The evolution of the trouser pocket

Once upon a time all a man needed when he went out was a hanky in his left pants pocket, his wallet - either in the right front or right rear pocket and, if he was fancy, a comb in his sock.His wallet contained only money and perhaps a condom as the devil hadn't yet invented credit cards.
What a happy fellow he was and, he was able to scoff at the ladies with their silly handbags that held everything except the kitchen sink.
Sadly most women still carry those small suitcases but, no matter the designer label, they can't compete with
THE MANBAG
What do they keep in there you may ask, as do I. Let me guess
His wallet, cellphone, Ipod, Ipad, Wii, Swiss army knife, Leatherman, lip ice (I'm clutching at straws here) and perhaps a change purse.
I see younger men walking through the shopping centres wearing backpacks. Are they perhaps due to embark on a safari? going to gym? or do they have to carry a laptop, just in case.
Well, I vote for the bumbag, it's reasonably compact and doesn't hurt your shoulder. It seems that we're becoming slaves to gadgets and even though the love of my life has a modest manbag which he rarely carries,  I guess he'd be happier with just the pants pocket.
And no, he doesn't have a comb in his sock.

Whatever

I played hookey today. I decided to join Rowland when he went out to do collections. It was really good, sitting in the car, driving around on a "work day". It's almost like meditation, you sit still and comfortable and allow your mind to wander, noticing things along the way.
Alongside the freeway, in a large grassy area is a pizza oven. It's been there for years, sitting, all alone, no advertising board near it. I often wonder, do the vagrants have Friday night pizza, is there some secret Italian Pizza Clan who come along at full moon and have pepperoni pizza?
whatever.
It's good to see all the renovations going on in and around Cape Town, old buildings being given a facelift, they must feel so good.
On the way out of town, walking along the shoulder of the highway towards us was a man pushing a wheel chair. The cushion still had that sitting indentation hhmmm. "So tell me Sir, where is your patient?"
Eish
We stopped off at Canal Walk, managed to find parking and even found time to glare at the 40 something woman and her two teenage daughters who had just parked the Merc in the "Elderly" parking bay. We don't even park there and we ARE elderly - or so they tell us.
Rushing through the centre I passed an underwear store - his and hers. In the window was a set for him, matching vest and briefs with a twirly design on the fabric. Seriously? Do you want your man to look like a 1920's wrestler?
whatever.
I've just been visited by friends, he is very ill but doing so well and she is ever strong and supportive. What a good way to end the working day and week, on a happy positive note.

The best laid plans

We'd been talking about it for ages, finally taking leave. Thanks to all the public holidays by taking three days off work we could have 11 glorious days to ourselves. Wake up in the morning at around 7.30, stretch and say "Hmm, what shall we do today?"
HAH!
Fate has a wicked sense of humour.
Days one to four, pleasant, 
Danielle and Kelly slept over on Saturday, Easter Tea, family and 90 garments to embroider for a customer. As they say in Oz "No worries Mate".
HAH!
Tuesday, much anticipated, the first official day off work, we planned a trip up the West Coast to Paternoster, lunch somewhere and we wanted to buy some local jams.
01.05, the hot water cylinder burst. It's situated just a couple of metres away from Rowland's Mom's bed, we heard the electricity trip, the burglar alarm went off and she stepped out into a minor bog.
The love of my life is very handy and in no time he had water turned off, mom placated and we were back asleep by 01.30.
Santam insurance were outstanding and by 11.30 two hard working young men had removed the old geyser (not me) and fitted a new one. There was, however, a gaping hole in the ceiling. No prob. number one son brought over a piece of rhino board, he and Rowland hammered it to the ceiling and, voila, almost as good as new. Who am I kidding, just as Mom was falling asleep the board fell down!
Wednesday, public holiday, did some cleaning. Thursday the ceiling guys came in, Friday the carpet people were there. We were feeling so sorry for ourselves by then we went to buy an IPad2, do I really have to tell you they were completely sold out, everywhere. Wha, wha, their loss, we changed our minds and bought a fireplace instead. Who says retail therapy doesn't work?
Saturday morning the love of my life started embroidering some caps, of course the embroidery machine broke. Sob. He's nothing if not versatile and though it took about three hours, he (my Hero) repaired the machine.
Sunday morning, free at last, we went to Green Point and had outstanding coffee and croissant at Giovanni's, we'd been home for around an hour when I felt as if someone had laid into me with a hand made selection of sledge hammers. My thoat was sore, nose bunged up, running a temperature and with aches in every joint. I should point out that I haven't had a cold for some 15 or so years.
I took Daisy to have her nails clipped and popped into the only pharmacy I could find in that rotten part of town, I described my symptoms to the "pharmacist",  sore throat, aching body, headache and shortness of breath and really bunged up nose, thinking that I could have a bit more than Panado and Strepsils. He indicated that I was either (I promise this is true) having a mild .heart attack or an anxiety attack!!
I went home. got into bed and slept for more or less 22 hours. Dear sweet Rowland made toast soldiers with Bovril and looked in on me. Today I feel much better, why wouldn't I? we're back at work tomorrow.

Ooops

Silly me. As my loved one pointed out, Nokia make cellphones and Nikon make cameras. What can I say?

Above average?

I happened upon a list of the top companies in the world, I think it's based on their share value.  I've worked out that it's not just those with money who make a brand, the rest of us contribute to the enormous earnings of the big boys.
Here they are, from number one to number ten.
It seems your average family will drink COCA COLA, they'll have at least one MICROSOFT computer and perhaps something from IBM. Their appliances will be made by GE ( I believe once known as General Electric) and those computers the kids use will light up with the words INTEL inside.
The family camera will be a NOKIA and no doubt mum will drive a TOYOTA. Toys, clothes, funfair visits, movies and books will revolve around DISNEY and after a visit to the theme park they'll fill up on MACDONALDS before getting into dad's MERCEDES.
Happily I've also heard of the next ten and it seems a lot of folk bank with CITI and MARLBOROUGH man will no doubt have a few HEWLETT PACKARD appliances in the office. She'll use her AMERICAN EXPRESS card to shop and might even try to use it to buy a BMW for her dad. Her dad still uses a GILLETTE razor and her mum would love to own just one item from LOUIS VUITTON.
The neighbours are more interested in CISCO computers but of course, they drive a HONDA and have a SAMSUNG big screen TV.
Are we all totally predicatable? I know that in our home (and the driveway) we have ten of those products and we're just poor church mice.
P.S. Yes, one is a Louis Vuitton:)

Spiffy

What makes a spiffy dresser? I suppose it's in the eye of the beholder but to me, men can be spiffy, not women. Ladies are elegant, chic, tarty, whatever, but never spiffy.
Men in Speedos are not spiffy but a gentleman in a tuxedo, well, Sigh.
Today I saw a spiffy man, or perhaps his outfit was just plain Sharp. He was clearly someone with next to no income and yet, he carried off the ankle length (fake) fur coat to perfection, striding through the shopping centre like the emperor in his new clothes.
There's a beautiful young man I see at another centre, he wears skinny jeans, stilettos and usually a slim fitting blouse. His long dark hair in a ponytail he defies anyone to disapprove.
Liberace was not spiffy, nor was Sir Elton.
I do believe it's an inborn trait, you either have it or you don't. I remember years ago a short, fat, plain faced American politician who apparently could charm the pants off any lady he met yet, he looked like the kid the school bully would pick on.
I believe it's inner confidence and perhaps this.
Women rarely judge a man by his looks alone. For some, it's the eyes, the sense of humour, mannerisms, we
all have different tastes so, perhaps deep down, a man knows that he can more than get by even if he looks like the back end of a barn, as long as he's spiffy.

Where is the Love?

In Japan apparently. Timothy pointed out that since the earthquake and tsunami we've heard no reports of looting, rioting, attacks on the innocent. Just stories of people helping one another, accepting that life goes on and getting on with it. Men going in to repair a nuclear reactor, for heavens sake, knowing they may not come out alive. Heroes!!
I listened to a lady in the US lamenting the fact that General Motors spares may start to run out??? BECAUSE A LOT OF THEM ARE MADE IN JAPAN.
 Honda spares, understandable but GM??
Why is it that so many western countries have allowed local industry to fail? Surely there's at least a small sense of achievement to be had in knowing that you've produced an item your country can be proud of. Even, your area. I called to ask about a repair to my (once again) broken dish washer and was patched through to a call center in Johannesburg. It may as well have been Russia for all the knowledge the guy had about my area, only 3 kilometres from the repair shop I might add. Why? Why must a local workforce be sidestepped? Needless to say I found a local man to repair my dishwasher.
Please, wherever you may be, love your local music, local radio station. Support your community, neigbours and local workforce.
Who knows, one day we may be in the same situation as Japan, I'd like to think we can handle it in just such an adult fashion.