A fly on the wall…

CHRIS BENNETT has been doing some planning.

IT’S been an interesting week, not least because the telephones are working again, thanks to Telkom’s serious efforts, encouraged I suspect by a little nudging from one or two lesser gods.

Not, unfortunately, sufficiently to let me avoid burning a not insignificant sum on arranging insurance, through my credit card, for a coming overseas trip. I had to do the whole thing by cellphone, that invaluable and iniquitously priced boon of the 21^st century.

The young man in the card’s call centre, who could not have been more polite and helpful, abided by the rules, and quite rightly. However (have you noticed, there is always a however) this meant that he had to read the entire document to me over the phone.

Of course, he couldn’t read; very few people can. By read I mean read out loud and interpret what is written in such a way that it is intelligible to the listener. He didn’t and it wasn’t. Which is hardly his fault.

Now why this poor chap should have to read to me, for what seemed like an hour, something that neither of us could understand, is a mystery. O magnum mysterium.

The thing was written in legalese, probably by a committee, which had more than likely argued for thirty months over the wording. I could have read it in black and white and still not have been very enlightened.

I felt sorry for the guy when he finally got to the end; either of the document or his tether. Which, I am not quite sure.

Reading is a highly specialised field of endeavour. I trained for three years before I could read my way out of a paper bag, let alone through a ten minute news bulleting. And yet this guy was required by the rules, or so he said, to do this onerous task.

Worse was to come. My call to the centre of the universe, or wherever it was, was made on the dubious share call system. My share of the call, which brought business to the credit card, was R81. That was about a quarter of the cost of the insurance.

But at least the coming family reunion is now organised.

I shall be flying via Doha in the Middle East, the city which is home to my favourite TV news service, Al Jazeera.

Several South Africans, including a South Coaster, work at Al Jazeera. They include Mike Hanna, whose father, Arthur, was my department head at the SABC a long time ago. The last time I saw Mike he was still at school.

Then there is the excellent Jane Dutton, one of the world’s great news anchors who first appeared in the early days of eTV, if I am not mistaken. And of course another of my heroes, Anand Naidoo, from Port Shepstone. Anand is a broadcaster of huge talent and experience. He is now based, for AJE, in New York.

Which is where the reunion of the remnants of the family will gather. My brother lives in Brooklyn, near Prospect Park. We have very similar tastes in literature, music and food, which should be alright in New York. He is a talented cook, which given that our parents were bakers and confectioners, is hardly surprising.

CB

23/9/11

580wds