Lord! Help us...

The above captioned is more of a request, than an outcry, being the result of an incident, like a tin of Libby's orange juice falling on your left big toe and while reaching out to hold such toe knocking over the mug of juice for which said tin of juice was originally intended and originally destined to go.

But seriously.

I am scared. I am scared where as a young, soon to be 24 year old professional in a great job, in a great company, I am one of few who at limes, in my blog, in day to day conversations find it necessary to speak out against injustices in our little twin island republic.

I am scared, when at a lime among friends of similar ilk and similar calibre, I bring up topics of a worsening crime situation, what we as young people can and are going to do, the distribution of wealth or lack thereof, what happens after oil boom, where we are investing this wealth so that when it's source runs out we have something else to rely on, the need for constitutional reform, the need to ease racial tension through education, the re institution of family values, morals, ethics, simple difference of right and wrong in our children, and so many other negatives pulling at the already loose threads of our social fabric, whether they be dashiki, sari, kumono or whatever!!! I am met with blank stares, "Steups, buh wha you talkin bout you. You's ah party pooper or wha? Boy, lewee talk bout whey we limin nex week and who go be there. Lewee talk bout wha we drinking. Wha you bringing up dem tings for? Let Manday handle dat"

This is no self righteous ride of glory on my moral horse through the fields of social redemption. But when I look out there and see how many young people like myself are like this. Am I liming in the wrong circles, am I keeping the wrong company?

Don't get me wrong. I do not want to go sign up with Camp Rising Sun or Camp Balisier youth factions.

But if we're the future of this country, if the young professionals and thinkers of today do not have this at the forefront of their minds at our age, then when would it become important to us.

I'll tell you when.

When it's too late...

Lord!

Help us...

Of Mauby and Milk...

I abhor, destest, loathe milk. I find it insufferable. Unless of course in a St. James' punch or Mummy's Macaroni pie. But nonwithstanding these morphed forms, as a beverage on its own, milk and me is no friend.

I love, adore, worhip Mauby in all it's digestive enormity. I find it irresitible.

Mauby and Milk? See now, this is where family becomes interesting. A cousin, not so much biological but moreso by legalities of marriage, introduced me to this concept. Because that is what it is.

Now forgive my french. But what de @ss is this? Mauby and Milk.

I had some. Let's look at an equation. We will use averages.

1. Something I love + 2. Something I hate/2= Something I can tolerate.

Then he proceeded to mix mauby and beer, at which point I hid all other humanly consumerable beverages in my house. And even a few non-humanly consumable ones.