I had a dream, but this dream was so vivid, that up until this day, I cannot separate reality from the dream. I suppose that, at this stage of my life, I can lay claim to having Alzheimers light, as the saying goes. I will let you in on the dream if you promise not to spread this as gossip, keeping mind that I am not sure of whether this was real or not.
I have indicated previously that myself and student colleagues lived a life of penury … well, maybe not exactly penury, but it seemed like such a larney word for poverty to include here to show my erudition, which another larney word for intelligence! So, maybe not exactly poverty, but it was a broekskeur life for us, genuinely shoestring living.
During this period of political activity mixed with academics, testosterone and the mating cry of the young male being heard all over campus, there were a number of jolle or scenes held at the Cafeteria, which nowadays I understand is known as “The Barn”. I learnt the latter from a recently qualified law student (see, I have friends in places, people!). A number of good musicians of the day played there, sometimes to raise funds for baling activists out of jail or just for the hell of it. Some names to remember include Pacific Express, Jonathan Butler, Zayne Adams, et al. I marvel and admire the young but poor Jonathan I saw then, as opposed to how he made a success of his career to date!
Back to the dream(?). So there we were! “We” shall remain anonymous in order to ensure the wheels of present day academia and industry run smoothly on publication of this missive. And, as per the penury, what poor vittles we had in terms of ethane-1-ol or ethanol (alcohol to the pub crawlers), finally ran out. Finish and klaar, in the words of a previous police chief.
Now, it is not only that we had run out of the utshwala, but also that our pheromones, being of the weaker type, we needed a boost to attract female attention to our table. How else do you get to pollinate without attracting bees to the flower? If it were 40 years later in the space of social media, I would have been able to call on some friends such as OBS Newspaperman or some of his fellow sherry swallowers! Would we now have to rely on our own version of skokiaan at short notice?
But, being in the company of itinerant chemists, biochemists (most important of the lot), physicists and some physiologists, the dream threw up a cloud of smoke, into which appeared an apparition in the form of a chemistry laboratory store, locked though it was!
Let me digress at this point. It may seem that we did not have female company at our table or during our lives as students. In actual fact, we were a mixed, happy group. But the key issue was that, as opposed to most dances schools one could attend nowadays, the ladies were far outnumbered by the males in the group, hence the pheromonious frenzy. And let me further say that the beauty and vivacity of said ladies in our group was superb, but too little to go around. In addition, they mostly had romantic relationships outside of our group, even though we were close friends.
So, getting back to where we were! How to resolve the hooch problem. T recap, my dream suggested that the chemistry store was a possible solution this late at night, something that would also negate the need to travel to a tavern of ill repute just down Modderdam Road.
And now things become even fuzzier in my mind. I do recall a sliver of an idea that we should approach the keeper of the keys of Fort Knox to assess the feasibility of obtaining a small donation of absolute alcohol to assist with our dilemma. At this stage my memory has seized, so now I will fabricate what could have happened. It might have been that a forward party was sent to scout out said store, upon which it was found that the keeper of the keys was on the premises at that late hour with a stukkie! This led to a compromise: give us the loot and we would not report this. Said loot was delivered.
If this had happened, we would have been bomb happy. As I am sure we were. I am just reminded that I should caution against doing this at home since there are different forms of alcohol, including methanol, imbibing which may leave you blind, or dead, which by implication also means blind. A more scary one is rectified spirits, which is about 95% ethanol with 5% other stuff which may not be good for your health.
But ja! Maybe this was wishful thinking or day-dreaming or …. who knows!
p.s. Again, do not dream, as we did , of drinking this at home!
Ramblings of a Rambler 