I can remember having fights with my sister (not physical necessarily) as a child. These would inevitably conclude with us dividing the available territory (i.e. the entire house) into 2 war zones. Each of us would get one side to control - the other was not allowed to cross over. Of course, then you would have an argument over how to divide the house because both of us wanted to ensure we had access to the kitchen, TV and bathrooms. Luckily, these disputes were often over before the next meal.

As people grow up, so do their conflicts - to a point. The source of the dispute may be more grownup (not fighting over toys and dolls) but very often the result reflects our childhood tendencies to divide and exclude. Think of the married couple cliche of “sleeping on the couch”. It comes back to “this is my territory and you are not allowed”.

As children, as harsh as it seemed at first, it was always over in no time, partly because it was also really difficult to live in a house with someone and maintain that sort of enemy silence. As an adult, it may depend on the level of feeling left, how much you care for the person. If you care a whole lot about someone then it is usually pretty difficult to cut them off for an extended period of time. Very often, that silence is a sign of where things are headed.

Of course, this is not to say that people don’t do this. Roommates who live for months without speaking. Couples that go for days at a time acting like strangers. What this actually boils down to is an attempt to “spite them” by taking away something they care about. So for most couples removing the regular interaction is a way to “take away their toy”.

This sort of emotional blackmail is extremely unhealthy for a relationship, and in fact forms part of emotional abuse. So what seems like a game as a child turns into something far more sinister, even though most adults don’t think the are being abusive by doing it. They think they are just passively reacting to what is bothering them while in fact they are using guilt, fear, or even the victims caring feelings towards them to manipulate situations.

So my advice, be careful when you do the “silent treatment”. Make sure you know why you are doing it. If you are simply not talking because you are too angry right now, and will talk when you’re ready, that can work. If you are trying to deal with stuff in your own introspective way, then that too is reasonable if your S.O. understands what’s up. The danger is when it becomes I’m not going to talk to you until you do X. That is when you have crossed over and are treading on shaky ground. And then you maybe need to think about what happens your “victim” walks away.

Today I received an interesting comment. Was a first for me. This person, who I have known (not well obviously) for about a month, told me they always thought that I had kids. Apparently I was conveying this air of tolerance and wisdom that they usually see in women who have kids, the ones who have been through it, the ones who “know”.

Now on the one hand it may just be a good thing, some wise old part of my personality that was escaping. On the other hand is it that I have just been through that much shit in my life already that it comes across to strangers? Something for me to think about I guess.

Of course, the conclusion of the discussion came when he said “Well, you definitely should have kids.” Not that he was offering to provide them for me, but it seems the impression is that I am suited for it. Hmmm.

I’m a cello again!!

There are so many things that I thought would be,
I’ve since had to realize I may never see.
Like fairytale romance, and love at first sight -
Ideas that have faded like dreams in the night

Now that I’m older, I’ve tried to move on,
Accepting life’s twists as they come along.
Replacing ideals of that perfect love.
With imperfect reality I can be sure of.

A prince on a horse, now a friend’s tag-along.
A musical soundtrack for a warbling song.
The armour I’ll trade for the soft cotton shirt.
Distant courtship becomes online flirt.

No fights for my honour but stand at my side.
Don’t give me a kingdom just bring something fried.
The slaying of dragons can be just a joke,
So long as my heart does not end up broke.

Moonlight serenades, between you and me,
Can be overthrown by watching TV.
The simple things can sweep me off my feet.
Just make sure you can rock to a beat.

The flowery prose and poems of yore
Have all gone the way of the stories before.
The magic and mystery of fairytale hearts
Cannot replace the everyday parts.

Riding off into sunset was always the end.
My happily ever after should be my best friend.
The kiss on the hand can move, that’s for sure.
Falling asleep in your arms is worth so much more.

So give me the scrabble and breakfast in bed,
The blogging, and photos, and rubs to the head.
The fighting and crying are part of it too,
Because stories are stories, but this is all true.

Well, having missed it last year, I decided to take in some of the Port Royal Music Festival. I wasn’t really interested in the Celebrity party and the main show on Saturday was not fitting with my calendar, so Sunday’s Jazz on the Harbour was it. I figured it should be nice, open air at Morgan’s Harbour, even though the lineup had not been publicized.

Final assessment? About a B-minus. The overall show was brought up by some strong performances, but the event suffered from some too common Jamaican event ailments. First impression at the gate was positive as we were greeted by barcode scanners to verify our tickets - technology is wonderful. Unfortunately, only a few people would see this as the turnout was very low. Arriving at the venue 20 minutes before showtime of 6pm, we were among the first 10 people there. Not even the sound people were ready yet. And don’t hope for food. The “lovely” hand-written sign listing the menu was a bit misleading as we were informed that the food would be ready when the chef brought it out. Hmm.

At about 6:15, we headed to grab our seats, only to be subjected to about 10 minutes of buzzing, crackling speakers. Finally some music sprung forth from the black towers so we had something to entertain us for the next hour. At about 7:20, a disembodied voice informed us that they would be starting in about ten minutes. By this time soup had appeared to help warm the lonely souls in the audience.

The show began “on time” at 7:30 with the young Esso dancers who ran out to do their jazz thing clad in the silver top hats and coattails. The first act was the Desi Jones band, a collection of excellent musicians. This was spoiled for me by the harsh clang of the solo pannist’s instrument. It is always disappointing to see talented musicians settle for mediocre instruments. I don’t know if there are any other musicians in Jamaica that do this to themselves. Unfortunately for me, he continued to play while the band backed the next couple of artistes.

Strong young female voices followed as Misha of Rocky 5 performed a couple original songs and a cover or two. She was immediately followed (and showed up) by Empress of radio fame who demonstrated her multiple talents. Her performance was vibrant and energetic, involving the crowd in the singing and providing amusement as she fought over “Her Rastaman”. Sliding up the scale, the next performer was Suzanne Couch, the first singer musician of the night. Her rasping voice filled the venue (all the way out to the ocean) as her fingers danced over the keys.

Following a long-awaited intermission (those white plastic chairs are not designed for hours of sitting), we were again treated to the Esso dancers before welcoming Della Manley to the stage. Though I enjoy her singing, I don’t find her to be a particularly engaging performer. I think she needs to sit on a stool and play her guitar - it would go with her vibe. But her set was enthusiastically received with calls for “Book of Rules” as an encore. The final act for the night was Dr. Kathy Brown. By this time it was almost eleven and I couldn’t stay to see all of her set, so her magic fingers escorted us out.

While I question, as always, the definition of jazz at these events, the night though long was enjoyable for those of us that attended. But the event execution leaves a lot to be desired and the organizers have a way to go before the Port Royal Music Festival can be held in high esteem with other music and jazz festivals in Jamaica.

Well, I am about to do something I have never done - comment on politics. Not so much because I particularly care, I am not even enumerated. But just having observed the whole process, some thoughts came to my head I thought I would share.

• It ain’t over till the brash lady sings - That was the first thing I thought this morning on hearing the results. So what happens if the EOJ’s final declaration after recounts remains the same? And then if they are taken to court and the ruling is in their favour? Does anyone see Portia stepping done “gracefully”? Does she know the meaning of grace?
• Finder’s keepers, losers weepers - Isn’t it amazing how you never hear complaints from winners about the process? They never seem to notice inconsistencies or corruption that works in their favour. It would be interesting to have a winning side say that there were issues that do need to be dealt with so we can have fair elections. Guess it’s fair if they win, right?
• Nothing beats freeness - I can’t blame those who lived in areas too turbulent to travel to work, or those who have to travel through the Mountain Views. And of course those who were voting were entitled to go, but it does amuse me how during an election when just over half (60.4% according to the EOJ) the population or the voters list (Jamaicans are not so hot on quoting statistics) turned out at the polls, the country has to shut down almost completely. Even some companies that indicated they would stay open found themselves effectively closed because their staff took the “free holiday”.
• Put the ‘X’ beside… your own name? - It is very strange how you have some of these candidates, the independents and the Ethiopian whoever etc., can get themselves on the ballot and then receive no votes. No votes? Not even one? So those in a party couldn’t even get their own party to vote for them? What about their own votes? Who did they vote for? Did even they themselves think it was a lost cause and a waste of a vote? Their friends, family? Nobody?
• Back to school shopping madness - Lots of talk about who like who, and which leader is better, but what about those people who simply fell into the group of back-to-school buyers? September = New School Year => Need to get new uniforms, new clothes, new books, new supplies, new government. I am sure there were some voters who didn’t really like JLP and didn’t dislike PNP but just figured they would vote to see something different, something new.
• Eenie meenie minie vote - Even though we don’t actually get to vote for Prime Minister, and Bruce and Portia don’t run for the same constituency, the Gleaner had on their front page “Bruce edges out Portia“. I found that very interesting because that is how our politics have developed. For many people it is not about the party. It is not about the work done for the constituency or the promises in the manifesto. It boiled down to who you like better, or who you dislike least.
• Woman time now - One of the ads I found particularly interesting in this campaign period was the one where PNP struck out against the JLP men who were disrespectful to women. Even more interesting were the comments that came back in the papers, editorial letters etc. pointing out even Portia’s disrespectful comments about women. Truth is as a woman, I can’t say I really want a screaming banshee standing up for me.