WE CARIBBEAN PEOPLE like plenty noise, I mean it is everywhere, in the market, the bus stand, the bars, at cricket, remember how they were going to ban all noise and music from the ICC Cricket World Cup 2007 and they had to back down. Why? 'Cause we made real noise.

This past week there was more noise about the QEH, not this time about whether a man wake up sort of from the dead in the morgue, bypass a man eating a sandwich (eating in a morgue, dread?) while begging for a blanket 'cause he was cold and bolted faster than Usain down Martindale's Road, no!

This time it was the elevator which apparently dropped some distance crashing through one floor of the hospital and landing nearly two feet below the ground floor landing like a scene from a Bruce Willis movie, door open and no doubt people screaming murder, murder! I was always told when visiting the QEH use the staircase cause you never know when them lifts wukking, and God forbid you butt up pun another man being wheeled to the morgue, more noise, more "murder, murder"! The Brass Tacks call-in programme on VOB will be hot this week.

Some years ago I Market Vendor get a lil pick fuh some training overseas in the mudda country, and about an hour out of Antigua we run into some turbulence and it went on for a while.

The Brits pun de plane were civilised even in what we thought was our darkest hour, cries went up with typical stiff British upper lips "oh heavenly father, please don't let me die and help me father". Amazing how we does turn to the father when we in need. I could tell the Bajans on board, even as I was breaking out with cold sweats, perspiration flowing to my underpants like I wee wee meself, I could still laugh as I was about to die as Baje hollered "murder" and repeated "muuurrrder" long and sustained many times!

How come we does holler murder when we in trouble though? Landing in London some hours later with black and blue marks pun my legs from a young lady next to me who sought comfort (without my permission) from my thighs during the ordeal (we had barely said hello) I met a fellow Bajan who confessed that this was his first and he said his last flight,"if this is what air travel is about, left me out".

Assuming that he was about to take up permanent residence in the UK I told him I hope he enjoyed life in his new country.

He informed me that like me he was going back just not by air! About two years later I ran into his wife, she said he did come back but by boat! Clearly he made noise and the UK sponsors made some unusual arrangements to accommodate him. He must have hollered fuh murder at the right people.

And speaking of the UK, I see Caroline Cartwright lost her appeal against conviction for breaching a noise abatement notice as her lovemaking was described as "murder" and "unnatural". I sorry fuh the lady, she expressed herself (Bajan maybe?) in the passion but tried to do something about it.

She said she used a pillow but it didn't quell the noise! And who had complained, who else? The neighbours (pure jealousy if you ask me), the local postman and a woman taking her child to school. I am having a little difficulty understanding the last two, the postman? Why should loud lovemaking bother him, lick two stamps, seal the deal, drop the damn mail and move on and as for the woman taking her child to school don't you have another route to take? Drive or take a bus or put on some headphones with the kaiso "wuk up on it"? And as to the neighbours, take my advice, turn on the TV or some music or do what you Brits do, put on the pot and mek some tea if you can't mek love too!

I Market vendor gone fuh now, you have a blessed and wonderful day yuh hear!