More Meat than Rice!

So IF you know me you'd know that I had a magical childhood. I spent many an evening scrambling to do homework running between piano lessons and state dinners at the President's house or awards at the Prime Minister's residence. While most were in bed I was struggling to keep my eyes open as limbo dancers twirled by flambeau or jumping out of sleep's grasp, startled, when audiences erupted in ovation. Yes that's me, International superstar before I was even a teen. Some TV  stations still play my music video at Christmas time; cute as can be in my duck-egg-blue bowtie and cummerbund to match. As a result of my early adventures, constant rehearsals and a few other things, very early on I became the friend that's not coming. Especially these days, where I big and fat, if it's not something real easy and casual like going to Starbucks to people watch or to the movies or beach, I'm not coming. I've been on lockdown now for at least 6 months, or at le

De way people was running out of Massy yesterday with tray upon tray of fried chicken really made me stop and think about the kind of people were are as Trinidadians. What hurt me the most about the display is that no one seemed to care that I too stood in the line and waited for said chicken. Finally when I realized that I wouldn't be getting any I was so crushed that I sank to the floor in a fit of tears. I decided that the only way to spend my grief would be to clearly roll from one end of Massy to the other. A woman had the impertinence to lift the edge of her skirt and say to me "excuse me" politely while stepping over me as if I wasn't giving the greatest performance of my life. How very dare she? I received no sympathy or understanding from the security personnel at Massy as they tried to stop me and pick me up off the floor. It was only when it was already 7 of them and I heard them radio for backup that I thought I better make a quiet exit for my mo

# straightmanchronicles Remember when we was real good? Remember when you had ask me how I looking so pretty? I remember. Remember when we were organizing the party in the Basin? I remember bcuz you come and sit down next to me on the couch bcuz yur feet were hurting. And me being the good Christian woman that I AM IS, give you a foot rub all the while playing with yuh toes and singing 'this little piggy goes to market"? It wasn't sexual. It was innocent. Remember when we didn't say hello or goodbye without a hug? I remember. Not NOw. Now yuh does pass me straight like I do yuh something. Now yuh does watch me cross-eyed when I passing amidst the Beers and the Roti, the Smirnoff and the Corn Soup, or the Tequila and the Tacos on the Avenue. My loss I guess. How yuh brother? I hear he living in a whole house, with a whole man in foreign. Better yuh keep yuh good eye on he bcuz from what I hear he might be pregnant jes now and very soon. Not

# straightmanchronicles SO I on the avenue beating mih body one nite. Yuh stroll up to me and call mih name. We chat for a 2 minutes and yuh went your way. Now I slightly moist bcuz I always knew you would glow up but not THIS MUCH. SO couple days later I gets on the Facebook and add you as a friend, bcuz I decide I hadda throw my corn. **NB** Now by all the 9-10pm hour man done message around, and more often than they'd like to admit, done get blank from their regular roster of birds. AND I happen to know for a fact that from about half-past midnite to around 2:26am man does be online looking for ANY trouble to dip...I mean drown they sorrows in. **** SO being myself I didnt waste any time on small talk. I jump een yuh INBOX and say what on my mind. Oh, yuh take off behind me talkin about how you despise "homosexual sex and everything that it represents" and all kindsa long talk. SO I hit yuh a full-on "burr???" like Scooby-Doo when he confuse

Y'all spend 18 years teaching a boy not to cry, not to be vulnerable, not to show fear, oh but it's okay to be angry. Show as much anger as you want that's just being a boy. Then you women spend the next 40 years talking about my man he won't talk to me, he won't share his feelings, he bottles it up inside, why won't he let me in. And the guys you spend your life, being emotionally unavailable to your women and children, not knowing how to effectively communicate and hidin g from yourselves. Worst yet you all carry your boys through the same cycle. I more than likely won't be raising any children. But maybe someone else out there will change the pattern. Make it make sense. Life - It ain't easy but it sweet!

He was a brute. He was exactly the kind that I liked too: big and black and brooding, 6 foot 2 or 3 inches, probably 200 pounds. He spent his days working construction on the big building that was going up at the end of the block street. At least that’s where I saw him on my way to and from school every day.    When I first saw him I couldn’t even look at him without hanging my head and looking down at the ground. I felt hot all over and would blush hard, hard, hard. I tell you I could have signed up to understudy Rudolph if only my skin was light enough for all that red to shine through. With each glance my chest would tighten and my breath would quicken. At the same time lower parts of me would feel like the sun was calling for it to show itself and my legs felt as If they could not possibly open wide enough. A couple weeks in I saw him notice me. I would glance and glance and if I saw him see me I would look away quickly. He didn’t seem to care to tell you the truth. I was probabl

To all my sisters: if he has NOT treated you right for 10 years, year 11 is not going to change him. a baby will not change him. marriage will not change him. YOU have to be the change; Change your locks Change your phone number Change your hangout spot Change your routines and habits. Most of all Change the way you see yourself Change the way you treat yourself Change your expectations, Set boundaries and standards. You have to be the change because 60% of these niggas out here ain't shit. YOU CANNOT CHANGE HIM. This has been a public service announcement. Life - It ain't easy but it sweet!

# straightmanchronicles I came home to Trinidad on summer break during undergrad and if you know me you understand I was busy in the MOvie Towne the whole time (I love movies). Movie done. No car, so I walk up the stairs and cross the road to take a car into port-of-town. I am a large fella and so I am all about the front seat life. I don't remember what a back seat look like. No front seat coming up the road at all. So I bite the bullet and decide I will take the next car that comes. Car stop, jump een d back seat. End up next to you and yuh bird. Now yuh watch me hard and pull her close and start to whisper in her ear and is only giggle giggle giggle. She there grinning like a shay-shay cyat *(chesire cat - shout out to mih good sis  Benedict Anthony Rousseau ) SO I want to know if yuh telling her that when we was in school together any time I go to the bathroom under the stairs in the main building that you used to find yourself in there behind me. How when I

Trixie break bottle to challenge Fancy the night the boy come and start to work Back Bar. It was like stick fight and the two drew power from the crowd. The lines were drawn and the crowd behind each stepped quickly, swirling and shuffling, a liquid unit behind them as they as a postured, throwing long shadows into the corners. Some of the people were out for laughs others out for blood. Most of them were looking for a kinda passive vengeance at some slight or hurt feel from either Trixie or Fancy that they hadn’t the courage to carve out for themselves. It was an ancient dance, slow and rhythmic, with sudden syncopation like lightening when they sliced the air with their chosen bois. Fancy’s was the long barbershop razor she kept hidden in her breasts that she released with a soft flick as Trixie had break her bottle. Is like she know what was coming. The signs was showing that night.   The noise of the crowd pierced through everything: crying screaming women, men laughing, sid

Well Hear nah. Is because being a Trini is really something special that you can’t explain to anyone else in the world nah. We are undefeated at every turn yuh know. Is shit, after shit and what we doing? Well if we ain’t laughing we wining, if we ain’t wining we on the beach drinking rum. How you mean how I mean? You ain’t hear? Girl, I busy out on the Charlotte this morning I say let me get in town and buy some extra panty for the chirren. Well yuh know since they home from school is only ramp and skin whole day and I decide they ain’t go hurt up my head with a setta laundry every other day so. How you mean? Nah I cyah see dem clothes pile up; is every other day I does be running that washing machine. You real boldface, is what I buy it for? Anyway so girl I now put the little panty and dem in mih bag and I run across the road. No girl mih Massy bag. You know I doh leave home without it. Ha! You right Massy ain't know what they do when they start  with dem bag; and