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MARKET VENDOR: I’m all for a quieter Barbados


rhondathompson, [email protected]

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ONCE UPON a time there was this Bajan fella who was a respected journalist and had worked at that top radio station “down by the Riverside” and at the Nation newspaper and later was a big maguffie at the Central Bank of B’dos.
He also write a book which he circulated via the Internet thereby saving trees so dogs would have something to wee wee on. Stay with me people, I know I have a tendency to veer off and hit fire hydrants, another thing for dogs to wee wee on. He drove a very nice Japanese made car which also had four tyres for dogs to wee wee on. When he was in the newspaper business, in those days you would get up early to make sure when that paper came that you got there first, you guessed it, before the dog came and wee on it or worse!
This nice and soft spoken gentleman who was known to love jazz music, not now when it is sexy to be seen at jazz shows, but years before when if you play jazz music people would wee wee (figuratively speaking) on your musical tastes and tell yuh “dog bite muh, you ain’t got no dub?”
This nice gentleman one day, obviously having time on his hands and not enough dogs to tend to, living a quiet life, obviously with no dogs to shout at when barking and not having to use Jeyes fluid to clean up when the dogs wee wee where they shouldn’t and obviously loving this quiet lifestyle, was impacted by something called noise and upon quiet reflection, determined that Bubbadus had too much noise, in fact that we were polluted by noise!
He concluded that we Bubbajans were in fact being medically affected by noise of all forms, loud loud music, from music systems designed for places like Club Extreme and Club 360 but sold to homeowners, by preachers who set up tents during the Crop season when money stirring and who made endless noise with no sense, who hollered and hollered hoping to catch a few sinners but who attracted mainly a few canines that would periodically wee wee on the parked cars, by Maxis who went through neighbourhoods blaring musical horns, by Karaoke where what sounds like howling dogs unable to wee wee filled the night air with bad notes, by youts with cars that go at 25 kilometres per hour because they have a 2000 pound amp in the back seat which in turn breaks the muffler which in turn sounds a tank rolling through Bagdad, by 18 wheeler trucks with horns that could alert the entire island on an impending tsunami, by political parties and prospective parliamentarians who scream until they are hoarse and we are weary, this broadcaster, journalist, managing editor and public relations manager and author, now retired, determined that we the good people of Bubbadus were suffering from noise pollution.
I use to wonder if he had too much time pun he hands and not enough things to do but I didn’t unzip me mout! Until about five years ago I come face to face wid the said same monster called noise pollution, when a neighbour wid two dogs nearly drive me and me family into the mad house or worse yet cause me to take matters into me own hands. I thought that dogs use to bark fuh a reason but not these, these does bark fuh hours pun end and no relief, ah write letters, mek calls, get lawyer to write letters but still them dogs does wee wee wee pun me and de family night after night. And don’t complain to the police. An officer at District “A” when I explain the situation ask me what I would like the police to do. Now iffing I did really tell he what I would like them to do all now so I would be in one of Darwin Dottin’s cells at Central Police Headquarters.
Bajans real sweet doh, they can solve any complex problem real easy, friends have offered solutions which I have to admit would work but being pro life and an animal lover I could never countenance besides which I might end up next to a vagrant or drunk in Darwin’s cells again, who might wee wee pun me! So Carl Moore, I no longer laughing at you, every morning I vex like hell, the Police can’t help, reason don’t work, breaking the law is not an option, so send me the forms fuh membership in The society for a Quieter Barbados.
Right now I have to go and… You guess it, fix up my morning ablutions and head down to the market.
I gone fuh now you have a blessed and a wonderful day yuh hear?

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