It might seem unusual to start a tribute post with lines from a stop-animation cartoon. However, the 2022 Guillermo del Toro version of the timeless classic, Pinocchio, resonated with me and the relationships that I had with these three men in particular. Each of them could have been my ‘Geppetto’, who molded and carved me into the man that I have become.
Yes, I have made mistakes and only I can own those. But without mistakes would we understand why we are who or what we are? At 69, as I write this, I am still uncertain of that answer. Will I ever know if the path that I followed after I left school was the correct one, I don’t think so. I can only hope that what these three instilled in me was not in vain and once I follow them off this rock we call home, someone will perhaps, just perhaps, include me in their tribute post.
“Life is such a wonderful gift”…
“And so it was that we lived our lives, Geppetto aged, Pinocchio didn’t…and in time Geppetto left”
“He(Pinocchio) ventured into the world, and I believe the world embraced him back”
“What happens, happens”…
Just some of the lines at the end of the movie resonated with me and how I said goodbye to each of these ‘giants’ in my life.
All of the men in this post epitomized this…
From Macbeth, Act 5 Scene V…
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player / That struts and frets his hour upon the stage / And then is heard no more. Macbeth is saying that life is nothing other than an illusion. Life is like a poor actor who struts and worries for his time on the stage and is gone.
All these men strutted on the stage of my life, but rather than being forgotten, they are forever remembered for what they meant to me.
Several factors have caused me to relook at this Legion of gentlemen and how they have shaped my life.
First and foremost was the loss of one of my ex-radio colleagues to cancer at a relatively early age. Not unexpected as he had been sick for a while, but the end, although inevitable, was sad.
And if that was not enough, not one but two more colleagues are now undergoing cancer treatment and the prognosis is not looking good for either.
However, what finally pushed me to sit down and reassess my relationships with these stalwarts, was a newsletter that my sister-in-law had penned. For some reason, her dealing with the grief of the relatively recent death of her Mom( my mom-in-law) was the trigger that set this ball rolling…and in a good way
My Dad certainly gave me a good grounding in a variety of life lessons. Having spent 36 years with the same company he could not understand my reasons for changing jobs every couple of years! That aside he was always supportive of whatever I undertook…He also was instrumental in setting my future career, after I got a “proper job” to fall back on…just in case.
It was him that contributed to my love of theatre…and I was glad he got to see me perform in tights in a Shakespearean production at the Port Elizabeth Opera House.
My first recorded stage performance was in Macbeth back in 1966 when he would wait outside the stage door of the theatre in PE for my sister and me to walk across the stage…down a couple of stairs and into the waiting car.
Not an auspicious beginning as it was only a few seconds on stage, but it did lead to speaking roles in both English and Afrikaans productions.
My first professional role was a corpse for a touring company, for which I was paid to die at the end of Act 1 and spend the whole of Act 2 in a wheelchair under a sheet before being revealed at the end of each performance.
After completing an electrical apprentiship, I moved to Johannesburg to work as a stage electrician and later a lighting technician and designer. I never did get to perform in a professional production again.
After being held hostage in my home, I took to stand-up comedy and Dad did get to see me perform, although he did not really approve of my material.
I also have fond memories of his laugh, that had brought performances to a halt on more than one occasion back in PE.
He was to die suddenly and unexpectedly of a stroke and was gone in 4-hours on a Tuesday evening back in October of 2004.
I had called home on the Saturday and when my Mom answered the phone, I asked where Dad was. She explained to me that he was out and my response was “Tell him I say hi and I will talk to him next Saturday. But that never came, as the fateful Tuesday took that opportunity away from me. It was to haunt me for almost two years after his death. Why did I not say “Tell him I love him”? but, in retrospect, that was not the type of relationship we enjoyed.
I could go on about all that he meant to me and why I could have done more to make our bond stronger, but that will be for another posting or perhaps I will dedicate a book to ‘us’.
For now, I live with his work ethic and the gentle and empathetic way that he lived his life.
This was his favourite song, but it seems that he only ever sang the chorus:
Originally recorded by Mrs. Mills in 1919, Dad would sing it with gusto whenever he was given the opportunity.
My old man said follow the van
And don’t dilly-dally on the way
Off went the cart with the home packed in it
I walked behind with me old cock linnet
But I dillied and I dallied
And I dallied and I dillied
Lost the van and don’t know where to roam
I stopped on the way to have the old half quartern
And I can’t find my way home.
His legacy? When topics or situations got too tough, he would say “Kom ons praat van blommetjies” ( Let us talk about flowers) and that would signal a change the topic to a more palatable subject.
And speaking of ‘blommetjies’…
This plant is a hybrid succulent that was given to me as a gift after my Dad died. In a pot, lovingly designed and built by my wife, it lives outside our front door. With the exception of a two year gap, it has bloomed every year, with the first flower arriving on for shortly after the day of his death, October 4th. It continues to bloom into early December but has never lasted until his birthday, which was December 31st.
I miss him every day.
About a decade into my working life I had the pleasure of meeting Mervyn when I did a Dale Carnegie course in 1982.
He was the inventor(together with Beryl, his wife) of Flight hand-cleaner. And probably most positive person I have EVER known.
He was the living embodiment of the adage “In every crisis there is opportunity”.
No matter what the “challenge” he always looked for reasons to try again rather than give up.
Amongst other things, it was him that taught me to make “For” and “Against” lists for every decision…and then go with what ever came out on top
Unfortunately, I have no picture of myself in a suit as a tribute to Mervyn who was, perhaps unknowingly, my business mentor.
My corporate working life(short that it was) is a testament to what Mervyn taught me.
In 1990 he wrote a book about his life titled “Backyard to Brand leader” and his inscription in my copy is still an inspiration to me…
“David, What a privilege it is to have a dynamic, outgoing, enthusiastic and motivated friend like you. I really cherish our friendship. Thank you for your support and encouragement over the years. You are without a doubt one of the most professional people I have ever met, as such you are an inspiration to me. Your drive and determination are the qualities that are going to take you to success in whatever you tackle”
We ran many road races, did a couple of Iron Man triathlons and even tackled a Duzi Canoe marathon (which neither of us completed. I never attempted it again, but Mervyn went back and completed it the following year)
One year, coming into Durban at the end of a down Comrades marathon, I heard Meryn singing this song by Lonnie Donegan, at the top of his voice:
“Oh, my old man’s a dustmanHe wears a dustman’s hatHe wears cor blimey trousersAnd he lives in a council flatHe looks a proper narnerIn his great big hobnail bootsHe’s got such a job to pull ’em upThat he calls them daisy roots”.
It turned out, in the days before digital recordings, he was carrying a Walkman and a belt of tapes specifically chosen for certain parts of this long distance race. It was this song that got him to the finish that year and had me laughing for the last few km of my run to the finish.
When he discovered he had cancer, he did what he had taught me to do…made lists and he never gave up and until his last breath he believed that he had beaten it.
I read about his death in an obituary column while I was presenting a radio program. Needless to say that post seeing his death, there was a lot of music played to cover the emotions that I felt.
His teachings live with me daily.
And finally, for now, my long-time friend and the man who knowingly/unknowingly placed my feet on the path where I currently find myself.
Our friendship, which lasted for more than 40 years, started at the Opera House in Port Elizabeth and continued when John and his family followed me to Johannesburg in the mid-’70s.
I have so many stories of the time I spent with John and the family that I could fill a book.
His home was always a haven for me in times of stress and it was there I would go to chat about everything and anything while drinking many cups of coffee made either by his wife or his daughters. I think that he and I might have made a couple as well.
Never judgmental he was often the voice of reason for me.
And he taught me to build shelves…which are my lasting memory of him. Every house the family moved into had to have shelves built to accommodate his extensive album and CD collections. The most epic construction was a set of shelves that he built that had to fit on a curved wall! Wood was repurposed from project to project and the shelves were always painted white.
It was John who was instrumental in getting me my first job as a TV floor manager on the Miss World pageant in 1992. At that point, I knew nothing about television having only worked in live theatre. However, I went on to work on 6 Miss World pageants as well as many Miss South Africa productions.
It was this grounding that took me out of the theatre and into the tv studios around Johannesburg, which became my next career shift.
And it was also thanks to John that I got into radio, both commercial and community, and an on-air career that lasted for almost 25 years.
John had always enjoyed country music and he passed the torch on to me, as a result of which I took not one, but two trips to Nashville. It was there that I was able to negotiate with many of the record labels to supply me with music to bring back to South Africa where I would go on the start a country music radio show with John and when that station closed I went onto another station to host my country program.
As an aside, I remember our first broadcast together. The drive to and from the station was longer than the actual show! Given that we had been friends for a couple of decades at this point and were able to talk the hind leg of a donkey for hours at a time, it came as a shock to us both when the ON AIR light lit us and we both looked at each other and FROZE. The station manager who was doubling as our controller, went to a piece of music and in a severe voice said to us “This is radio…you HAVE to say SOMETHING.” Needless to say, that when the music finished we were ready to interact with each other and the listening audience.
“This song is called Alice’s Restaurant, and it’s about Alice, and theRestaurant, but Alice’s Restaurant is not the name of the restaurant,That’s just the name of the song, and that’s why I called the song Alice’sRestaurant.
John, every time I listen to a country track I think of you. And I cannot play Arlo Guthrie’s “Alice’s Restaurant” without having your face appear at a window in my mind.
I hope that you have lined heaven with shelves and that you can use new wood for every set that you build. And, you get to spend time with all your cats and dogs that crossed the Rainbow Bridge before and since you left us.
The Rainbow Bridge Poem
“Just this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.
When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.
All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.
They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.
You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.
Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together….”Author unknown
John my friend, you were a giant amongst your peers and you were a man that I was glad to call a friend.
I wish that we had spent more time together.
DEATH IS NOTHING AT ALL.
by Canon Henry Scott Holland
Death is nothing at all,
I have only slipped into the next room.
I am I, and you are you,
Whatever we were to each other, that we still are.
Call me by my old familiar name,
Speak to me in the easy way you always used.
Put no difference into your tone,
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.
Laugh as you always laughed at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me…
Pray for me.
Let my name be the household name it always was,
Let it be spoken without effect,
Without a trace of shadow on it.
Life means all that it ever meant,
It is the same as it ever was.
There is absolutely unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of your mind, because I am out of your sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval,
Somewhere very near…
Just around the corner.
All is well!
Dad, Mervyn, and John, a big THANK YOU for the part each of you has played in shaping my life in one way or another.
Were it not for you my life would have turned out very differently.
And that is really the story of all our lives…’What happens, happens’…
I hope that as you read this post, you will conjure up those who have been important in YOUR life and who have helped YOU to be who you are by allowing YOU to “Stand on the shoulders of giants”…
