For about a year now I’ve had an expensive phone – is it an iPhone? – the kind of phone you can do all kinds of things with if you have any capacity. It’s no news to anyone who reads my column regularly that my younger sister got one of her brothers-in-law to bring it when he was visiting from the mighty but so often disgraceful USA, just so I could become a member of a family group she had set up. I haven’t progressed much beyond that, but I’m getting along.
Hey, I must let dealers of these gadgets know from now that they have no lucrative sale waiting when my phone decides to go konk. I am going to get me the cheapest phone that can do those things I can do, like the family chat. If Belize made these phones, I might stretch my budget, but I’d rather give away what I have than spend it with foreign companies that count their dollar profits in US, in the billions.
Besides the family chat, another thing I can do on my phone is listen to KREM Radio. I just had to have KREM, and somehow I was able to navigate my way to something that might be what they call an APP. I bet I could figure out all the APP things, but I have my priorities. What I needed to find, I found. Some nights I’ve listened to the great JC, and it would be all good¯except that sometimes I’d want somebody to call and scold him about a couple of his political views. I won’t, because I would lose —not because my arguments lack substance (I don’t think so), but because that brother is so daam fluid.
I am oh not so eager to argue with people who can make a point without raising their voice. They don’t squander energy. All of their forces are corralled, zeroed in on their target. I couldn’t win an argument with JC, but I can throw stones at his fence. Braa, if my friendship means anything to you, leave the Queen and our parliamentary democracy alone.
Keeping the focus on people you can’t argue with, is there anyone in the world who can argue with Ms. Sandra Coye? Sandra gets away with a heck of a lot because her voice is so daam mesmerizing. I didn’t say that Sandra noh very smart, but that voice, that’s a gift from God. I won’t argue with her, but I will say that she will use tactics I disapprove of to win her points. All these people who go to universities get training in a certain art, and whether they use it wittingly or not, they do. Ms. Sandra will talk much about the vices of drinking and smoking weed, and she will say nary a word about the virtues— what they do for the mental health of us mortals.
Ah, I can’t let the great lady go without congratulating her on her incredible bravery to tell people who want to eat any and every thing they want, about themselves. For those who don’t know, it’s not Dr. Manzanero who is the first notable to throw a wrench at gluttony and sedentary lifestyles. Dr. Pitts found excuses for eating to excess (maybe he’s got a political future), but Ms. Sandra, a way back when, was the one to say ‘game on if you think you can gormandize and get away with excuses, and bullying people who call you out’.
Continuing with my broad brush, daubing paint on all the adversaries, somebody has to tell Pastor Louis Wade to stop ih r-you-know-the-rest-of-the-word with weed. For one, the intent of decriminalization of weed was for this country to do away with the terrible injustice of harassing and jailing and destroying the lives of persons who smoke a little herb. No, it is not a perfect law. If the law was perfect it would be legal, so our police and medical department could check what is being sold in Belize, so our people don’t get adulterated herb from abroad.
All unu church people who are raining on weed betta check unuself because your perseverance is a direct danger to the health of our people. Please, I don’t want to pull up the story, again, about the pastors who said hurrah when poisoned rum killed and blinded hundreds.
Well, now that I can breathe, having got all that off my chest, and being mask-free because I am 60 feet away from the nearest person, I can tell you I’ve used the fancy phone to connect bluetooth to my home radio, to listen to songs on Youtube, but on Saturday morning I said, why not bluetooth Krem. Braa, all this time heaven was right before me. Whoa, don’t touch that dial, I found my trankeelo. I would have said, found my groove, but Steve Anthony has a patent on that, and I will not fall into the grasp of the lawyers.
Hey, I declare that Mr. Tonny G, the Saturday host, is a worthy successor to the legendary Tony Wright and the great JC Arzu. I heard Tonny playing Jamesie and the Happy Seven one morning, and anyone who plays Jamesie Brewster, da roots. You know, I think there is a meeting in the sky with St. Croix’s Jamesie and Belize’s Mista Peetaz. These anthropologists, if they did a trace into the ancestry of those brothers, I bet they’d find they came from the same tree, came from a same grampa or graama.
Thank you, Costa Rica, for snatching same-sex tourists from Belize
The lengths some people will go for a tourism buck is way up there in the realms of alarming. On May 26, while all the world was cowering from the pandemic, in the real dead of night, the gays in Costa Rica escaped from their closet and took advantage of a sleeping people. We haven’t heard any rumors on the full details, but you don’t need to yer things to know that many judges, those who are sane, didn’t risk going to court to cast their absolutely nay vote to such frivolity.
It’s all vicious revenge on Leviticus, you know. If you can think of another reason why men want to marry their own kind, well, you’ve got a strange mind.
There are many Belizean youth who have studied in Costa Rica, but they never told us about this level of tolerance. Belize, smartly, decriminalized same-sex relations in closets, and that was really fair. If weed smokers can have their space, well, two men who like the same thing can have a space all their own too. But we would never, never contemplate issuing wedding rings to guys. Fu what? They aren’t planning on making any children, so their proper alley is the business registry.
Ha, this Costa Rica midnight move is a blow to our gay guys, because since the time when a famous political leader allowed them to bring a ship to our shores, they’ve been hankering for more. Their tactics have not been very fayr. Sadly, to get their way they have been a lot more on the down low than on the up and up. They have skyandal our name abroad, made foreigners believe things about us that are not true.
The Australian travel advisory, at smartraveller.gov.au, says about us: “Same-sex relationships were decriminalised in 2016. LGBTI travellers face discrimination and violence in some regions. Avoid public displays of affection.” That is flagrant exaggeration. All our humble country asks is that things meant for closets, stay in closets. You drink, go to a bar; you want to proselytize, go to a church, and if you want to waste the people’s time, go to the House of Representatives.
Anyway, in an all’s well that ends well, for most of us, out of this pandemic emerges this gay story that frees us from being the flagship country in Central America for that subset of our male kind. Yap, the G in our alphabet get wap. Now there’s no justification for a man who wants to marry an un-woman, or a man who wants to bring his man from foreign a-visiting here. They can go to sunny Costa Rica. Have fun.