It had been several years since I last attended the annual West Indian Day Parade in Brooklyn. Not much had changed. Yesterday marked its 42nd anniversary and close to 3million people were in attendance representing from all over the Caribbean…even little doggies.
Oh and then there was Mayor Bloomberg and Senator Chuck Schumer- who we were trying to get an interview with to ask each of the men what “moves” they had picked up at the parade but we couldn't get close enough beside Brooklyn cops will shoot yo' ass (none of them looked pleased to be there- oh well- it's OUR day)
However, on our way walking to another food station to pick up some more rice and peas and jerk chicken we did come across this one (what someone in the crowds referred to) Hasidic Jew doin’ a dirty dutty wine with a crew of Jamaicans.
I know it’s a festive time people but ayayayayayayay- something about this image reeks of slave residue for me. I mean...I know Jews were enslaved too but...ayayayayay
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It must have been a slow week for Newsweek. Don'tchu know they've written an article about Daggering, which they have described as"A type of dance popular with some of Jamaica’s poorest citizens. It’s exuberant, vulgar, and may be responsible for a string of highly painful and personal injuries occurring out of the clubs in the bedroom."
Ok who told the white folks about this one? I know the writer didn't decide to go out one day to a shanti town with some poom poom shorts and a Red Stripe looking to dagger.
We can't share everything people.
Click below for the Newsweek article where they even managed to get a quote from promoter Jah Prince who "claims that the actual amount of extreme daggering dancers is low." Thank you Jah Prince for clarifying this for us. Thank you... Jah Rastafari
There are only five great people in the world and they are Trinidad, Trinidad, Trinidad, Trinidad, Trinidad. This is how uncle, Tony feels about his beloved country so much so that he refuses to travel on vacation to anywhere else from his Brooklyn home where he and my aunt live but to Trinidad. He claims Trinidad is the best place on planet earth, why go anywhere else. However, what I don’t understand is how he ended up together with my aunt who is Jamaican. Why not just marry a Trini instead of trying to convince a Jamaican for over twenty years now how much better Trinidad is? Regardless, Uncle Tony never misses a moment to mess with the Jamaican side of our family.
This past Memorial Day weekend, I came down early one morning for breakfast where uncle, Tony was sipping some coffee and eating a traditional Trini breakfast. He has an entire section in the pantry that is just of his precious Trini products that he brings back from every visit. He says to me. “You want some Trini breakfast?”
“No that’s ok uncle, Tony I’m just going to scramble some eggs.”
He grunts as if to say that I’m missing out. A couple of moments of silence go by until he begins to tell me that he one day saw Bob Marley eating chicken. Incase you aren’t aware Bob Marley eating chicken would be considered Sac religious being that Rastafarians generally believe that touching meat is touching death.However, Uncle Tony swears that Bob was gnawing on a bone.
“Uncle Tony where would you have seen Bob Marley eating chicken?”
“In Trinidad! Where else.”
“He was not.”
“I am telling you, Bob Marley was at Sammy's chicken shack right up the street from where I grew up gnawing on several chicken bones just eatin’ up all dat good chicken. He had on some dark sunglasses trying to hide in disguise but I know it was him. What made me even notice him in da first place is that I sensed someone was in dat chicken shack not from Trinidad only to see Bob Marley himself. ”
“Uncle Tony, I don’t know if I believe you.”
“It’s ok dear, you can't blame Bob. Trinidad’s chicken is the BEST in the world…if I was Bob I would be sneaking off to Sammy's shack too.
Uncle Tony can’t help but to mess with me this morning. He is just Trini to da bone.
My fabulous Urban Chameleon girlfriends and I call our selves looking to evolve our fabulousity this summer and decided to look into golf- anything to throw white people off with our diverse skill set. Now mind you it’s not like we go looking to throw off white people but if they would stop acting so surprised by our accomplishments then we’ll stop.
Anyhoo hoo to the hoo, the golf obsession started last summer during a trip that my husband and I took with my Jewish best friend and her Jewish husband to the Berkshires. Her husband took us to the driving range to give us a beginner’s lesson. My Jewish girlfriend is not that into golf and much rather go hiking but me being the Urban Chameleon that I am insisted on taking in every note and detail he gave me about perfecting my form just so that I can one day show up on the course in a kente cloth dashiki, Dior shaded and a head wrap and shut’em down. The following day I was ready to get back out there but my Jewish friend insisted on us having a "girls" day sipping Pinot by the pool. As much as I want to expand those skills nothing beats sipping Pinot by the pool so we let the boys have a golf day instead. My husband who is from south west Philly returned at the end of the day after playing 18 holes for the first time to say, “Golf is no bitch ass sport, I’m tired as hell.”
But this year the girls and I are game! (With the exception of the Jewish one who rather watch with Pinot) This past weekend, a Haitian, a Trinidadian, a Jamaican and a Panamanian showed up at Chelsea Piers bright and early ready to start golf lessons except for one tiny problem, THE COST! Not only is golf no bitch ass sport it’s also no cheap ass sport. No wonder there are more brothas playing basketball. Damn Tiger! Much respect and another clear example of how it takes money to make money he clearly is seeing the return on his investment. But we young adult Caribbean Chameleons are currently in the stage of trying to pay off Visa and Mastercard for all that already invested fabulousity before leaping into any additional kind of extreme investment. So trying to prove a point will have to wait. I wonder how much tennis is?
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who we were trying to get an interview with to ask each of the men what “moves” they had picked up at the parade but we couldn't get close enough beside Brooklyn cops will shoot yo' ass (none of them looked pleased to be there- oh well- it's OUR day)
