#gladitsgone

I don’t know if it’s just me but, um…

I was one of those kids that was raised painfully polite.

I was taught to say aunt and uncle, mister and miss, but only when the adults were quiet and there was a proper break in conversation, but preferably never, and then only in self-defence.

I was taught that it’s rude to point.

I lived in a constant state of anxiety in public spaces forever after, and became a hermit just so that I would never encounter strangers who would ask for directions.

I found ways to shop online before the internet was even invented, and so you can imagine how I for one, welcomed the age of GPS. Problem is I was already like one of those “lifer” inmates that gets released from jail and then finds it almost impossible to integrate into the ebb-and-flow of life again.

Almost…

All because kids should be seen and never heard.

Which of course makes me deliriously thrilled about the banning of corporal punishment in South Africa.

But I digress…

The reason – which for now will seem disconnected but I promise to neatly resolve – I mention this all is, I’ve fallen in love with internet radio done right, in the shape of radi0.garden.

It started as a research paper and became a thing, and what it is, is:

Using a Google-earth scrollable interface you can take the globe for a spin with your mouse or your finger on a phone or tablet, and in seconds be listening to anything from post prog metal in Latvia, to Hindi new-wave pop in Helsinki, to boere musiek in Argentinia.

No shit but that’s cool.

And it’s FREE with none of that credit-card with zero charges, or, social/google “one-click” signup (big brother) bullshit.
(I mean, please tell me you don’t actually do that…?)

ANYWAY…

I was listening to these guys broadcasting out of St Petersburg https://radio.garden/listen/shok/lypD3AfF

They have good rocking tunes, including Russian and other, other-language rock bands that you never get to hear through mainstream media.

And then, just as I’m about phone my mate Fabian, they play a song…

And suddenly I’m back in high school, standing on the edge of the disco in Std 8, awkwardly aware that I have a body and so do girls, and feeling the pressure of needing to be in a relationship with somebody but unable to approach those I was attracted to. Conditioned to be meek and timid and polite and reserved.

The girls who were pretty to me were too bold and too confident for me. I was

Too polite
Too self-aware
Too awkward
Too ill-equipped
Too…

Well, I’m still a hermit, because I love tranquil spaces. But things have changed and I’m 47 now and through with living that bullshit hold-it-all-back-and-keep-yourself-reserved life.
I won’t be confined by being too anything for anyone anymore, and least of all by myself and by the corporal conditioning that was nothing less than lazy parenting and unwillingness to engage.

I have a wild childhood to make up for… so I don’t know how deep this thing goes.

To you all, it’s ok if you don’t like me sweetheart.
There are tribes for everyone…

ANYWAY…

I digress again, so let me close.

Hearing this song again in such an unexpected source was hilariously contradictory, but also brought a flood of memories home again.

Michelle van Zyl. Std 9.

For a long time, this was one of the top, high-school disco, for-the-inept-in-the-dating-dept, rescue songs.

I know.

It rescued me…

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