Carol’s Column

The break up of Spice Girls may have sunk our rand

One way and another, times are hectic, especially in the sport and financial sectors. Talking sport, our cricket and rugby chaps have brought more than a smile to our faces and watching Wimbledon was a sheer joy, not to mention the Bafana Bafanailess World Cup play-offs. Just as well, for talking rands - and who isn't - it's gloom and doom and faces as long as old cows' udders.

Have you noticed instant economists are mushrooming like toadstools?

I got into a crowded lift this morning and before I could open my mouth to say “good morning,” somebody snapped: “What's the rand?”

In a six-floor drop to the ground floor the rand dive was blamed on the appointment of Tito Mboweni, described variously as catastrophic, brilliant and madness.

America: “The Americans are sitting back and sneakily buying rands.”

“Rubbish, nobody's buying rands, that's the trouble.”

Russia: “Blame the disaster on the collapse of the Russian rouble. It's made investors edgy about continuing to invest in yet another emerging economy.”

The collapse of the Asian markets, George Soros, communists, apartheid, capitalists, Cosatu, the breakup of the Spice Girls. Everything's to blame.

I've never seen a lift full of such animated people. Usually a brisk “good morning” elicits curt grunts and I've wondered on occasion if I forgot to brush my teeth.

The crunch is beginning but one has to think laterally, make alternative plans. For instance, at the beginning of the week, Norbert, my aged small German car, expired. His heart and kidneys, parts vital for functioning, all needed replacing.

“So, how much will a new engine cost?” I asked the garage.

When told the price, I nearly expired in sympathy with Norbert. “That's almost the cost of a new car. That's what I paid for Norbert 10 years ago.”

“The price of imported parts has gone up,” he replied.

So I instigated alternative action and retired Norbert for a year or until the economy revives, and have acquired a bike. This morning I cycled to work and it took me two healthy hours.

In fact, I'm so fit I can hardly walk. What's more, I save on parking fees as the bike is chained to my desk. I thought of the mini taxi option but the last time I took one, my hair turned white with fright.

My bike is the new reality.

And talking reality, I remember several years ago in the days when I was moonlighting as a tooth fairy, I tiptoed into my small daughter's room, removed her tiny milk tooth from her slipper and replaced it with a 10c piece. As is the custom in our family, I left a little note apologising for the fact that the tooth fairy hadn't been the night before. I explained I'd been busy collecting teeth in Uzbekistan far away. I then explained that in view of inflation, she'd be receiving 10c for her tooth, a 100% increase on the usual 5c.

The following morning I remember receiving a neat little package with the 10c and a letter enclosed.

Which read as follows: “Dear tooth fairy, I can't buy nuthink with 10 cents, luv nicky.”

A particularly disgruntled tooth fairy, I called in my young daughter and explained to her that 10c was a windfall.

With 10c there were endless possibilities. For instance, she could buy 10 Chappies chewing gums, five Wicks chewing gums or even one chocolate Crunchy.

She cocked her little head and giggled. “Ma, get real,” she said.

Twenty years later, this ancient tooth fairy is facing reality. In truth, I can't buy nothing with 10c.

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