42. Giving 'Voice' to our malice.

We got to know a number of rock bands and singers during our sojourn in Cape Town. Ronnie Singer to name but one. Ronnie 
had a residency at the Clifton Hotel where he would pack in the crowds. We got on really well with Ronnie and he invited Lea
and I to join his band on a tour of South Africa but we turned 
him down. I believe Billy Crauser went on ahead of the band 
to promote the tour. 

Another beat group who we were friendly with and played 
regularly at the Navigator’s Den at the time was the Couriers. 
Well we were friendly with all but one member of the band, 
the singer. Who called himself, 'The Voice’. I mean, it wouldn't 
have been cool to call himself 'The Voice' even if others had 
started calling him that...but they didn't. Nobody had. The 
douche bag came up with 'The Voice' tag all by himself - 
which kinda makes his comeuppance even more enjoyable.  
Here goes...

One Sunday afternoon after our lunchtime session we were 
invited to a pool party cum barbecue at a house in Constantia. When we arrived we found the Couriers were already there and surprise, surprise, their singer, The Voice, was sounding off on 
his favourite subject, himself, or more particularly his amazing
vocal range...all very cringe worthy. 

Later on after consuming many brandy and cokes - the bands favourite tipple - we all chilling out by the pool when it was 
brought to our attention that the ‘Voice’ had lowered his guard 
and dropped off to sleep on a sun lounger in the shade. 

We remembered a joke we used to play on 'friends' when along with half the Rhodesian youth population, we descended on the coastal town of Beria in Portuguese East Africa. 

We asked the host for a newspaper and scissors - which was 
duly provided and we immediately set about cutting the sentence “Cut Dotted Line”... a paper pair of scissors was also cut out ... 
oh, yes, and also paper bikini top, a pair of paper spectacles 
and the name 'Dick'. Then came the 'piece de resistance'... 
but I'll come to that later.

Ever so carefully we carried the sun lounger together with it's occupant ‘the Voice’ out of the shade and into the blazing South African sun where we undid his shirt and exposed his chest and stomach. Very gently as not to wake him, we placed a line of 
paper dots horizontally across his throat before adding the 
paper scissors and the the words “cut along the dotted line”. 
Then came the the paper bikini top.

The spectacles were next up and placed over his eyes to give 
him that permanent Buddy Holly look...and the letters D I C K
were added to his forehead... and last but not least  our ‘piece 
de resistance’, a paper outline of a large pair of buttocks which 
was gently rested on “the Voice’s” stomach incorporating his 
hairy belly button as the A-hole. 

All very childish I agree but  to a bunch teenagers who had 
downed a fair quantity of 'Mellow Wood' Brandy, it was way beyond hilarious.

We then sat in the shade and watched for the sun and paper 
to do their work. 

I'm pleased to announce it was one of those rare cases when expectation was surpassed by the actual result. The vivid 
contrast in skin colour was dramatic. The words and designs 
stuck out clearly. The Dick, bikini top, cut along this line, the spectacles and buttock and would live with The Voice for months...and with us for years. In retrospect we were 
practitioners of permanent body art way before our time.