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02nd
March 2010
Party Poopers
 Hosting
a good party these days has sure gotten risky.
There was a time when the worst downside to
holding one of these shindigs would be if one
of the guests – or hosts -- made an offensive
remark. And most of us know pretty well how
some hosts are wary of some invitees who just
cannot find something nice to say in their toasts.
Not to mention the two and three doggy bags
and bottles each person wants to leave with
at the end of the party.
The thing has gotten so out of hand of late
that even after-parties for funerals are a dying
tradition – pardon the pun. Many of us,
though, are so quick to assume that family and
friends of the dead are either “too sheese”
or simply do not find a thrill in mourning publicly.
But I sense it may be due to a myriad of unflattering
reasons why some people tend to screen those
guests who do show up on their party scene.
But sometimes we let our guards down and try
to be accommodating to just about anybody showing
up at our party, don’t we? And that’s
just the window of opportunity the unrelenting
party poopers use to get into the party. Like,
for instance, the Kaiso 31 for Haiti Show last
Saturday evening at the National Cultural Centre.
During the first half of the show, everyone
was having the time of their lives until one
such party pooper showed up for the show. Menell
was onstage giving us another dose of her 2007
kaiso classic “Moving On.” All of
a sudden, a fella with a red cap, red tee shirt,
red sneakers, red rag and red juice bottle just
found himself at the front of the stage! Obviously,
he got everyone’s attention. As democratic
as St. Lucians are – or not – there
were obvious signs of people whispering, perhaps
making mention of the show’s intention
of assisting Haiti turning into a Castries Market-
William Peter Boulevard faceoff.
Soon, our Valentine’s Day best-dressed
winner, with his tee shirt bearing a few stars
and strips of white and the words “ALL
STAR,” took his rag – and rage –
and waved both in the faces of the three government
ministers sitting in the front row. Ministers
Tessa Mangal, Gaspard Charlemagne and Lenard
Montoute winced somewhat but the thing was so
borderline uncalled for and disrespectful that
everyone present showed their disapproval and
soon a security officer was called in to quell
the disturbance. Naturally, St. Valentine had
his excuse ready for the female security officer:
“Gassa, I pay my money, ee! I eh goin’
nowhere!”
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It took about
two more security officers to escort Mr. Red
Fox, still adamant he was doing the right
thing, outside of the building where he could
view the rest of the proceedings on the huge
screen. By then, minister Montoute, obviously
disturbed, had made his exit. A few minutes
later, though, he returned to his seat with
a beverage in hand – apple juice, I
think.
Like everyone else present at the show, I
would bet my granny’s best silverware
collection that no political party was responsible
for “planting” Saturday night’s
detractor at the NCC. As polarized as our
political parties are, this is a lowblow I’m
certain they would not endorse. Funny thing,
though, is that some people would view Saturday
evening’s tasteless demonstration as
some sort of cheap gimmick orchestrated by
certain political powers. From what I witnessed,
Mr. Fox seemed to be one misguided all-star
who showed up for the wrong party.
For the remainder of the show, I kept glancing
at the minsters to see if the cloud of embarrassment
was still hanging over them. I kept asking
myself what might have been had they not been
held to that higher esteem we often speak
of. I kept telling myself, though, that inasmuch
as we tend to disagree with each other’s
political views, we must never forget that
there are certain lines we should never cross.
And whether or not that person happens to
be Joe Public, Jane Private or Minister So
and So, everyone deserves to be respected,
especially when they’re invited to the
party. Nobody’s dignity is worth being
belittled – and certainly not for twenty
dollars!
By the way, the show was a success, nevertheless.
The NCC was so crammed with kaiso followers
and pinezz that Mr. Fox’s fifteen minutes
of fame hardly did anything of substance to
prevent fans from enjoying their thirty-one
superb kaisos. If you asked me – our
party pooper sure got what he didn’t
bargain for – his parade being the one
that got rained on. Now that’s poetic
– and colourful -- justice.
Discuss
Story
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