I know it may seem a little late to be reading a Christmas wish list while you are choking on your chicken pastelle and reaching desperately for the sorrel. (Why do people make pastelles with this desiccated chicken filling that has the taste and texture of chipboard?) The gift wrapping is already strewn about the living (drawing) room; in only minutes you are going to graduate from the convivial influence of ponche de crème to the combative, unsolicited honesty of Scotch. What place does a wish list have now in the post-Christmas haze of disappointment with gifts that fell very short of the mark and seething acrimony of familial conflict?
The answer to that is quite simple: I jumped the gun with my Christmas column last week so I am stuck. The upshot of that unfortunately for you is that you’re just going to have to force this week’s offering down just like dem sandalwood pastelle. Quite obviously, at the top of my list would be a reduction in crime. I would honestly, in the short term, like to dispense with the onerous protocols of late-night movements. I swear my rearview mirror is going to pop right off in my hands because every time I pull into my driveway the poor device is expected to oscillate in a manner for which it was not designed. There is always the expectation that one of these days I will pick up the reflection of an unmasked bandit crouching behind the crotons just waiting for me to carelessly open my car door and walk into my house as if I am a free man or something. There’s more!
I would like to be able to put out the garbage in the morning without a reconnaissance mission to ensure that the coast is clear. It is not often a task that I undertake because I am actually heading to work at that time but when I do it, this is the play. First I unlock the main door, then scan the vista allowed by the door frame for any stupid bandit hoping for a lucky break right by the primary entrance to the home. Then I unlock the heavy penitentiary grill gate and step tentatively just beyond the doormat to do another check for killers in the garden.
After that there is a brisk walk to the gate to open it; pan left to right to make sure there are no suspicious vehicles waiting to collect the bandits who could be creeping up on me as I am looking down the street. These are just the first steps; then I quickly take the garbage from inside and put it on top of the gate. You get the mindset I am talking about, people! I still look at Steven Seagal movies because I fully expect to absorb some of his a-- kickin’ techniques and try them out on my would-be attackers.
When I am heading out of the house I always ask myself, “Paolo, do you really believe that these rubber ducky slippers will hold up under the strain of being forced into rapid flight at the first sign of a gun-toting killer? Oh and Paolo if, God forbid, they should get a hold of you and there is a scuffle, would it not be worth the trouble to go back into the house and put on a drawers just so that you are not left standing in the middle of the street covering your shrivelled junk with trembling hands? These are the things I cogitate to the point of mania; scenarios play out in my mind like a screenplay session of Hollywood writers.
Even the most outrageous possibility rolls in my head with the urgency of a premonition or even the credibility of history. I want first and foremost my peace back (or some semblance of it). I am glad that the Prime Minister is pissed, but I believe Martin Joseph was pissed too! I want more than a commiserating voice; thankfully the Prime Minister has outlined a plan and I am willing to give this Government the benefit of the doubt that it intends to pursue the objectives of this plan with the kind of aggression that this breed of bandit calls for. Another wish that I have is for the average Trini to understand his and her role in creating the kind of lawful society that we yearn for and compare ourselves ceaselessly to.
Many of us grumble about the miscreants in society who refuse to work but are happy to relieve us of that which we have worked so hard for. How many of us however contribute to an environment in which corruption and iniquity thrive? We have all propped up a culture of lawlessness and now that the ultimate evolutionary result of this culture is raping our mothers and daughters and blasting holes in the chests of the ones we love, we scream bloody murder and ask “what manner of man?” It takes courage and maturity to reckon with one’s shortcomings. I have broken the law and you have broken the law. Yes you, doh watch me so!
In quiet moments I shudder to think what the consequences could have been in instances where I was driving like a total douchebag. Now it pains me to go above 60 miles an hour, even on an open highway. When younger, I would not balk at the idea of paying for a licence, rather than squatting in the sweltering Licensing Office for months on end while people in the line slowly die. I am not offering myself as some self-righteous sage. Indeed, I still have the capacity to be an absolute tool when called upon. I do believe however that we have a responsibility to shape the kind of society that we want to live in. This is a truly beautiful country made horrid by our own apathy and the greed of others. That is it really, my simple Christmas wish: that Trinidad can become once again a place that I once bragged about to friends when I lived in Canada…a unique and wondrous place in spite of our earnest efforts at destruction.
Oh PS: My other Christmas wish is to get a tapeworm so I can start to lose weight,
because this mampie ain’t exercising any time soon.