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70 | denis beckett<br />
person most of us would ever meet had accidentally left his<br />
wallet at the office. Somebody always paid up, unresentfully.<br />
That was Jim. That was also the rand Bar & restaurant. cash<br />
on the nail or your kneecaps were in danger. There were<br />
twelve items on the menu but in truth your choices were two:<br />
Portuguese steak and beer or plain steak and beer. either way<br />
you got a sauce that made your palate explode. The difference<br />
was that with plain steak the sauce came in a side bowl. If<br />
the bowl got pushed under your nostrils it took two minutes<br />
before you could finish your sentence. The main clientele were<br />
mechanics in grease-streaked overalls who passed up the steak<br />
and compensated in beer and looked skeef at anyone talking<br />
larney. Once we arrived as a taxi was disgorging an immaculate<br />
american who’d asked for the rand club. He goggled like he’d<br />
been smacked with a wet fish. We put him right. The taxi driver<br />
was a Mozambique immigrant for whom the rand Bar was<br />
bigger than the stately rand club a mile downtown, whose<br />
members would no more catch a common taxi than dance a<br />
tango on the pavement.<br />
Jim was in his element at the rand Bar – next best thing to<br />
a shebeen. I went back some ten years later for old time’s sake,<br />
but the place was all smoothed up.<br />
I hung out at Drum until the time came for the american trip.<br />
Jim kept telling me I was a “Drum Man”, which was odd because<br />
he simultaneously vetoed all my projects except one, ironically,<br />
Ted’s idea of Drum Wheels. Jim wanted me to drop my idea of a<br />
non-racial magazine – “silly, Denis, silly” was his catchphrase –<br />
and I still wanted him to put up the cash. We both failed.<br />
Jim finally registered that I wouldn’t return to Drum after six<br />
weeks in the States, and got mad, which was his worst habit.<br />
He was an engagingly eccentric employer and a fascinating<br />
character. He and Harry Oppenheimer had started life with<br />
silver spoons of comparable caratage, and had chosen different<br />
directions. unto Harry were talents given and he multiplied<br />
them, creating industry and employment mightily. Jim got his