Open letter to Santa Claus 2004
I heard you’re in town. Someone saw your sleigh zinging by the NAC offices and then leaving with a whole bunch of board members who’d been holed up there, holding hostage a little cheque book and living on pizzas dropped off every half-an-hour by Mr Delivery.
They knew to call Mr Delivery when they wanted to feed themselves, but not on any other occasion.
By the way, if those board members want to sit in business class on your sleigh, just say no. Enough already! I’d keep them away from your sack of gifts if I were you. I know they don’t deserve it, but in the spirit of the times, be kind to them. Hide the sack. “Sack” has such a horrible meaning for them at the moment.
I no longer believe in the tooth fairy or the Easter bunny who’ve been spotted on numerous occasions at Cape Town’s Mother City Queer Project parties. And then, just when I was beginning to give up on you too, there you were, giving us a gift by taking something away. What a cool idea!
I’m not sure what you’re planning to do with those board members still in denial about their sacking; perhaps I could suggest that even the big bad wolf needs a decent Christmas lunch? Then at least the three little pigs can live in peace for a while and not have their houses demolished, and Little Red Riding Hood will have at least another sixteen days without being abused by the wolf.
Just a tip, keep your eye on your reindeer or those board members might just fancy a bit of a braai, and then you’ll have no wheels. And you wouldn’t want to disappoint a whole bunch of kids on account of them! Those board types can be real grinchy bastards.
If you’re thinking of taking them back to the North Pole with you, be prepared for a little resistance. I don’t think they believe in a white Christmas. They’re a fanciful bunch that probably believes their sacking is the result of a plot by the white media, the White Paper and the White House, but do not be perturbed, they’ll soon calm down once you place a bit of white meat (preferably in a Kentucky barrel) and some white wine in front of them.
They have a litigious tendency, and one of them even fancies himself as a lawyer, even though his understanding of the law is about as big as your smallest elf. So they’ll probably sue you for something or other, and expect you to pay for their legal team. It might be best then just to lose them in translation somewhere in Japan.
I don’t know if you had anything to do with it, but that was a really early gift when the previous minister of culture woke up one morning as an ambassador. I heard he presented his credentials to the Japanese government wearing a “Ben there, messed up” T-shirt.
Apparently, it’s the Season of Goodwill (Zwelethini) and if Ngubane comes back to give his king some gold, frankincense or myrrh (or maybe even just a karaoke computer), perhaps you can dispatch a few wise men to him to suggest that he requests an extension on his contract?
You know, Santa, every time someone new comes to the Department of Arts and Culture, we think “This is it! Things will change for the better.” We were wrong. Thanks for teaching us that perhaps things will get better not when someone comes, but when someone goes. So feel free to take as many of the DAC leadership with you as possible. One or two have been a real handicap. Nudge, nudge, swing, swing.
And finally, on a personal note, thanks for taking away the NAC board, so now I’ll have to find something else to write about. That’s a pretty decent gift for the longsuffering readers of this column who must all be candidates for the new NAC Bored!
Good luck with those chimneys!