The waiting room of my physiotherapist has a stack of books on the table. None of which I would ever read, and I suspect neither would he, which is why they have been relegated to this purgatory zone of pre- and post pain. My foot, although mostly healed up and unfractured is still very stiff and range deficient. Which is why I am here…
I quite like my physio, although I see him less these days because I’m not fighting anymore. He’s a nominal Czech. I suppose in the same way that I am a nominal German, but deeply Africanized (like the honey bee). He trades stocks in his spare time and has all these investment properties in Prague. I LOVE Prague. So we have lots to talk about..
In any event one of the books on the table is Hillary Clinton’s ‘What went wrong’. I pick it up (for a laugh), the spine cracks audibly as I open it, I think its the first time anyone has peered within. I thumb through it without enthusiasm though before putting it down again. Ergh!
I have my own Hillary Clinton story. Well… kinda.
I’m not entirely sure when this was. She was Secretary of State… so… whats that, like six or seven years ago maybe.
I was on my way to work. (in Johannesburg) While early, the sun was up so it must have been summer. I was waiting at the traffic lights at this major intersection near my house so that I could get onto the highway.
Suddenly this police van comes screeching up into the intersection and comes to halt. A couple of policemen get out, body armored and assault rifled. The lights change, but no one makes a move. The policemen are herding the hawkers (that sell knickknacks like cell-chargers, and knock off Ray-bans etc to passing motorists) off to one side and telling them to get lost. This seems quite heavy handed for by-law enforcement I muse, but okay. One hawker is getting cheeky, he’s mouthing off at one of the policemen near me and is jovially walking backwards away from him, laughing and joking. The policeman is not happy about this and eventually unfurls his assault rifle from about his personage and clicks out the folding stock. I suddenly get the very real sense that this hawker is very much misreading the situation here…
The policeman stops and makes as if to turn and walk back to his fellows. He turns back suddenly and cracks the hawker with the stock of his rifle.
Hawker goes down. Between this cop and another cop they drag him and deposit him not particularly kindly into the back of their police van. The policemen get the traffic going again and I merge with the freeway traffic.
I’m still a little shell shocked from what I’ve just seen. It takes me a while to notice that there aren’t any cars coming in the opposite direction on the freeway. Odd. Then I see the convoy. The madcap motorcade. (maybe twenty vehicles, plus bikes)
Its only later that I find out its Hillary Clinton. She would have taken that off ramp to get to where she was going. They had obviously decided that informal traders and their kind were some sort of security threat.
I mean she had nothing to do with it. That was all local dynamics.
Still, I thought it was interesting.
My physio walks into the waiting room. ‘Hey Jo’. I hold up the book, eyebrow arched. ‘My brother in law, thinks he’s funny’, he says, ‘come through’.