Drunk Men with Balls

If it was absolutely necessary, I could sum myself up as a wine lover, rugby fan and a sucker for a good story. It's as simple as that really. Fortunately there's lots of subtext that can be derived from those phrases so I feel like there's still room to be three dimensional.

Can I just say firstly, wow. South Africans have such an awesome rugby team. Awesome. We're far too hard on the boys, they are truly our "bokkie's." Gotta love them, they are so, so talented and pretty good looking too which never hurts on the playing field - or in life for that matter. They are making the Tri Nations look like the Mono-Nations. True those Kiwi's and Aussie's put up a fight but whatever, thanks for playing, would you like a sip from my Tri Nations Cup? Hmmmm?

OK enough rugby, next...wine. Now, there is an "ancient" romantic notion associated with wine and wine making. I remember when screw caps were introduced, better for the wine, bad for romance though. The pop of the cork was pretty symbolic for some people. For some it was the last thing they heard before the wedding march in a dress designed specifically to hide the "bump." For others, its the moment of enlightenment before the black out. Good times or bad times, they were stained with red wine. Reports indicate that romance might have to move over for technology. Sigh. Again.

Wine growers in certain parts of France are using satellite imagery to improve their grape harvests. It’s called "the Oenoview system" and was originally designed to give grain farmers the inside scoop for when it was time to harvest. So have a good long look at those adverts of farmers loving plucking produce straight from the vine to know when it was "time."

The satellites might totally replace that act because they can supply wine growers with information like just how much water is in the fruit and how much to prune back their vines. French wine makers have called the service a "valuable tool" which will save time, vines, and angst within the industry.

So, there you have it, the guess work has been thoughtfully removed out of grape growing, the only thing left to talk about is just how much of a sucker I am for a good story.

There was one time, in South African Airways history that a plane was hijacked. The year was 1972 and a plane travelling from Salisbury (Harare) to Johannesburg. A Libyan police officer, Fouad Kamil (also known as Flash Fred and a former diamond investigator for Anglo American) and his assistant started packing dynamite onto the shelves of the cabin while the plane started its descent.

Armed, they ordered the captain to land. The plane turned around, headed back to Salisbury and just in time, by the time they landed, there wasn't even enough fuel to taxi off the run way.

Kamil demanded that the head of Anglo American, Harry Openheimer meet him at the airport in Blantyre, Malawi.

Old Kamil claimed to have salvaged millions of rands worth of illegal diamonds for Anglo American and was never paid. Now, the rest of the story is all details, the point is that Kamil was sentenced to 10 years in jail, he served 8 months. They must have dug a little deeper into the matter because Oppenheimer gave Kamil a little golden handshake before Kamil fled to Brazil.

Now, a man of 83, he says he doesn't know how much time he has left and wants to apologise to those affected and ask for forgiveness. He did it on Facebook (can you believe that?) Anyway, he lives there alone, writes books and paints. To me, he's something of a less spiritual, more material Paulo Choelo - you know. With an edge and a prison record.

Kamil...if I had been there, you would most certainly have my forgiveness. You'd have a glass of French wine, my forgiveness and a televised rugby game. If it was absolutely necessary to sum me up in just three things. Summarise yourself! Tell me about it...