Month: September 2008


I work on two magazines at the moment and the one goes to print next week. No matter how organised I try to be, the last week is always mayhem. The thing is, I love it! I totally thrive on it. In fact, I think I may set it up every time. There’s nothing better than being busy… for a while. I’m not sure I’d continuously like to work at warp speed, but a week or two is good for me…

Ok, that all said… off to work I go.

Oh, by the way, I managed to turn my pics around so I’ll post them when I get a gap.



Okay, I know I promised photo’s from the play, but I’m trying to turn them round. At the moment I’m lying on my side in each photo. Did I tell you that I’m about to turn 36 and technology is starting to overtake me? I used to teach my Dad how to use the video machine (switch on, push in tape, press play?!?!) and now I have my nephews teaching me about all the cool new stuff.

I was recently asked to go onto mxit. My 11 year old nephew even downloaded it onto my phone for me… I remember the days when we used to just turn the crank on the side of the phone and hope that we got someone on the other line (okay, I’m not that old – allow me some hyperbole). But now I have a little piece of technology on my mobile that allows me to chat to people whenever I get the urge. First I have to “add” them apparently.

To make matters worse, a sixteen year old acting in the play overheard me talking about my new mxit addition. And he laughed. Apparently its funny that someone my age has mxit. Oh well, he’s added me apparently which means that as soon as I learn how to get into the programme I’ll be able to chat to him. Why he thinks I even vaguely want to talk to him now is beyond me.

Then, my art director walked into the office yesterday – she’s a freelancer so I hardly see her – in her very ‘Sex and the City’, gorgeous tan from a week away in some resort in some trendy place, listening to the coolest music on her ipod and a handbag that cost more than my house carrying all her designer gadgets, kind of way. Her first remark was “Oh my gosh, you’re looking so less grey, what have you done?”

I seriously have not done anything. I have a few grey strands peeping through, but I never knew I looked like Father Time…

That all said, I’m seriously fine about turning 36.


No, seriously…

a good ol’ ramble, by a self confessed rambler…

I’m such a fan of the American show ‘So you think you can dance’. I’m never home on Tuesday nights so I catch the re-run on Wednesday mornings (that’s usually why I’m late for work) and without fail I find myself laughing, applauding or shedding a tear. It’s kind of like gay rugby – jumping up and down, applauding the good stuff and appropriate tears of joy.

In fact, its time I just come out and say it. I just love reality TV. I find it riveting. I knew I had a problem when I first watched ‘Big Brother’ and found myself watching them sleep. I wasn’t that interested in watching them sleep, more concerned that as soon as I switched off something would happen. It’s that whole fear of missing out thing.

So, I watch ‘Shear Genius’, ‘Top Design’ and even ‘Age of Love’ (will he choose an older or younger women – I’m rooting for the aged of course). ‘Survivor’ and ‘Amazing Race’, ‘Idols’ (the American one, somehow the low budget SA one just doesn’t crack it) and my favourite ‘So you think you can dance’.

I used to dance in drama school, and even majored in choreography, but am fully aware that if I ever participated in a show like that I’d be the one on every trailer being laughed at by the judges for lack of technique and over-confidence. I so thought I could dance… the folly of youth.

Anyway, enough rambling (I called this blog Rambler Clive for a reason). Tonight’s opening night. I’ll let you know how it goes and hopefully get to post a few photo’s (I still have no idea how to do that). Its all about having fun – the show is a bunch of kids and us oldies trying to have a good time and remember the dream we had of standing in front of the crowd thanking God for our Oscar.We belt out hits from the 70’s and hope like hell people stay for the second act. Tonight will tell… can you hear me screaming internally?

And on a totally different note. The countdown is starting to my birthday. I turn 36 this year. I recently filled in a survey where you had to tick what age category you belonged to. It started off well (18-24), then picked up the pace (25-30), then sprinted towards the finished line (31-35) and finally crossed it (36-100). S’true. I fall into the “over 35 so your age no longer counts, you’re just old so get botox already” category. I know that at the stroke of midnight, as I turn 36, my usually admired rear will suddenly drop to the ground, the seven chins I try hide in photo’s will enforce their independence and every little “smile line” will etch themselves into my face with a chisel.

So I’m enjoying my 35 and under status while I can. After my birthday I may have to close the blog due to my arthritic fingers…


About time

I wrote the other day, but never got to finish it, so saved it thinking I could get back to it later. Well, I can’t find it anywhere. Its gone to blog heaven so I’ll start over again now.

The show opens tomorrow night. I have to say that I’m pretty excited actually. Its been such fun. Great people and a good vibe. I’m always attracted to people with passion – in fact, its usually the quality I find most attractive in a person, and that’s what I love about the show. Its a bunch of guys and girls who just want to do a play. Its not professional. They just want to have fun and get an audience to join in. That’s heart!

I still take my clothes off. So come along to see me in my underwear glory. I’m thinking of wearing a thong on the last night. I don’t have one, so maybe its time to invest. Hmmm, I’m starting to sound weird I think.

Then, my article . I definitely expected a response. I knew what I was saying was against the grain for some but I’ve been a bit overwhelmed by it. I’ve had so many mails and I just saw a few comments on the actual site. Most of the mails are from guys struggling with being gay, and some are from straight folk who love God but have been hurt by the church in some way. I’ve also had a few vicious responses. That’s okay, I never expected everyone to get why I did it.

But thanks for all the support…

Okay, off to get a magazine to print. Its almost deadline and I have so much to do.


I’m a keen fan of 702 (and Cape Talk when I lived there). I never thought I would be, but as I’ve crossed into my 30’s – late 30’s in a few weeks (this is me, screaming internally) – I’ve found myself drawn to finding out more about the world rather than just about me. In fact, and I’m only sharing this with you, I’ve even called into a talk show and ranted on about the issue they were discussing. Only once. I’m still cringing with embarrassment.

So why I’ve gone and put myself out there for all the world to judge is beyond me. A while ago a friend asked me to write about my experience – a small recount of how I reconciled being gay and being a person who believes in God and the Bible. I’d never put pen to paper and truly discussed my feelings and my experience, so it was actually a really difficult thing to do. But, incredibly freeing. The response I received from my friend was amazing. So much of what I went through was almost quite universal, something I never realised (I always felt so alone in it). A need to be accepted, a desire to connect with one person in an expression of love, and a desire to do the right thing – for ourselves and the higher power you believe in.

The letter was forwarded to a few and has now been published. I thought it was important to share the story – not to be controversial, but to somehow find middle ground. You see, Jesus never saw groupings of people. He never saw tax collectors or prostitutes. He saw individuals. One person who was on his or her own journey. The religious leaders saw a woman committing adultery and that meant death – no discussion about her circumstance – she became a “type”. Jesus saw a “person”, knew what was going on below the surface and asked the religious people not to judge (that famous line – you who is without sin cast the first stone).

I wrote the piece and published it so hopefully, people will see that there are human beings struggling to reconcile a very difficult issue. We’re not a group of rebels who’re trying to see how far we can push the boundaries. We’re just people, who happen to be different (and not out of choice). The article can be found here if you want to give it a read.

I know its a bit different from the tone of my blog until now… I’ll get back to the light hearted stuff in a bit!

Oh, this was cut from the beginning and end of the article – I thought I’d add it here.

Joburg Pride (a time when gay people take to the streets) is around the corner and I’m still not sure what I think about Pride marches in general. I have one friend who is totally opposed – her view is that it’s the one day we ask for respect and dress like idiots, and another friend who is on the organizing committee and militantly declares the importance of a day when gay people can meet with no threat and peacefully declare their existence.

I’ve participated in a couple of marches and am always interested in the media coverage given to these events. It seems that the relatively conservative gays are not interesting, so two guys holding hands are not that appealing for TV. Put a feather boa around their neck and suddenly we have a captive audience.

The TV camera’s also love the religious people proudly standing on the sidewalk with their ‘God hates fags’ posters. You know, he probably hates the way they dress more than he hates us, but it got me thinking. For so many years I grew up believing exactly that – that gay meant eternity in hell.

The words of John Wesley, the father of Methodism, bluntly said to a friend are the same words I say to all of those standing on the side of the pavement yelling that God hates me: “Your god is my devil”.

Blog Smog

Busy times!

Shoo, busy busy at the mo… will definitely get to the blog soon and add some juicy details. Just to say that I popped into Cape Town on Saturday and am glad I left as quickly as I arrived. The wind was so hectic, that because of the previous drenching I received, I arrived on the plane with a beautiful side mohawk that I struggled to get down the whole flight back… Thinking about you CT folk in the good ol’ Cape of Storms.