did a whole song playing lead guitar, and even more exciting is that it was one of my own compositions, Cobwebs in Unusual Places. Yes, I played the melody and did a solo - a major breakthrough for me! I wrote it about two years ago, and it's actually a very serious song, dealing with different issues that women suppress, but it's a really nice blues piece, and it sounds very good as an instrumental, too. It's actually the first time I've ever done one of my songs that way. I still have lots to learn, but I'm oh so happy to have broken through that barrier with my playing.

The restaurant was a bit quiet in our last set, but I loved it, because I could hear every note we played and every note I sang. That time of the evening, depending on the crowd, we slow it down a bit, and get a bit more interactive. Earlier, it's just too noisy, so we tend to play with the awareness that people are busy eating and talking, and not really listening. The staff are very cool, though, and they always request a special song, which we did once again for them, with pleasure.

So, this coming Saturday, 17th October, we'll be back there, from 7 to 10pm, playing music to make you smile. Our repertoire has sort of settled into a 50-50 combination of jazz standards and music from other genres, and it feels like a good spread. Next week I want to do more of my own compositions, because I've been neglecting them a bit. Surely one of the points of having a regular gig is to expose your work to the public?

To be honest, I've got a huge thirst building up that needs to be quenched: to do a concert - to perform my original songs, old and new, to a new audience, putting my new energy (and of course the new duo) out there. I've been thinking about adding a bassist for the concert and possibly a percussionist. I have a fabulous venue in mind, and I think today would be a good day to start the ball rolling. Yes, why not?!

Watch this space!

For a reason, for a season

There is a saying (yet another!) about people coming into each other's life for a season, for a reason, or.... can't remember the third part! Today I am missing my ex-colleague, who moved to Dubai a month ago. My daily experiences at school, in the nineteen months we worked together, were usually punctuated and spiced up by witty comments from him. I was amused/delighted to hear, recently, that he'd told someone, "I like Trudy - she's also a Word Nerd!". (Broad, freckled grin!)

So, Mr. Juan, I see you've now become a 'Follower' of my blog. Someone told me she's been trying to become a Follower, but keeps hitting obstacles when she tries. If you can, please let me know if this is complicated or not. Maybe I should just try becoming an official 'Follower' of someone else's. I started blogging in June, this year, and I have TWO Followers!!!! It's a good thing I have a healthy self-esteem!

So, to my brilliant, very witty friend on the other side of the world, I REALLY REALLY miss you! And yes, the students still call me Mr. Trudy!

Trudy & Wayne gig, Sat. 10th October, 7pm

This was the e-mail I sent out to my network, advertising my gig for this coming Saturday. If you'd like to get onto my constantly-expanding mailing list, e-mail me at rushintrudy@yahoo.com.


Hi!

NEWSFLASH!!!!
TUNE IN TO HEART RADIO 104.9FM ON WED. 7 OCT. AT 11h30, FOR MY LIVE INTERVIEW WITH RAFIEK MAMMON.

Here's this week's update of my gig with guitarist, WAYNE BOSCH, at THE FOOD LOVER'S MARKET, CLAREMONT.

We'll be back there this Saturday, 10th October, from 7 - 10pm, doing our usual gig, three sets of live guitar and vocal arrangements of jazz, swing, Brazilian, pop and originals. There's no cover charge for the live music. There is, however, a great Saturday special, a 3-course meal + a glass of wine, for only R95. What's really nice about this is that there are a few yummy options within each course, so you're not stuck with dishes that you don't actually like.

Warning - the servings are huge, so pace yourself!

Ok, let me tell you about last Saturday: Rafiek Mammon, editor of The Next 48 Hours, came to review the restaurant and the music. He also works with The Cape Times, so the review will appear there one day this week. It will also be published in The Next 48 Hours at some stage. So, check out The Cape Times this week, for Rafiek's review.

The gig went very well; we set up in a different spot in the restaurant, which added some novelty. But even more exciting was the fact that we were serenaded by Cape Town's very own Stevie Wonder, Gary Naidoo, who appeared as our guest artist for the night. What a treat! Every couple of weeks, we'll be inviting someone to do a guest spot.

On a more personal note, it was heart-warming to see five tables of my friends spending the evening there. What can I say? Thanks to everyone for responding to my e-mails by either pitching up or forwarding them to your friends.

There's something about this quotation, attributed to the controversial Marilyn Monroe, that I both like and dislike:
"I don't mind living in a man's world, as long as I can be a woman in it."

Live your truth!

Trudy

http://alwaysrushin.blogspot.com

Affirmation

Today I just want to say that, as per my affirmation of the past year, "I'M LIVING THROUGH RADICAL, POSITIVE CHANGE!"

Heal thyself

Written Sunday 04/10/09

As usual, so much on my mind.

I read somewhere that you get a certain type of Virgoan, a personality type characterized by a strong need to record everything, and with a tendency to regard this record keeping as so important, that no event feels complete unless it’s been meticulously recorded. I seem to fall into this category, having been a keen ‘journaller’ since 1977. Initially, I’d just write keywords to record what I’d done on those days (I was a teenager then), but over the years it’s grown to be one of my main coping mechanisms, a vehicle for processing my thoughts and plans, my frustrations, my aspirations. Journals allow us to show the less socially-acceptable sides of ourselves. Yes, indeed. I have an irreverent sense of humour, and some of my notorious homemade jokes that never make it into the public ambit reside “un-ignominiously” within the pages of my many journals. There are two people I can tell my stupid jokes to, without ever being sanctioned, and they are my sister, whom I’ve known all my life, and who definitely shares this whackball side of me, and the other is my cousin and best friend. Both of them have the capacity to make me laugh from my insides out, you know that laugh where you can feel your face distorting, and absolutely nothing can make you stop, and long after you’ve left their company, you think about the joke and you start laughing all over again? Like when we were children and we used to go to church every Sunday – my sister and I would see something that would start us off, and then everything would just seem very funny. We’d be shaking and crying and sniffing, practically rocking the pew with our badly-concealed laughter, and my mother’s stern, disapproving glare would only make things worse.
I’m blessed to have two children who are both excruciatingly funny, which makes me wonder about genetics! My children’s dad is also hilariously funny, and my son, when in comedy mode, is uncannily like him, right down to facial expressions and body movement. He’s got that whole body thing that comedians have – Robin Williams and Steve Martin being prime examples.

On Friday I felt like I was going to have some kind of breakdown, after going through an immensely stressful period at work. I always say the systems and tasks are easy, but the people issues are the challenging part. Long, hectic story. I try not to, but I do internalize a lot of the stress I encounter, and it inevitably presents in physical symptoms like mouth ulcers and some stomach stuff. By Friday, I was badly in need of time out, and I let a good friend down, deciding to skip his birthday party because I desperately needed to take care of myself, slow down, be alone, process all the stuff I’ve had to deal with recently. It’s hard for me to juggle all my responsibilities, and my dilemma on Friday was: should I go to the party, so as not to let my friend down, and then sit with the unresolved emotions even longer, or should I look after myself, and trust that my friend would eventually understand? The most important thing is to actually commit to a choice that’s made for all the right reasons. No regrets.

I’m so glad I stayed home. I actually fell asleep with my pen in my hand, and my journal next to me! The point was, I’d had one of my long soaks in the bath, and then got straight into bed, and I ended up having a great night’s sleep, peaceful, restorative. I woke up the next morning feeling much lighter in spirit, and when I saw the fabulous weather, I felt the relief of having passed through a dark patch. (I haven’t blogged about it, for many reasons.) I decided to spend the rest of the day being good to myself, knowing that ahead of me lay the evening’s exciting gig. I went to my early morning hairdressing appointment, and then I drove to Kalk Bay, where I went shopping at some of the funky shops in Main Road, considerably rejuvenated by my new hairdo, not to mention the stunningly beautiful day. After shopping, I went to a quaint little restaurant and had a light lunch, an unlikely, motley trio permeating my reverie with guitar, sax and maraca renditions of even unlikelier tunes. I had to smile. The overall feeling was as if I had stepped right out of my normal life, and was on holiday in some exotic, foreign seaside village. I consciously gave myself permission to stop analyzing everything, and to simply enjoy the experience.

It is SO late. I’ll have to continue this at another sitting. Tomorrow my kids go back to school for the fourth term, and I cannot believe how this year has flown!!! My son’s almost finished his first year at high school, and my daughter’s almost done with Grade 5. Tomorrow the whole of Cape Town is on the road at the same time as me.

I’m glad I listened to my heart, this weekend. I should do it more often.