ADDENDUM
My interest in how the myth of a lost city began led me to discovering how truly despicable William Hunt was – racist, trafficking, deceptive fraudster. It amazes me how people can still consider this guy great knowing that he patted a grown woman on the head like a dog and found it amusing to call her Black Beauty. In his embellished account of his travels in the Kalahari, he constantly mocks the lingo and accent of his mixed-race guides, and makes generalisations about Jewish South Africans. He could never get a story straight, and that's why nobody knows the real reason why he left the Union army during the American Civil War, or how he came to "adopt" his son Samuel. What one does know for certain is that while 60 thousand of his fellow Canadians gave their lives in World War I, and while 170 thousand others were injured or maimed in action, Hunt busy translated for the enemy, then wrote thirty books giving their perspective of the war. He first said he moved to Germany, then claimed he had been stuck there and forced to translate. Then he cashed in on the war.
Samuel was also deceptive, pretending to be a genuine crossdresser once he had been caught out over his character Lulu. Hunt's devout followers still believe this ruse. In reality, Samuel, within a space of weeks, ditched his wigs, cut his hair, grew his moustache, and wore suits again. Retaining "Lulu" as a nickname in the end was merely to keep up pretences. Samuel went on to agree with his "dad" that the Kalahari rocks they stood before and touched – which bore no resemblance to a city by any stretch of the definition or one's imagination – were in fact such.
Writing my second post The Odyssey was truly enjoyable. A classic, entertaining story; and a sentimental trip down memory lane. Last week, I helped look after my mother-in-law's place, and I read several more chapters of Jaroslav Hulak's re-telling, when my wife wasn't relishing in beating me at UNO. Hulak's re-telling is a page turner, and I recommend it to anyone of any age who wants to read a non-poetic version of The Odyssey.
As for my love of Star Trek, I am now into the third season of the original series, on Netflix, and often fall asleep at night to a Star Trek novel on YJK Audiobooks. If you are a person after my own tastes – Indiana Jones, Hardy Boys, Star Wars, Star Trek – now or nostalgically, can't go wrong with YJK on YouTube.
JULY
I thoroughly enjoyed the Club World Cup. I don't think there was one boring game. Even the final, while one-sided, still heralded three goals. Praise for Seattle Sounders' kit – green, blue, and white. Much better than the usual drab or standard soccer colours.
I was saddened to hear of the death of Malcolm-Jamal Warner. My father spent most of his life being grumpy and miserable, but my family and I all enjoyed The Cosby Show when I was small, and "Theo" was one of few TV characters that could ever get my dad to laugh or crack a smile.
AUNT'S 90TH
My Aunty Margaret recently celebrated her 90th Birthday at the North Star Micro Hotel in Umhlanga Rocks. Oom-shlung-guh Rocks. But you can get away with Um-shlung-guh Rocks.
My wife, Lynn; my aunt; me on the end.
Part of a whale skull that washed up on the beach. After the experts checked it out, the hotel was allowed to keep it.
Manager checks on my aunt while she chats to her son David, who very kindly paid for the whole thing.
View from the beach. Autumn, believe it or not. Although, winter has since kicked in. Rain and howling winds.