An idle thought from over the seas

The organisers of the SA Blog Awards 2008 have yet to announce the "celebrity" non-blogging judges of the competition. I wonder if the Raghunath will crack the nod? We all know that at least he reads blogs, which, I assume, is more qualification than most SA B-List celebs. And imagine what a spiffing tie he would wear to the awards ceremony!

Mahendra's Sunday Times

I see the Sunday Times carried a small little post about Mahendra's ties and Facebook groups, and the rigorous Mahendra Tie-Watch Project received a big fillip. However, they failed to mention this blog. They do quote Mahendra, though, and he refers to the blog, but doesn't mention it by name:

The dressing is part of my personality, and the bloggers and Facebook crew have picked on my little idiosyncrasies, the way I smile or look at the camera, my quirks and especially my quips at the end of the programme. (Sunday Times)

He goes further to say:

I visited the site to see what was said. I take the negative and positive in the same way. It’s a way to improve my craft and it’s worth looking at what people are thinking about my presentation and investigating areas of improvement.

Could this be the slow start to a movement which might lead to a television set for the Mahendra Tie-Watch Project Head Quarters? Or do I, like Guy Bennett, hope against hope?

The Mahendra's Ties Television Fund

No, seriously, this blog needs an injection of [chemical] or [propellant]. It is true that I espy Mahendra and miscellaneous newsreaders on occasion, but it's often by chance. [I caught a glimpse of him on Saturday evening: dark jacket, dark red/maroon shirt, stripy tie of dark hues.] But since the loss of my very own idiot-box, I haven't been in watch-mode and therefore was overcome more with a despair, reminded again that I have no television by way of which to follow the Tie-man. I have consequently been reading a lot and have become a bit more ruminative on the nature of things.

E.g. why does our man read the news articles with such - how shall I say - such wild diversion in tone, as if he is reading a story of some narrative and dramatic import? I mean, yes, news items do have narrative import and many, of course, are of high drama. But I feel that our man in Auckland Park needn't add such intonations as would render the telling of the tale as melodramatic performance. Of the older generation, I am quite prepared to have my news come to me in neutral tones - not droll, not droning, but some neutrality of voice will have me focus on the content of each item and not its delivery. Then I will leave it to media studies students to launch enthusiastic but ultimately formulaic critiques of the contradiction between neutrality of voice and its ideological intentions.

In any case, it is partly my fault: losing focus in my mission, straying off message, etc. It shows a weakness, yes, and I shouldn't let the redistribution of television sets become a major setback.

Alas, it has. I can't imagine myself strolling over to the local and asking the struggling proprietor to switch the channel from the football/rugby/cricket to the SABC3 news now, can I? There are not enough Mahendra-watchers yet to turn this television event into a moneyspinner such as a FIFA or FIA event.

So, apart from begging co-writers, who have their own moments, phases or seasons of rumination, to contribute more freely, I have decided, also, to suggest - quite reticently, reluctantly - to suggest... or, rather, I was thinking that maybe I should suggest a television fund to buy a television set of modest proportion. The kitty already sports ZAR16.00, revenue generated through advertising on this site - we could be well on our way if we can find a chink in the closed circle of no-TV-no-entries-no-readers-no-ad-revenue-no-TV. A television fund may well provide hammer, chisel, wedge and ramrod.

Dear reader, you decide.

Win Win Win!

A Mahendra fridge magnet to the first person who can tell us who the new cat reading the news is.

a) Gus
b) McFarlane

Wow! JC...

Indeed, I know Mahendra is the main man but JC stole the limelight tonight. This photograph does not do his tie justice, but let it be noted that his coal black jacket, white shirt and kinda silver white tie with pomegranate diagonal stripes was the picture of a gentleman. If a man showed up on my doorstep for a date dressed like that he could be sure to be invited in for a little Di and Charles.

Alas it is not all gushing. I thought the tie might have been a tad wide but could not be sure as it did not matter how I maneuvered myself around the television, I could not get a proper frontal view of the man - JC, give us a full frontal! And remember the cuffs, we want to see them.


Mahendra is not to be forgotten. He was wearing a Sunshine D yellow tie (or was it gold? Let's say Paris Daisy) on a Mystic shirt (play around till you get it).

I could not tell if the tie had a subtle pattern, I suspect that it did and that my old television did not do it justice. The Raghunath was in top form and rather jolly. Pen in hand he bid us farewell with a "Hope you have a lovely evening. Good night." I was planning to do just that when Top Billing sashayed into my lounge. Oh, how do I despise? Let me count the ways. For starters, I would rather be eating worms...

All quiet on the southern front

Yep, for weeks now I am at a loss at 7 p.m. Without a television, my nights are not entirely empty - I've got books, you know - but they are quiet. No news, no Mahendra, no Johendra. There is no Tsepiso, no newsbie perhaps. No longer is my screen suddenly dominated by an ill-chosen necklace that could have been a chandelier at a shabby-chic, quasi-Eastern-European tearoom. There are no longer the ties that bind Mahendra to me.

No, it's all bookish. With my chicken mayonnaise sandwich in one hand, book in other, I try and forget what I am missing. But so it will happen that I hear the faint but unmistakeable sound of a television next door. I strain my ears, even perhaps lean against the wall - no, I get a glass and use it as a stethoscope, but no luck. I cannot hear much.

Is it Mahendra I cannot hear? What is he wearing? By God, what is he wearing? Will someone just tell me...

All I can do is scroll through my few folders of old pictures of the Raghunath.

What does the M's tie have in common with Cape Town Restaurants?

After a weekend of good dining and feeling a little tired of Cape Town's faux summer I decided to peruse some restaurant menus on the web (really inspired by the "Dine 2008...where to dine" booklet).

I heard an old familiar voice emanating from my telly and spun around in my blue chair to come face to face with a blue knot, a super sized samoosa obscuring everything on the telly screen. Trying to find Mahendra behind the tie I realised with chilling insight that the Raghunath's tie knot was as inflated as 99% of the restaurant prices in Cape Town!

Ever so slightly horrified and in protest to make up for this weekend's excesses I will cook at home next weekend. Trying to find a balance I will invite RK and other gentleman attendees to dress in suitable attire, that is, ties knotted in such a fashion that I can see their pretty faces.

[Note: Despite the byline, this post was not entered by RK, but by AT]

The bearded one

Saturday, some chilli con carne bubbling on the stove, a lazy day at an end. Well, only got to bed at six this morning, after dinner at a decent Italian jobbie where the chef had no problem with me asking to convert the arrabbiata into puttanesca. Yum. My companion's artichoke and ricotta panzotti in sage butter was delicate in flavour, but quite rich.

Well, long after-dinner conversations fueled by some special whisky, swiss chocolate and cigarettes heralded the dawn. So, late day, some take-out for midday breakfast and here we are.



While I have had access to a tv, I have not spotted the Raghunath; but I have spotted much of the bearded one, on his way to another century no doubt. I must ask: what's up with the beard bro?


Is it to provide protection? To prevent the chin-strap from chafing at the chin? He looks so unbalanced, what with the bald pate and the afro under the chin - as if he might be upside down.

Shave it bru!

Friends, Raghunathians and Mahendrians...

while you thought I had grown lazy, nothing can be further from the truth. While I was away on the International Space Station, researching the effects of zero gravity on knotting ties, rogues took off with my audio-visual equipment, thus robbing me of a vital resource in reporting on the Raghunath. Thus the dearth in posts over the past few months as I spent the time in despair, robbed of the voice of the Raghunath and his spectacular ties.

I scroll through the archive on the blog, gazing longingly at pictures of the special one.

What is to be done!?

Thursday the 23rd August - Youthful spring look measured with old-fashioned accents.

No doubt Mahendra’s TV appearance and shout out to the blog still remains a highlight and is hard to surpass, but hopefully the ensuing anti-climax will be forgotten in the cool, fresh, sweet wind of spring.

Tsepiso was blossoming on our sets on the 23rd of August (please excuse the late posting I'm still figuring this out and i felt her outfit simply had to be noted) – the “spring is in the air” feel of the stem-green jacket, (which was mysteriously baggy around the elbows) complemented by the glowing flower necklace. An interesting diagonal tension was created by the asymmetry of the flower on the string, and the angled glance she keeps– revealing only half of her feminine, gently waved hairstyle. This dynamic tension brought to mind the flexible spring of a young green shoot, however, rather than a brittle, old, dry stick about to snap. The lace lining the top of the cream shirt was not a bad idea, however this off-white camisole could have been found in some box in the attic, accompanied by a couple of stained, old photos, a bunch of letters tied with a ribbon and a mysterious sporting trophy.

If you’re going to freshen up the heated newsroom in time for spring, let’s leave the vintage look at home, where it’s cold, because no one has central heating. Um, now can anyone tell me what was actually ON the news? Tsepiso’s blinging flower and purple eye shadow distracted me.