The sun is shining on South Africa. South Africa is home to the 2010 World Cup. And the world it getting a glimpse of a South Africa they may never have seen...or heard before.
Have you been watching soccer's World Cup? Of course you have...viewership in the States has doubled since the last Cup four years ago. If you have, you know about the vuvuzela controversy. If you haven't, you should tune in to see just what I'm talking about.
A vuvuzela is not a lady's hoo-ha. No, no, no that's something else altogether. A vuvuleza is a plastic one-note horn. And do fans blow them when there's a goal or a fabulous play? No. No? That's right they play them constantly from the opening minute throughout the game and into extra minutes.
To the viewer it sounds like your watching, or listening to, a giant bee-hive. Oh, and it's very, very annoying. They are annoying to the point that there have been discussions about banning them. Players have complained that the noise is constant, deafening and it puts them off their game.
The vuvuzela is not unique to South Africa. If you listen carefully you'll hear the odd honk at a baseball or football game. But what is unique is the sheer number of them at each match. And the sound that sheer number makes. It's as if those people doing the honking never take a breath. It's unbelievable. As a result, there's no passion in the game. There's no "oooh" or "aaah" over a great play. There's no explosion of "yaaaahh" when there's a goal. There's no chanting, clapping or singing.
Just this bloody, constant "mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm"
for 90 minutes.
But don't take my word for it. Listen for yourself...
It's like the song "Flight Of The Bumble Bee", except played on a trumpet with one note...and the trumpet player's on steroids!
Soccer will never be the same.
Did I say the sun was shining on Africa? If you want my opinion you can take your bloody vuvuzela and stick it where the sun don't shine.
Bob and Brenda worked in the supermarket. They weren't check-out clerks. And they weren't stock-boys. Brenda sure wasn't. And they weren't employees who worked in the fish section or the deli. No. They were on the shelves.
They hadn't been on the shelves very long but in that short time they'd developed a considerably close friendship.
The chatted all day when the store was busy and at night when the store was closed. They talked about everything. The talked about what raw products they came from. The talked about their manufacturing processes. And they talked about the long routes in semi-trailers that brought them to this store.
Oddly enough the one thing they never made clear to one another was just what product each of them was.
One day when Brenda was commenting on their friendship she told Bob she was grateful for their amity. "Are you Tea?" said Bob, pekoe-ing her way. "I thought I was Tea". You're coffee!"