My mind is in turmoil. So much happening. So much to write about.
Where do I start?
Well, let me be the first to pat myself on the back (better than some people who enjoy putting a knife into it) after my brilliant forecast in last week’s column which predicted that Sifiso Zulu would be lying comfortably in the Westville Prison hospital by the time you read Monday’s newspaper.
Sure enough, there was the article on the Monday confirming our predictions that yet another ANC criminal/celebrity has obviously got friends in high places who give him this VIP preferential treatment.
In this case I did not want to be right, but there it is – and who knows how long this extended check-up will continue before he sees the inside of a cold prison cell.
Then just after reading about “Houdini” Zulu and his amazing escape from the slammer, I read about the hue and cry that our president’s genitals have caused.
Yes, the painting which is hanging in a Johannesburg gallery and which shows JZ fully clothed, but with his penis hanging out, has sent the ANC and many others into a rage; so much so they are taking the matter to the courts.
Of course this sent my mind racing.
If I was president or someone famous, or just an ordinary Joe or Siphiwe, I would ask myself: would I be offended if someone painted me and showed my appendage in a public exhibition?
And the answer is simple: No.
I say no because if some artist was generous enough to paint in a few more centimetres down there, I would be thrilled.
As everybody knows we men are usually terribly self-conscious about size, hence the famous “envy” phrase.
So I can only assume that the painting of JZ, which I have only seen in its censored version, must not show him in a flattering light.
I have never heard of the man who painted JZ, Brett Murray, but all I can say is that if he did any research and had to ask around about the genitals of our head honcho, there would be some sources available to describe them.
For a man whose love life and sexual exploits have been blasted across the media in recent years, I would have thought that the Pres should have been tickled pink at the painting, even though an ANC spokesman, members of Zuma’s family and others have said it is “savage-like”, “disrespectful”, “Eurocentric” and “disgusting”.
And on Saturday the Pres finally issued a statement condemning the painting and said it made him look like a “philanderer and womaniser”.
No need to comment any further on that statement!
As a Sunday columnist said yesterday, Zuma has “made a virtue of flaunting his sexual prowess”, and after six wives and 20 children, has still said he might take more partners.
I know he seldom has a firm political opinion on many burning issues, and for the most part is the most muted and timid leader we have ever had, but I do think he has a sense of humour and comes across as a jovial person who enjoys a good joke.
I would have thought he would have had the personality to laugh this one off. Now the painter and the picture have got all the publicity that money can’t buy.
But enough of Zuma and the painting. Let us finish off in the same vein as last week with some sporting highlights.
It is once again happy days for the Sharks, Orlando Pirates supporters and, of course, fans of the most amazing football club in the world, my beloved Chelsea Football Club.
Oh yes, there were amazing scenes in the Tarr household on Saturday night around midnight, as my son and I danced around my lounge, hugging and crying as Didier Drogba won us the Champions League for the first time in our 100-year plus history.
And true to form, we took turns to spray the champagne over each other – just as you might see at Formula One celebrations on the Grand Prix podium.
So ended another incident-packed week.
Surely the upcoming seven days cannot be as eventful.
Mind you, with our taxi drivers in militant mood, I fear the police, commuters and the general public are in for a torrid and potentially dangerous and violent time.
Welcome to the new South Africa!