Let me have men about me that are fat, sleek-headed men and such as sleep o’ nights.
Yond’ Cassius has a lean and hungry look; he thinks too much. Such men are dangerous. – Julius Caesar
Froon, my brother, mischief art afoot. Just next door, a Trini plot to overthrow Kamla Food-Processor. Don’t say it can’t happen here.
And don’t assume that those who definitely aren’t lean and hungry-looking don’t need watching.
The corpulent and unwieldly “well favoured and fat-fleshed kine” can be just as dangerous.
Trust me. I did history with J.C. Hammond and R.V. Goodridge.
Anyhow, it’s Christmas, a time of peace on earth, goodwill towards men. Bim is in holiday mood. Politicians from both parties singing carols together with Ken. No Bajan who cares about his country would spoil that mood with thoughts of upheaval.
This is a time to thank our Saviour for our blessings. And let me start with the man himself, Froon, our Prime Minister.
Froon the Silent. Froon ain’t saying nothing.
But let’s look beyond that. What has he given us in his few, very difficult, years at the helm?
First, a welcome period of calm and peace. No more controversy-ridden debates tearing us into factions. Far from it, it gladdened the heart to see Bajans uniting as a people to tell Cameron and Clinton we’re not condoning entry through the back door.
Nelson in situ but out of Heroes Square. Referendum/republic no longer mentioned. No dump at Greenland under Froon. We have weathered the economic storm thus far better than many developed countries: our utilities are up and running; no restrictions on spending and the good life; full pension cheques arriving on time. Even the British are not so lucky.
Gone for now are the nightmare fears of the past decade: that our sovereignty would be compromised; that we would become a parish in CeEssMeeia or CARICOMA inundated by swarms of immigrants. We can still hope that our precious argricultural land will remain as such.
Above all, Freundel Stuart has impressed us with his quiet dignity and decency, qualities this country desperately needs. Should we then hand over our Government to flamboyant wannabees whose agendas we know nothing about?
No way! I am comfortable with Froon. Long may he reign!
And what of other blessings? December hath abounded in Morgan’s Bottom. Sister Anne brought me an iPad from Canada. The iPad is great when you’re doing iPee or iPoop and want to watch well dressed ladies.
The sister-in-law took 11 of us to the new Atlantis. Don’t talk about food sweet! And nuff! I would eat some of those fish cakes now. And that soup!
Not to be outdone, brother-in-law Paddy sent me a video of a naked girl doing the hula hoop. He and I share a passion for rotational physics.
A nice gentleman at Peronne Manufacturing wished me Happy Christmas.
“How can I have a Happy Christmas without a Peronne Ham?” I asked in a desperate big-foot move.
“Well, Mr Hoad, you’re in luck. All supermarkets will be well stocked,” he advised.
But later that day he called to tell me to collect a ham. Praise the Lord! No, it’s no use coming around. The ham bone and skin are there awaiting a New Year’s soup.
Ann, a sweet Guyanese lady, sent me a pepperpot. Niece Joanne from Switzerland brought pepper jelly (made from Bajan peppers grown over there) and chocolates. The mother-in-law, one of her special coconut breads. Two pig legs from a Village youth.
Last week my wife lost an envelope containing cheques and a $50 voucher at Carlton Supermarket. A Carlton lady was extra helpful but we gave up hope. Then about three hours later a customer brought it in intact. It had been lying in the car park. That is why I love Barbados. The wife was overjoyed.
However, as head of the household I can’t let her get away with carelessness. I am totally opposed to violence, but discipline must be enforced.
I am therefore resolved not to let her touch me inappropriately for the next week. Or maybe two days. Or at least until TV shuts down tonight. That’ll teach her!
