NOW: We need to help Vernon Koekemoer

“HELLO!” The voice on the other end of the line is all caps loud. And aggressive. Less of a greeting and more of an offensive. Expected though, as I'm calling a military manufacturer. From my car. On a highway. In 2008. So no hands-free. I swerve a little and squeak back, “Erm, is that Cassie?” The reply is equally antagonistic: “NO!” A click and a hum and I’m on hold again, waiting to get through to the man who’s blowing up on the internet big time: Vernon Koekemoer. Real name: Cassie Booyse.

It had been a few days since my friend Anikesh Ramani and I started the Facebook group to ... well ... make Vernon Koekemoer famous. Yep, we’d even spelt it wrong because that’s how it came through on the original email (the main means to a meme back then). By all accounts, we’d achieved what we’d set out to do.

There he was on front pages, newspaper billboards, even being analysed by bemused Sky News reporters. Which was great, but Anikesh and I both had consciences and, after respective attacks from our higher selves (and hours of late-night existential phone calls), we’d come to the agreement that the group could only stay open if we got his blessing. We were worried that the humour was going south, that he was becoming an object of ridicule, that this could be the tipping point for ...

Anyway. I trawled through comments on the group and found someone whose cousin's cousin used to work with him. I got a name and a place of work. And now here I was, gulping at the prospect of this muscled marvel hurting me through the phone.

“Hello?” Came the new voice on the phone. Remarkably different. Almost shy. Friendly. No punches ready to offload. This was Cassie, the real Vernon, and meeting him (via a phone conversation) was a real eye-opener. He didn’t have Facebook, but the guys at the gym tuned whatnot about him into something-something on the internet. It made him laugh. “You’re not upset?” I asked. He wasn’t at all. He thought it was ... you know ... just a thing. It’ll blow over soon ...

Well, no need to go into detail about the TV ads, the music video appearances, the countless news articles and even a mix CD that claimed it was putting the OU back into Electro! Vernon did everything, and appealed to everyone. A most unlikely unifier for our fractured society. He nailed us all with his inexplicable charm. A few years after it had really blown over, Anikesh and I were invited by a journalist to meet the man in person.

As expected, he defied expectation. Shorter and older. Cheeky and humble. He spoke fondly of meeting Patricia Lewis and being recognised by Kurt Darren. He told horror stories of unscrupulous promoters ripping him off. He said he still kept photocopies of “that photo” in his car (black and white to save money) so he could sign autographs for kids that recognised him. He was an absolute mensch. A real gem.

And this real man is, by all accounts, in desperate need of medical help. Not the meme we all contributed to. Not the legend we stitched together. Not the indestructible force of our collective imagination. But a genuinely great yet very frail man called Cassie Booyse who, through no fault (or will) of his own, broke through the disparate clutter of our lives and stood — for a few glorious moments in those insanely big-heeled Buffalo boots — slap-bang in the centre of our zeitgeist.

It’s really quick and easy to make a donation. A fund has been set up and it’s growing nicely. If you can, please do. He was a part of all of us.

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