The Ides Of March

There is superstition go the lyrics from a very good Stevie Wonder song and truer observations are hard to come by as there is indeed superstition all around us in our lives and our customs.

Take last Friday for example, the thirteenth, and think about all the karma or lack of it associated with such a date. For that matter, think about karma itself, for what is karma if not fate?

Traditional customs, superstitions, obeah, doens, La Diablesse, all are part of the folklore of our region and the analogy exists in every known society. Today being March fifteenth, I am reminded of the soothsayer in Julius Caesar who uttered the memorable line "beware the ides of March". Perhaps a little superstition of my own?

Not really.

Superstition and religion are closely linked. Some say that religion is superstition. Some who I respect and admire hold such a view, so I am left to ponder the choice between embracing the idea of a supreme being that I cannot detect with my senses as reality, as opposed to my firm non belief in ghosts and spirits and omens and signs and obeah and such rubbish.

Come on man, show me a ghost and I'll believe; show me the witch flying on the broomstick and I will do what she says for fear that she will burn down my house. Just how much of a fool must I be to believe in such rubbish which folklore has handed down to us?

The truth is a lot simpler: we are each and every one a product of our lives and how we handle them. Sometimes fate intervenes, but we each have our fate and fate is karma and karma is out of our control, so when bad things happen we deal with them and hopefully live to smile and laugh another day, and forget about superstition and omens and somewhere along the line keep on believing there is a God.

Talk about paradoxes.

Anyone ready to come to my next Friday thirteenth party?

The Mini Stress Of Fine Ants

It is no secret that I hold all local politicians in high contempt, but the mouthings of  our current  finance minister have from day one of her tenure put her at the top of my list. 

Along such lines I am here to tell you that some fed up person wrote to and was published in today's local media expressing his or her amazement at the "brazenness with which the Finance Minister tries to pull the wool over the citizen's eyes", in reference to that person's rationale in stating that the CLF meltdown has nothing to do with the global one.

I couldn't agree with the writer more. I too am fed up, and I don't understand. You see, I'm told by some who have known the person referred to of the qualities and the academic achievements and the potential which they saw; and comparing that to what I see and hear is cocoa and zabrico. 

I view the person as a subservient servant of her boss the PM, who has had words put into her mouth concerning a subject of which she displays little knowledge and certainly no experience, and who does not seem to realize just how synchophantic she comes across. Something is wrong.

Which brings me to the question: when one goes to work for a people or a company or an army, can the policies of the leader be sustained ultimately? Or, more to the point, when the question of obey the boss or do the right thing arises, how should one choose? Is blind allegiance an option? Remember Nazi Germany?

Anybody who knows me knows my answer to such a question. 

As for those I talked to who knew her, I wonder what their current opinion of the mini stress of fine ants is.

Something To Remember

The pomp and ceremony of today's US Presidential Inauguration and the attendant inaugural address is something to remember, and so stirred me that I got to comparing big and small: how big they are in the US and how small we seem to make ourselves in T&T. Not just in size but in spirit, and in our ability and willingness to be able to decide right from wrong and do the right thing at all times in all circumstances.

Comparisons from Obama's address to Manning's words escape me, as I have none of our Prime Minister's speeches. But I can compare the cheering hundreds of thousands who braved cold weather and other inconveniences to go and take genuine joy in the election of what many believe to be a true leader, to the  five thousand or so people in Woodford Square some of whom are paid to go, or get a free t-shirt (PNM, of course), or free rum to drink to celebrate putting a man to do a job which he seems incapable of doing.

They really love and respect our PM. I'm certain that any of them would be willing to sacrifice a kidney for the man should he need one.

The formula in infantile politics such as we endure in T&T is simple: give the grassroots exactly what they want and retain power at any cost without regard to what is right or wrong, what is moral or immoral. The bottom line is to stay in charge, so sell out everything in order to do so.

Such people will go to great lengths to preserve the status quo. They are the enemies of change who offer little hope for a better future for their people through the old system of patronage and greed, increasing every day.

Those who lose their piece of the pie at election time done vex. Look at comparative concession speeches in recent elections, Panday's losing rant versus McCain's endorsement in defeat. Doesn't that comparison sum it all up? 

So we suffer, on and on without an end in sight, and we struggle, and we hope for leadership unforthcoming to take us to where we aspire to be.

Yet we take it because as the man say, we like it so.

Corporal Brown's Lucky Guys Late Lime

The following story is true:

Back in 2002 an old friend and I had a troubling experience. In these times it seems almost sacrilege to make fun of trauma. Still, the following rendition is exactly how it went down to my recollection. It comes out funny because nobody died or was raped or robbed.

So may I introduce to you the act you've known for all these years, Corporal Brown's Lucky Guys Late Lime!

Our heroes are having a drink, other guests have departed and the conversation has become deeper. The candles have all mostly burned down and the music is muted.

Suddenly, real action!

PAUL: (taking off over the back of the couch and running out of the room towards the stairs outside) OGODOGODOGODOGODAHAHAAAAAOGODOGOD!

Geoff looks up from his canvas chair at a small caliber pistol barrel (is that a toy? he thinks). Two young men are facing him, menacingly pointing what he assumes to be guns. Both have their faces covered over the nose with scarves, like old time cowboys up to no good, red scarf on the one closer to him, he's taller than the other one, big nose, both in jeans, tee shirts and sneakers.

Geoff is mildly suprised to find himself facing such a situation, but retains his calm. The men say nothing, continuing to point their weapons at him. He has had quite a few rums and it seems fitting to say:

GEOFF: Well, one man out, so I think you should back off.

To his delight and suprise, that is exactly what the would-be robbers do: they both walk backward toward the balcony, jump over, and are gone. Meanwhile, Paul continues to bellow on the stairs outside. Geoff gets to his feet and walks out to the balcony, looks out and sees nobody. The crisis is over.

PAUL: Geoff, Geoff yuh aright Geoff? GEOFF! GEOFF!

GEOFF: Yeh Paul is okay, they gone.

PAUL: Oh God, O God...

GEOFF: Is okay Paul. You could come back down.

Paul descends the stairs and reenters the apartment, but remains poised to run again.

PAUL: Oragh! Oragh! Geoff! Oh God Geoff.

GEOFF: Is okay Paul, calm yuself, is over.

PAUL: Uh never coming up on Fort George again. Never! AH! AH!

GEOFF: Have a drink and calm yuself.

PAUL: Buh Geoff, yuh doe know, this is the third time that something bad happen to me on Fort George. Uh never coming back here again.

Geoff begins to close and lock the wrought iron gate between the living room and the patio.

GEOFF: I better lock up.

PAUL: Aragh! Aragh! What a scene! O God Geoff.

GEOFF: Les have a drink.

PAUL: No, no uh doe want a drink. Aragh!

GEOFF: Try to relax, Paul. Is over. We safe. We better lock the gate.

Geoff moves to the front gate and retreving the keys locks it.

GEOFF: They might try to come back that way.

Geoff sits down in the same place he was when the incident began.

GEOFF: Le'e take a drink.

PAUL: Uh doe want no drink. Uh not coming back on Fort George ever again.

GEOFF: Cool yuself nuh Paul, is alright.

Our heroes then settle down, and yes, Paul did have another drink and yes too, he has been back, for as said, that incident took place in 2002 and by the karma of Corporal Brown's Lucky Guys Late Lime our heroes have both lived to tell the tale and sail the seas of life into 2009 and perhaps beyond.

On occasion, levity is a good vehicle of expression.

Celebrating Under Stress

For those who cling to it, Christmas is the most stressful time of year.

You know the routine: make the poncha creme, grind the seasoning and the pepper sauce, cook the ham and pastelles, decorate the tree, buy and wrap and label the presents, buy the wine and spirits and distribute them, send out the Christmas cards, deck the halls, bring out the VAT 19, strum the cuatro, attend all the parties, fight the traffic and the crowds in the malls, be lucky you don't get mugged or robbed...the joys of Christmas!

Who can deny the additional stress brought on by Christmas to it's celebrants? Still, I have read of no correlation between the holiday season and the frequency of death due to stress factors, so it seems that Christmas and heart attacks and strokes and the like are not linked. I wonder.

So much additional activity should make a difference in the routine which could result in health factors coming into play.

Yet I remember a gentler time, a softer time when things did not move quite as fast as they do now. Little chance of the health issues then. That was a time of little traffic and less crime and more hope and joy and comfort, a time when family meant almost everything, and strangers were not nightmares to be feared. A time of a feeling, a mood and an outlook which really believed in good will towards all men. Perhaps the sun was brighter and the nights were safer and the living was easier back then. All mostly gone now sadly.  

In Trinidad and Tobago, now is the time to put up our cages and our walls to keep the increasingly hostile human element out. Time to say goodbye to the village culture and say hello to the global ghetto, coming our way soon.

Hope For Change

Today marks several events which may turn out to be significant for those of us who live in this part of the world.

In Florida, small bones were found close to the home of Caylee Anthony, missing since July, a find which may finally resolve a criminal law case which has troubled many worldwide.

In Cuba, a malignant tumor was discovered in the body of Patrick Manning, a discovery which may have far reaching consequences for our political future. Should the diagnosis prove to be positive it may be a good idea for Manning to make a plan for the short term, and who knows where such a course of action may lead?

In Trinidad and Tobago, the widening split between Basdeo Panday and Jack Warner is something which may result in change within that seemingly gutless institution referred to as the opposition. Opposition indeed. More like a joke, ha ha! But this is a jokey land that we live in.

I feel a change coming somehow, just as as I did before the so called economic meltdown. After all, things cannot go on and on growing indefinitely. Any economist worth his salt will tell you that. It seems that the present government does not have a sensible economist on board. That woman they have seems to me only to be a puppet of the great leader. Our very own local Sarah Palin, a failure. You can tell by the way she gesticulates. Not only her. Most of them are not competent.

More reason for change.

If Manning gets serious pain and health worries he is going to have to hand it over to someone and that can only be good as I believe that even Roger who runs the parlor selling the pies down the road (read Jack the Plumber) will be better than him. And if Jack Warner withholds his financial support,  Panday will go down.

Who knows? 

Yet today was a day of good news. Maybe it's the spirit of Christmas. Maybe what goes around really does come around. Perhaps poetic justice works. 

Orenthal Simpson just pulled a considerable jail term. Who knows, will Casey Anthony get one too? Will Manning be held to account for his mismanagement of our country? We have only to take a look at Panday and know the answer to that question. What about Imbert? Will he be held to account, for his arrogance and for his failures? What about all the rest of them, perhaps taking a little something on the side, perpetuating the bobol. 

I ask you, is this good for our society, for our morality as a people? Do we even have such a thing?

So while today was full of good news, I hold out hope for better news on the day when all wrongdoers are held to account for their wrongdoing. There are many. We know who they are, and yet we continue to allow them to rob us. That's just what they do. It's the status quo and not likely to change, because some segments of the society "like it so" to quote the maestro Sparrow.

Not Manning. Not Bas. Who? Rowley? Me?

Time for a change. Time for a cool change.

Celebrating Occasions

I used to throw a party whenever my birthday came along until recently. Used to do it real good as I recall. I don't do it any more. Seems that I no longer have the desire to celebrate each birthday as a special occasion. I wonder why? Could it be that I am "getting old"?

No, I don't think so. I believe instead that I am becoming more cynical about many things and special occasions are becoming less of a joy and more of a hassle when I get down to it. Back then it was special and bright yet now it feels jaded and worn.

Old age or cynicism?

A bit of both. Though to me it is mostly the lack of desire: I no longer want to do it. At this time I do just about anything I want to do, and I do many things which are productive mentally and physically, largely because I want to do them.

I am convinced that any of humankind who has the desire to achieve specific goals will achieve them ceteris paribus. I live alongside many examples. I am one of them. Still, I somehow no longer want to do Christmas and birthdays, simply because I have no desire for them at this point. 

Someone once said to me "If you wait long enough, everything changes" and I have found this to be largely true.

So what will it be that may bring back the desire to celebrate milestones and traditional occasions?  Why time, of course! Time for change and for healing and learning. Lots of time.

Who knows, maybe when I become old I'll start back really celebrating Christmas and birthdays instead of simply going through the motions as I seem to do these days, but I might be dead by then, so maybe I should enjoy it and embrace it while I have it. What is life after all without a bit of stimulation?

Oh, bah, humbug!