It’s all in the marketing. Rihanna, Kenny G, even Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. He’s gained celebrity status and even has his own movie. All because of one simple catchy song.
So why not try another? Like:
Sinky the Wishful Reindeer had a very big bel-bel;
if he was next to Santa, you would find them hard to tell.
Some of the other reindeer used to joke and oo-la-la;
they even told poor Sinky he should really be Santa.
Then one fateful Christmas time Santa was away;
said Sinky, “Boys, the cat is out, now it’s time for mice to play!”
Then all the others dissed him, and they shouted out: “Not me!”
Sinky the Wishful Reindeer sank into oblivity.
More on that later. This has been a great Christmas. Mother-in-law food on Christmas Day, a Sambrano “Trini- style” brunch on Monday, Ann Gale Bajan spread on Tuesday. Food sweet for days!
Must mention an Anna Went corn soup at the Sambranos. Young Straughn declared it the best soup ever. Some said, and this is sacrilege, it could give Myrnita’s pumpkin broth a run for the money. That’s not the point.
The point is that no Bajan youth should be denied the pleasure of drinking such soups. The right to drink soup should be right up there in the United Nations Charter.
Which, of course, brings us back to the legalization of buggery, the two activities being mutually exclusive.
Olutoye Walrond has joined another Walrond and Wickham to champion that cause. A formidable Three Ws combination, which has the Noble Lobby with our backs against the wall. Actually, not a bad strategy in such circumstances.
Olu is suggesting that as long as an act “does not threaten the peace and security of the nation”, the state should withdraw legal sanctions against it.
Oh, that thin edge of the wedge!
For what then of the zoophiliacs, those whose natural inclination is to have sex with animals?
A mutually satisfying experience apparently, providing that compatible partners are chosen and no force is used. Some cultures accepted it.
While the ancient gods seemed to prefer it. Leda did it with a swan (Zeus) and laid two eggs from which hatched Helen and Polydeuces. Europa had three sons also for Zeus. He turned himself into a white bull and had his way with her under a cypress tree.
In fairness, she had previously “caressed his flanks”. Few men can resist that.
Offspring from such unions would be the only problem, but these are rare. There were reports of a white Bajan lady having nine pups for an Alsatian dog in the 1950s but none since.
So, Olu, should the state also back away from criminalizing this practice which does not threaten our peace and security? Think carefully.
One must, however, marvel at these homo men.
At the Sambranos I was sitting on some steps. To my immediate left sat from time to time divers ladies with perfectly shaped, but inadequately concealed, breasts. Only by supreme effort could I elevate my eyes to their faces.
Yet one was telling me how a gay fellow walked in recently while she and her husband were having breakfast. She in her see-through nightie with the “spaghetti straps”, he in his old stretched-out briefs. “He’s Chinese,” she explained, “but from the Long Dong district.”
So they invited him to have a bite. What man wouldn’t have gone for the spaghetti, perhaps with a dab of ketchup? But no. “Much too early for spaghetti”, he intoned with meaningful glances, “but I could do with a nice big hot dog!”
Anyhow, 2012 is coming apace with rumours agog of impending ups and downs. The hunt for a new Governor General is over and hallowed will be the name of the new Attorney General.
So be it.
On a personal note, only at 69 have I discovered why women were avoiding me.
Now they’re swarming around since my daughter got me an electric trimmer for nose-hole hairs. Apparently they tickle.
My wife even trotted out her new Louis Voom-Voom handbag, bought from a Speightstown vendor, and won’t let me out of her sight.
Given what my good friends have been shelling out for such items, I am truly blessed.
