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YourProfile
Name: Reginald Adendorff
Birthday: 16 August
Star sign: Leo
Occupation: Co-owner Suzuki Klerksdorp
When I look into the mirror every morning I think: Have faith!
My favourite people in the world are:
Motor sport enthusiasts
My favourite quote is: 'You only live once'
My friends and family make me laugh.
The greatest lesson life has taught me so far is:
Always be prepared for the worst . . . . . Anything better is a
Bonus!
I'll do almost anything for:
To spend a day testing with MotoGP Team.
When I get stressed I am most likely to take a ride on my
motorbike nothing clears my head any better.
I want my tombstone to read:
I think I would like my family to decide that!
I wouldn't mind being stuck in an elevator with:
Valentino Rossi
In three words I am:
Light hearted, easygoing, and down-to-earth
If I had a million rand to spare I would:
Invest it refer to no 5.
I live in Klerksdorp because:
Had to opportunity to open a SUZUKI branch 3 years ago and
loving it here.
The first thing I would save from a house fire is:
Cellphone and GPS
My nickname is:
Reg, Reggie
I love my job because:
My work is my hobby and my passion and that is GREAT!
LIFE AND TIMES WITH
COLLIN
The passing of an era
Last Friday saw the laying to rest of Robbie Prince. And he was
laid to rest in a style befitting his passion motor bikes. Or to
use the vernacular iron horses. They gathered from all over
Rustenburg, Joburg, Durban, Potch. It goes without saying that
there were a lot of local bikers as well. They were identifiable
from the insignia they wore on their leather jackets. It
reminded me of my army days. This however was a parade of a
different sort. To give Robbie his last ride. Not being a biker
myself, I thought the business pretty ordered a certain iron
dignity to it. There was something metaphoric in that collective
roar of the bikes as they thundered down the N12. Without
overdoing it I believe Robbie would have approved.
The service itself seemed to echo Robbie's lifestyle simple and
bohemian. Robbie wasn't extravagant in the materialistic sense.
Yet it was a full life, with no shortage of companions. A person
who was always willing to help others. Testimony to the fact
that he was well liked, was borne out by the amount of dark
glasses worn in the church. I don't think there was a dry eye
among the congregation. The pastor was at length to say that it
was okay to express emotion at a time of sorrow. Why do we
always hold back our tears? Surely it's okay to cry. Doesn't it
show respect for a loved one? I feel that we sometimes deny our
humanity on occasions like these.
Standing on the lawn outside the church after the service, I
tried to get a feel on Robbie' life. Friends who hadn't seen one
another for many years, greeted. There wasn't any of that
raucous backslapping: 'Can you remember the day the teacher
caught you smoking at the back of the bicycle shed?', type of
thing. Instead there was a subdued reverent atmosphere. The kind
of atmosphere that one finds at such times. Yet for all of it,
and in a paradoxical, not disrespectful way, I found myself
thinking about the I. Most of the people were about my age. Or
thereabouts. Hearing the bikes start up, I transported myself to
those times of my youth. Robbie, also spoke of those times. In
the twenty-odd years that I knew him, he often lamented about
the fact that the music of the sixties was real music. Not like
the plastic music of nowadays. I wasn't living in Klerksdorp in
those days. Those days for me were in Cape Town. But things
couldn't have been that different here. We must all have had the
same hang-ups: our parents didn't understand us; how we all
battled for the prettiest chick in the class; tried to grow our
hair as long as possible, without being caught by the principal;
or going out to a session, and sneaking back through that window
way past midnight.
What we did have and you couldn't possibly have had was surfing.
Or maybe you guys did surf with the wonderful weed of wisdom.
Whatever turns you on man! Either way it was a different time.
Jefferson Airplane co-founder Paul Kantner sums it up: 'If you
can remember anything about the sixties, you weren't really
there.' It's very difficult to encapsulate the sixties in a few
short sentences. Any attempt would in all probability fall
short. Possibly it was a time of attacking the established rigid
norms of society. A time when freedom took on a new meaning. A
philosophy of not accepting the status quo. However you looked
at it, there was a common defining thread that weaved itself
throughout that period music. Music that was embedded in vinyl
331/3 long playing records, 45-rpm singles and cassette tapes.
Music that was created through Fender guitars, Ludwig drums and
Marshall amps and speakers. You also listened to the latest hits
on Springbok or L.M. Radio. Music was the language, the
currency, if you will, of those times. The artists and bands
were endless. Space won't allow me to mention all. But some of
the favourites were: The Beatles, The Doors, The Rolling Stones,
Led Zepplin, Cream, The Grateful Dead, Janis Joplin, Deep
Purple, The Who, Sly and the Family Stone, Jimi Hendrix
Experience, Pink Floyd, and Bob Dylan. Any of the above was
bound to get my old man going, 'Turn that bloody rubbish off and
get on with your homework'. In a way, I guess that was how my
brother and I 'gauged' the popularity of the music in those
days. The more the old man raged, the better. To be fair, my old
man also enjoyed his music. He liked Jim Reeves. But he was a
lot older than us.
The watershed moment of the sixties was the Woodstock Festival
in 1969. Where it seemed as if the entire epoch was compressed
into one great final act.
It just wasn't the same after Woodstock. But the memories, the
nostalgia, still remain, and so they should. But we, like time,
move on. To new and hopefully better horizons.
After refreshments in the church hall I went home, put some Bob
Dylan music on, laid back, closed my eyes and gave thanks for
Robbie's life.
Robbie: May you stay forever young.
Chat again next week.
No resettlement but development for Venterdorp communities
Communities residing in Goedgevonden, Welgevonden and
Boikhutsong around Ventersdorp are not going to be resettled,
North West MEC for Developmental Local Government and Housing,
Howard Yawa reassured residents at a community feedback meeting
held on Friday afternoon.The meeting was convened by MEC Yawa to
report on geotechnical investigations conducted to determine the
suitability of the area for a R54, 6 million housing development
earmarked for the areas. Residents from the area burned tyres
and blockaded the road between Ventersdorp and Derby last month
in violent protest against delays in finalising soil and
underground tests for the housing development to commence .The
protests were suspended after Yawa's intervention and commitment
to put pressure for the investigations to be concluded.
“A contractor will be on site by the end of next week for the
commencement of construction of 1000 housing units from the
subsidies allocated to Ventersdorp Local Municipality. The
geotechnical report recommends that with properly designed
foundations, we could proceed with housing developments in the
area though it also suggests that construction should be avoided
in certain areas. It eliminates resettlement of the communities
but unavoidable relocation within the communities to provide
housing whilst avoiding the threats of dolomite “Yawa reported
to the residents. Yawa indicated that his department will
increase housing allocations annually to the municipality in
order to meet the housing needs of its communities. |
