Steve Reed sent a query aus Aussie in 2015: Any ophthalmologists on the east / North rand come to mind? My 71year-old brother Doug sounds like he has cataracts. Wants to know who to go see. He does not trust his optometrist anymore who keeps giving him stronger glasses (?what?). So he wants to go and see someone who is not the butcher of Bedfordview.
A reply From deep behind the boerewors curtain – even deeper behind it than Bedfordview came a dodgy reply, shamelessly rigging the tender in favour of family – a distant cousin: Clive Novis good for cats (this was his cousin Brauer speaking).
Five years later (2020) I was clearing out old emails and followed up to Reed and Brauer: Did Doug have his cat tracks whipped out? Surely yes, cos if you see a cataract surgeon . . .
Reed replied – and got the subject onto mountain bikes: Yeah he had ’em done. Some peer pressure from his wealthy cycling mates who were proudly pitching up without their spoogoos but yes he was getting myopic shift. His optom sent him after she could not improve his VA any more. After a lot of pre-op anxiety, his pressures spiked post-op – could not see and had to have a fair bit of treatment before it all settled down.
So wisely, he succumbed to peer pressure for the cataracts but not the $12 000 carbon fibre bikes. He is a wise man and his decisions are measured.
I responded, ignoring Doug’s drama and honing in on what was important: Bikes. Liewe bliksem. I bought my first bike in Westville for R150. Loved it. Then I bought a really nice GIANT hardtail for R2500. Now that bike I really loved and was very happy with.
But no. A canoeing mate went huge in the MTB industry (he still runs MTB trails) and he and Aitch decided Koos needs a better bike.
Koos did not need a better bike. The reason Koos wasn’t winning races was he was stopping to look at the scenery and pushing up hills. All hills. I still push up hills. All hills. It is undignified to ride up hills. Cyclists only look dignified going downhill.
So a spanking smart KONA arrives, made in Canada, shock absorbers all over the place. High-level Shimano gearset. A computer to tell me what I did. Never switched it on. I know what I did and I’d rather not record it.
Fuckit! Rumour had it at R17500. Not high at the time relative to what some were spending, but fuckit, R2500 spent years ago was my comfort level. Then I still had to buy cleats to click into the pedals. Now I walked like a doos when pushing uphills.
I faked joy and rode it. It was a softer ride, sure, but I was happy with the GIANT’s ride. Anyway, I’m a natural diplomat, Aitch had paid, be polite, thank you, love. It’s marvelous. Yes, it’s MUCH better than my old bike. Yes, I’ll be MUCH faster now.
And then I remembered a bit of empathy for Doug: Oper-fucking-rations. I don’t want none. ‘Pressures spiked post op’ – gives me the jeebies.
boerewors curtain – imaginary line separating normality from antediluvian thought processes; separates KwaZulu Natal from the throat-clearing hinterland, such as Tshwane, Gramadoelas, Boksburg, Benoni, Vanderbijlpark, Gotpietersrus, Bedfordview
spoogoos – glasses; spectacles; eyeglasses; from the isiZulu izibuko
$12 000 – R200 000 Souf African Ront so min of meer; R10 000 more than my Ford Ranger
so min of meer – fuckit
fuckit – goodness gracious me
doos – with an odd toe-up gait cos of cycling shoes
oper-fucking-rations – surgery; definition of minor surgery: surgery on someone else