Bafflement!

I get baffled, do you?

I try to understand how things work and always have done; as a child I was constantly picking up anything that was lying in the gutter or on the pavement or anything washed up on the beach.

If it was money I either pocketed it if it was a few coins, a farthing, a penny, a halfpenny, a shilling and even a half-a-crown, but if it was a note I was a good boy and took it to the local police station and told them where and when I found it.

I became well known at the cop-shop and the desk sergeant always greeted me, “Whacha got t’day Cess?” was his usual greeting, as I dived into my shoulder bag and handed him some expensive looking item, like a watch, I’d found on the beach.

Anything that looked like part of a machine or something electrical always fascinated me and I kept it for further inspection.

It would go into my Grandad’s workshop and it was there I’d attempt to dismantle it and fathom out its inner workings. Back in the nineteen-fifties there was a lot of junk lying on the beach. After a heavy storm was the best time to go collecting as the violent waves cast many a large item onto the sand.

Today it’s plastic and more plastic!

I once found what today you’d call an out-board motor, probably from an old dingy, it was too heavy for me to lift, so I dragged it up the beach as far as I could, before I scuttled off to Sergeant Ramsbottom at the cop-shop.

It turned out after a bit of detective work by the Plain-Clothes-Fuzz, that the motor was from the local life-boat station at Fleetwood and I got my first mention in the local rag, the Blackpool Evening Gazette. They didn’t let me keep it because their mechanic said it could be repaired. But it did get me interested in the inner workings of motors.

I side-track for a while and offer a bit of information I have gleaned from Wikipedia.

Wikipedia tells me that in maritime law flotsam, jetsam, lagan, and derelict are specific kinds of shipwreck. The words have specific nautical meanings, with legal consequences in the law of admiralty and marine salvage. A shipwreck is defined as the remains of a ship that has been wrecked, a destroyed ship at sea, whether it be sunken or floating on the surface of the water.

It goes on to say that the Law of Salvage has its origins in the Roman practice of “negotiorum gestio”, which dictated that one who preserved or improved upon the property of another, was owed compensation from the owner, even if the service was not requested by the latter. The law did not apply to maritime regulations, but were the basis for following ordinances, such as the Marine Ordinance of Trani, which stated, that a "finder" was to be rewarded, whether the owner claimed the goods or not.

The laws have evolved since “negotiiorum gestio”, and today, in the United States, a salvor who voluntarily brings the goods back into port may legally lay claim to them, or deliver them to a marshal, in return for a reward.

Had I known that then, that in terms of maritime law, the definition of flotsam pertains to goods that are floating on the surface of the water as the result of a wreck or an accident. As there is no clear way of defining ownership, one who discovers flotsam can claim it, unless someone claims ownership to the items in question.

Back in nineteen fifty-four or so, I did not know this.

So, my reward turned out to be a great learning friendship with Steven Hardcastle, the mechanic at the Fleetwood life-boat station. Unfortunately, not much of what I learnt has remained in my ageing-hard-drive and I never continued my interest in diesel or petrol driven motors, but the knowledge I picked up from my grandad, the electrician, has stayed with me.

So, today I sit with two electric discarded washing machine motors, the first motor was dealt with in my previous posts and it was not from a washing machine. It was a machine-bench motor and was easily fixed so that it could be given back to its owner, Keith my friendly plumber, who wished to use it as a grinder on his work bench.

As my reward he gave me the two old washing machine motors with the directions that if I fix one of them so that it would work on his water pump, I could keep the other.

My mind is at present baffled!

I have done all the necessary multi-meter readings that are necessary to find the starter winding and the running winding and have managed to get both motors working, but one of them will only run in an anticlockwise direction even when I reverse the input polarity.

This is perplexing.

As usual I have made use of the informative world wide web and now all the knowledge I gained as a youngster is in the fore-front of my ailing hard drive, but I am still greatly perplexed.

I have even tried a few slugs from old Toddie and taken a sleep on it, but the riddle remains as to why I can’t reverse the spin of the motor. And suddenly at eight o’clock in the evening my cell phone rang,

“Eh hello, how are you?” asked a young female African voice that I did not recognise.

I gave my standard sardonic reply, “I’m still here.”

It fell on deaf ears, so I ventured, “Who’s that?”

“Comela from Isithembiso, did you get the script?” said the voice.

“Oh yeah, I did get an email this afternoon, a script, but I thought it was a mistake. I was last in Isithembiso over a year ago, played a vice-chancellor for two calls and then my agent told me you’d written my character out.”

“Eh, well, … we need you tomorrow. Pick up at nine o’clock and you should be home lunchtime,”

I was now doubly baffled, electric motors and Isithembiso.

So, a night’s sleep and I waited at nine o’clock for the pick up to drive me to the studios where Isithembiso was being filmed. A safe and speedy journey by the driver Katleco, and I was escorted to the wardrobe department to be informed that I needed no costume as I was only here for a voice-over. I could have told them that as I studiously read the script I was emailed the previous afternoon, so Katleco guided me up another flight of stairs where I was greeted by Beezy, a second assistant director who I knew from shooting in the series the previous year.

“How are you Cess?”

Standard rely again. “I’m still here thanks.”

“Good to see you, you’re here for the telephone voice-overs?”

“It would appear so.”

“Tea, coffee?”

“Rooibos please no milk.”

“We’ve got a smoking room, if you’d follow me.”

“Great.” I replied as I followed Beezy to a two-metre square windowed room, “I’ll go back downstairs and sit outside if that’s OK?”

“Fine”, he replied, “I’ll bring your Rooibos.”

I found myself a plastic chair, pulled out Harold Courlander’s book on the Treasures of African Folklore, an excellent read by the way and picked up my perusal of chapter three, which I book-marked with an old liquor-shop-slip.

About five minutes later Beezy returned bearing my tea, “You never drank rooibos before.”

“Doctor’s advice, they say it helps lower the anti-oxidants in your blood.”

“Oh…...” he replied, looking as if he was about to ask what anti-oxidants were. “I’ll come and fetch you when they need you.” he said departing across the parking lot.

An hour later I was back in my abode having sat in a studio and duly recorded my telephonic voice-overs with a lanky sound assistant reading the other character in what can only be described as African-Broken-English. The director seemed very satisfied and I was escorted by Beezy back to Katleco who was waiting in the car to drive me home.

I’ll elaborate on my findings at the Isisthembiso set in another post, but I can tell you that nothing has changed since back in 1974 when TV was first broadcast in South Africa. A case of learning from one’s past masters, except the past masters made numerous mistakes but they did a better job at hiding them than the present TV production teams. I questioned several senior schedulers as to whether I would be required again soon. I was told probably in about ten day’s time. When I returned home I phoned my agent to enquire if he had heard anything, the short answer was no!

Time to confront my other bafflement, the motor.

I rechecked my temporary wiring and made sure no naked wires were hanging about, satisfied that all was safe I supplied power, the motor ran perfectly in an anticlockwise direction. I reversed the polarity and lo and behold the motor turned clockwise. A double dose of bafflement engulfed me. I had changed nothing from my last test and yet the motor had been reversed, I tried a second and third time switching the positive and negative inputs and each time the test was perfect.

I took a slug from Toddie and convinced myself that I had not changed any connection. Finally satisfied I phoned Keith to tell him he could come and pick up his motor. Wrote down carefully the wiring connections for clockwise and anticlockwise rotation and awaited his arrival.

While I waited my mind drifted off onto the memory I’d recently had with my lap top. About a week ago I suddenly could get not reaction from my task-bar at the bottom of the screen. I duly clicked on Microsoft help button and made a post of my predicament under the “System failure Forum”. Within an hour there were three replies offering various solutions. None of which I could understand, and I did not want another bafflement!

So, I pressed hard on the power button and kept it pressed for about thirty seconds. I then switched it on again and it worked perfectly, my task-bar was working normally.

The end of Bafflement!!

Another Back-Slapping Event

It happened today, a Saturday.

It started at about eight in the morning when I went in search of a DPDT electrical switch. That’s a double pole double throw switch to the uniformed.

I needed this as the Metop rotary switch that I worked on last week did not function correctly. It reversed the polarity I needed to feed to the motor’s starter winding, but as soon as I switched it on it tripped my Earth Leakage, This confused me but I soon figured out that I was connecting negative to positive at the starter junction, I spent some more time on the fact-finding internet and discovered I needed the DPDT switch specially designed to reverse polarity.

I decided on paying a call on an electrical wholesaler, who I knew stocked most items required when one re-wires a house, I’d visited them on numerous occasions in the past and they were very agreeable to a ten percent discount if you paid in cash.

It was a twenty-minute drive over to Albertskroon and I said hello to the manager, Adam, a very affable Asian chap. I had waited till the weekend as I knew on Friday he would be closed, as he had to attend his Muslim lunchtime rituals, which sometimes extended well into the afternoon with a feast of assorted samosas and kneeling to the east.

“Hi, how’s it Adam.”

“Can’t complain,” he replied, “what can I do for you Cess?”

“I’m looking for a DPDT switch so that I can reverse the polarity to the starter winding of a motor to get it spinning anticlockwise,”

His jaw dropped, conveying that he had not the foggiest idea what I was talking about.

“Sorry, what’s that?”

“It’s a switch with six terminals, two for the positive and neutral inputs, and four others that you cross-bridge, and then you take leads to the motor you wish to run in reverse.”

He still looked none the wiser.

“The guys that know all that stuff don’t work on a Saturday, I’m sorry.”

“You got a computer? Google a DPDT switch.”

“OK,” and he ambled to the far end of the counter replying in about twenty seconds, “Oh I see. Ja, an illuminated rocker switch, off and two ons.”

“That’s what I want, you got?”

“Err…... no. I have seen them in the shop, but not in a while.”

“Oh, well that’s great. Can you help me with ten 4mm ferrels, ten 10mm ferrels, a 2 x4 metal box, and a blank 4 x 4 bank cover plate with the skeleton behind it.”

“Plastic or metal?”

“Whichever is the cheaper.”

“Plastic, only twelve Rand,”

“That’ll do. You can tot it up, thanks.”

“All in all, forty bucks, cash?

“Great, yeah. Do you know where I might get a DPDT?”

“There’s an appliance repair shop near the Checkers just down the road and a Cash-Crusaders, right next door and there’s Mickles. You could try them.”

“Cash-Crusaders, they’re a porn shop, aren’t they?”

“Ja, but you never know.”

Paying my forty Rand and exiting with my plastic bag of goodies I departed, “See ya Adam.”

Another four-minute drive to the Checkers site, where I found Cash-Crusaders, the appliance repairer, but not a sight of Mickles. Even the parking attendants had never heard of it and the Cash-Crusaders didn’t open till nine o’clock. I ventured into the appliance shop to be greeted by a smiling young African lady. We exchanged pleasantries but when I mentioned the DPDT switch she gave the African reply, “Eeeeeeish! The boss will be coming soon”

I departed.

My ageing grey hard drive was perplexed, I rebooted with a slug from Toddie in my bakkie and stretched my memory to a past time I had been in this area, when suddenly another electrical wholesaler sprang into my head. It was on Ontdekkers Road about ten minutes away, I steered the bakkie in what I thought was the right direction.

Wrong.

I ended up in the back streets of Albertskroon but facing me was a very large hardware and building depot which sported the huge sign which announced, “Electrical goods!”

Worth a try I thought, and I sauntered inside to be told that they didn’t have a DPDT switch but I should try Kelec Electrical about two kilometres further down Ontdekkers Road.

“Its number is 360 and Ontdekkers is just around the corner.” Said the over-weight salesman. Feeling elated that my navigational skills were still OK  I climbed into my bakkie and headed off to Kelec.

Ten minutes later, and I was clutching the switch that cost 38 Rand, a bargain!

I drove to my abode dumbfounded that it was only half past nine and set to change into my acting-electrician wardrobe.

For me to now go into the intricacies of my use of the angle grinder, drill, pliers and screw drivers, Phillip’s and straight, ferrels and insulation tape would probably bore you, but I do have to mention how I Magyvered the plastic 4 x4 cover plate so that I could insert my DPDT switch and end up with my completed project.

This required the use of my drill with a three-millimetre bit.

I carefully marked, with a black Cokie pen, the cover-plate with the dimensions of the switch and starting in the centre, I drilled out a rectangular hole. This a tedious job as making a rectangular hole with a round drill bit is like a child trying to fit a square peg into a round hole, almost impossible; however, with the use of a Stanley knife blade the task was completed.

The 4 x 4 box on the left houses the DPDT switch and joint-bar for electrical connections, the wires coming out lead to the starter winding and the running winding of the motor, a brown and blue to each winding, and the recycled double-switch on the right, from my scrap box, is the mains switch for the whole set-up, cutting off both the live and neutral wires, which enter the 2 x 4 box on the far right.

The whole operation, on display below, took approximately four hours and after several test runs of the motor making sure it ran correctly in clockwise and anti-clockwise directions.

I felt the need of a bit of back-slapping and self-administered congratulations.

I refilled my Toddie with some Groot-Marico mampoer I had saved from my trip to that Charles Herman Bosman part of South Africa and had a stupendous, well-deserved back-slapping and thirst quenching time!

Back-Slappping Gleeful Delight

I have discovered that as your age increases, and you enter your senior years, the discovery of how to do something becomes extraordinarily exciting.

In one’s youth the learning that confronted you at school and on through college or university, if you were fortunate enough to climb the educational ladder was a tedious affair.

 You were confronted by either teachers and lecturers you loved or hated. They gave termly tests and exams at the years end which you dreaded, and then gave gleeful sighs of relief when you learnt you had passed and achieved your goal.

In the age of the over-seventies, when ones appendages seem to be breaking down, that gleeful sigh becomes an explosion of back-slapping delight.

I recently experienced such an explosion when I learnt how to wire a three-position rotary switch, that’s one with an off position and two active live positions. Such devices were common in the fifties, sixties and seventies before the arrival of new chip and transistor technology.

They were in your HiFi units, your portable radios, your fridges, household appliances, and your televisions. You used to switch channels, change dishwasher and steam-iron temperatures, regulate toaster times and even set your alarm clock using a basic rotary switch,

So, when a friendly defence-force trained plumber who I have worked with for years, Keith, handed me a Metop three position rotary switch and asked me to wire it so that he could run his grinder in a forward mode, a reverse mode and an idle state, I was filled with a questioning mind, could I or couldn’t I do it?

I started by exploring the internet and discovered numerous circuit diagrams, several U-tube videos and one or two sites offering practical and theoretical advice. I watched the videos, read the documents and perused the diagrams and was none the wiser, until I remembered something I learn in my physics class at school. Electricity is like watert it flows until something stops it and that’s what a switch does!

How do you test the ability of electricity to flow?

You use a continuity tester and I have one.

So, I set to work testing the switch with it set in all three positions. In the off position I discovered that there was no flow on any of the sixteen terminals, eight one side of the barrel and eight on the other;

Position One, there was flow from one left mounted terminal to two terminals on the right. I had discovered an on circuit. Two hours later, on position two, and I had discovered the second on-circuit coming from a different left mounted terminal to two right mounted terminals. Success!

But I was still confused, and something was not right. Yes, it worked, I could feed live power in and out, but where the fuck did the neutral wire go?

I knew this system would work with Keith’s grinder, I could feed the live current through the switch and connect a separate neutral to his grinder, but I also knew that the Metop switch had not revealed all its secrets.

A phone call to another old friend, Herman the German, a trained and fully qualified electrician of over forty years. He asked me to send a photo on the “Whats Application”.

Another new learning experience for me. Having transported the photo through the ether the cell phone rang.

“It’s got Bruken.” Said Herman.

“What? I don’t think it’s broken,” I replied.

“Not broken, it’s got Bruken!” he repeated irritably, across the terminals, on both sides, what was it used on before?”

“I don’t know.” Then my O-level Deutsch resurfaced, “Ah, Bruken, Bridges!”

“Ja, strip ‘em all off, they is confusing you They triangles.”

“Triangles?”

“Ja, them things mit three corners, strip the bridges, and then retest with the continuity tester, you did gut mit dat!”

“I did that, and it works.”

“Ja, but you got no place for neutral, strip bridges and retest. Call me back when you’ve done Dat.”

I duly followed Herman’s instructions and removed all the nine bridges and discovered that I had no continuity at all between the terminals that I had before!!

I felt as if I’d lost the battle, defeat was staring me in the face.

I re-read the numerous pages I’d downloaded from the Net and tried Wikipedia. A triangle sprang into view and it all began to make sense!

Out with the tester and this time I knew what I was looking for, an imaginary triangle with two of its corners touching two separate terminals, one on the left side of the Metop and the other on the right.

Within half an hour I had discovered four circuits and had the Metop switch wired up so that both positive and negative were switched on and off.

I quickly rigged up a light on an old piece of Oregon Pine, supplied power to the Metop switch and onto the light and tested my wiring. It worked!

A gleeful telephone call to Herman-the-German, thanking him, followed.

And now, Keith’s grinder could now go forward or in reverse mode with a flick of the rotary switch.

An explosion of back-slapping delight engulfed my aged old frame!

The Cheque is in the Post/Ether!

I cannot believe that today I am screaming and shouting about an injustice that I was screaming and shouting about fifty-five years ago!!

The injustice to which I refer is the late payment to jobbing actors who do Voice Overs for Advertising agencies and their respective clients, which include, banks, cell phone companies, white-goods manufactures, automobile manufacturers and distributors, retail companies, insurance companies, confectionary & sweets, chocolate bars, computer makers, airlines, beer, wine and sprit manufactures.

I have during my illustrious career voice over-ed for all the above products, 15 years for a beer company, twelve years for a household goods manufacturer, two years for an airline, three years for an insurance company, a chewy chocolate bar for three years, and several wine producers. All this during fifty-five years as a jobbing actor and voice-over artist and I’m still waiting for a payment for a job I recorded in early April of this year. Two radio spots for a leading local Cell phone company and an up-market Cell phone manufacturer.

These spots have been broadcast nationally over the airwaves since the first week of May! There is nothing more galling for an artist to hear his dulcet voice airing the magnificence of a product while he or she has not been paid.

The payment is divided in two parts, one for his/her performance in the studio and another for its usage. The latter is dependant on the period which the advertisement is broadcast, either three or six months or a year. There is also a clause which entitles the artist’s agent to renegotiate the usage fee should the advertising agent and product manufacturer wish to use the advert for another year.

The advertising agencies claim that the product manufacturer does not pay them for at least sixty days after the advert is aired. I ask the question, when is the broadcasting company paid? Does the SABC, M-Net or E-TV, have to wait for their money too? I find this hard to believe! I suspect that the broadcasting company will not air the advert till it has been paid in advance!!

And I think that the artist should also not allow the spot to be broadcast or the advert aired, till he or she has been paid!

I attend a clinic at the local general hospital, I have done this for over sixty years. Every now and again the fee for this service has increased from ten Rand back in the nineteen seventies up to sixty-five Rand now. But I must pay this fee before I can even see a doctor, have the necessary tests and receive my medication. A very simple and easy procedure; why can’t the advertising industry have a similar one?

Imagine what would happen if you didn’t pay the mechanic for the repair to your car? You wouldn’t get your car! Imagine what would happen if you didn’t pay the plumber who changed or washer or if you hadn’t paid the electrician who’s replaced your earth-leakage unit? Both these artisans would remove what they had fixed!!

I understand that certain professions like lawyers, doctors, accountants all submit monthly invoices for the work they have done for various clients and allow some latitude if their payments are not forthcoming, but they then add interest to these late payments, just like late-paid municipal accounts. But Voice-over artist do not even get this!

Way back when I did a lot of voice-overs and I had a friendly bank manager, I could ride the late payments as I always knew that I could increase my overdraft and pay my monthly bills, but now in old age work is not so prolific and waiting for five or seven thousand Rand means the disconnection of my electricity!

God knows how younger artists are coping either. If any of you younger readers are venturing into the world of voice-overring, I strongly advise you either to have a good-standing overdraft facility with your bank or an exceptionally good agent whom can chase outstanding payments from advertising agencies!

My agent went through a very difficult negotiation with a local beer manufacturer in the nineteen eighties. Under the voice-over contract the Ad agency can broadcast the advert on either radio or on television, but nowhere in the contract is it said they can broadcast them at a live venue like a cricket match.

Back then, the beer company was the national sponsor of the South African cricket team, the Proteas. It so happened that I was given eight free tickets by the brewery to watch an ODI game at the Wanderers in Johannesburg against the mighty Australians. My children at the time were living in Phalaborwa with their mother, they were going to the same school as Dale Steyn, who even at the tender age of ten was keenly interested in cricket. I gave all the tickets to my children who came down to Johannesburg for the weekend accompanied by Dale Steyn and his father.

They had a fantastic time watching Alan Donald decimate the Australian batsmen with figures of five for sixty and the Proteas won the game, however over a few beers, when I met them afterwards, they could not stop talking about my voice-overs which they had the pleasure of hearing at almost every bowling change. Dale’s father brought up the question, “How much do they pay you?” I pleaded ignorance as I did not even know they were being aired at the match. Both the radio spots and the television Ads were shown on the big screen, urging the attending public to fill their plastic cups with “The taste that stood the test of time.”

It took my agent four months of negotiation with the advertising agency, SA Breweries and the Wanderer’s cricket ground officials. All three entities were involved because each of them blamed the other and were reluctant to pay. Finally, a deal was struck and for the next eight years I received a fee for their use at live matches.

Another tale from the same era, in the days before the new-fangled- technologies entered our lives, a fellow thespian and voice artist waited for five months for his payment. Deciding he could wait no longer he and a friend visited the advertising agency in Sandton, Approaching the enquiry desk he asked to speak to the senior accountant and said he would wait. He then lent over the counter and grabbed the small switchboard, disconnected it and sat down with his mate. Within five minutes the accountant arrived, and he informed him of his problem. The accountant departed and returned a few minutes later with a cheque made out to cash!

There are some happy endings!

DATA

I have recently, in a past blog, written about The New-Fangled -Technologies that confront us on an almost daily basis.

It’s time I attacked the cost and the use of that commodity which one must have to operate the New-Fangled-Technologies, i.e. DATA!

For almost ten years I made use of an internet company, which for the meagre sum of ninety Rand a month supplied me with 2 Gigs of internet usage. Unfortunately, they were forced to close.

They kindly offered me the chance to join another company that would give me a Wi-Fi service of 2 Gigs usage, but at over twice the cost, two hundred Rand. After quickly looking at all other offers, I realised that this was going to be the cheapest on the market, so I signed on the dotted line and accepted the offer.

I have now been in the cloud, so to speak, with this company and the Windows Microsoft 10 operating system, for five months. Some things have been OK; I’ve managed to keep writing my blog; helped edit a couple of play-scripts for friends and continued to make posts on Facebook and send emails. All well and good, you might say. But!!!

I’ve continually been bombarded with annoying adverts and distractions asking me if I want to buy something or upgrade to some new-fangled-distraction!!

These adverts I’ve now realised are using up my paid for internet Data!!

Last month, for the first time ever!!! I found that I had used my 2 Gigs three days before the end of the month!

I do not download movies, I do not use U-tube! All I do is blog, Facebook and send emails!

Very annoying!!!!

Another complaint I have is that, in the past I’ve always enjoyed a game of “Free-Cell”. Now, with Windows ten, I must play this game in the cloud, so to speak, and this also means that almost every ten minutes or so, I’m hit with another wave of Ads offering me other games which I don’t want!

Microsoft does offer the ability to avoid these infuriating advertisements, but this means I must upgrade and pay an additional cost! Galling to say the least! It seems that every way there is to try and keeps costs down, the technology companies have a way to increase the cost!

At least when my late grandfather flew his racing pidgeons, way back in the nineteen-hundreds, the only cost he had was the feed, as he had me to clean their loft and from their effluent, he made the most efficient fertiliser! A pity there is no effluent from Data, or its usage!

Recently, The Independent Communications Authority of South Africa (Icasa) compared the cost of data within Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa – the BRICS nations, because of a request by the public.

Its findings are published in a report analysing the tariff plans offered by local operators.

Icasa looked at the price of 500MB, 1GB and 2GB packages. In South Africa, the body found that the difference between the cheapest ($7.15 aproximately 90 Rand) and most expensive 2GB package ($19.57 aproximately R230).

Do a google search, “Ways to reduce your Data cost!” and you’ll find numerous ways to reduce your DATA usage, particularly when on holiday and using your smart phone. Most of the advice is common sense, like switching of your “roaming facility”. But it seems, unless you’re a hacker or computer boffin, there is no way to stop the technology companies charging fucking exorbitant rates.

If any of you readers have simple method, I would be extremely grateful if you could pass on the information.

This morning I came across another “Rip-off”. My over twenty-year-old Hansa gate motor is malfunctioning. I took a quick look and realised that the latch mechanism, which is a slightly bent metal bar with a free-wheeling plastic nodule at its end, was not working. This mechanism stops the gate motor by hitting a rise on the horizontal bar and the plastic nodule at the end of the metal bar had completely worn away.

Considering that the Hansa motor is over twenty-four years old, not bad.

I tracked down a gate repair company who specialises in Hansa motors and took the metal bar to them to get a spare part. I was knocked sideways when I was told the replacement would cost two hundred and twenty Rand. The offered alternative was to bring the motor in to them, and they would replace the mechanism totally for one thousand and forty Rand!!

I am now at work with some 20mm electrical plastic conduit and my Pratley’s quick-set glue and putty “Magyer-ing” a solution and making a new plastic nodule to fit on the end of the 4cm long slightly bent metal bar.

I am totally confused by the ingenuity that technology companies have in created new products that work twice as badly as the old ones that they created. This money-grabbing formula seems to be entering our lives daily.

I have a little tool-box draw in which I store all the Cadac-gas-valves I have accumulated over the past fifty years. I do not think I’ve bought a new one for at least twenty-five years. Every time one of my gas filling valves gets blocked I unblock an old one, fit it on the appliance and hey-presto the light, cooker, blow torch is working again.

However, to unblock the valve a device is needed, a Cadac-valve-cleaning tool. A small device, a metal strip with a very thin, less than a millimetre in circumference. After a search of my tool shed, I couldn’t find mine.

So, I popped down to my local hardware store to be told that Cadac no longer make them and I would have to buy a new valve at forty-three Rand!!

I can announce success! The contraption for the gate is repaired and installed and it work! The marvel of Pratley’s quick-set putty and glue.

Maybe, I am wrong to assume that today is a totally a throw-away society. Everyone follows the easiest solution, throw it away and get a new one. Perhaps I am fortunate as my grandfather was an electrician and a joiner and he took great pleasure in teaching me his invaluable knowledge, which I still use today.

It seems as if today’s youth have not the foggiest idea how to use a nut & bolt; they do not understand the function of a washer. When it comes to the theory and the practical use of electricity their minds are a complete blank. The changing of a plug, connecting a three-way switch, changing a light-fitting, making a Janus cable extension, are all problems they are not educated to solve.

And I need not even mention gas! No wonder there are so many fires and explosions in the world!

I even solved the problem of the missing Cadac vale-cleaner. I made one using a fine stand of electrical wire!

If it works, if it can be repaired, don’t throw it away! and whatever you do; don't buy a new one!!!!!