Being a musician has its funny moments.
Like every other musician in the world, I have had to play all kinds of gigs to survive (pay bills, eat, etc.).
Like every other musician on the planet, I have played every musician's nightmare gig; weddings!
One such phenomenon is that we would always be asked by the party planner if we could wear "something islandy". Islandy? is that even a word?
Every party planner has the same request; for the band to look like fun.
We already had the steel pans and congas.
"Can you guys wear a flowery shirt?"
We island musicians call these gigs the; "white pants & island shirt" gigs.
I have played thousands of these gigs!
I always dutifully wore the costume that helps provide comfort to our hosts.
This reminds them of their vacation in the sunny
Of course, their
My Caribbean isn't based upon a ‘hedonism tour’ and pina coladas.
For two weeks or ten days they are our best friends, they are happy to be in my Caribbean, happy to waited upon by such ‘polite, warm and friendly people'.
Just like the travel brochure had said they would be!
Then they go home where they truly run things.
For two weeks or ten days I deal with family issues, our flexible Caribbean clock, more family issues and our gentle way of living each day.
There is something profound that remains unchanged in my people. It's there, in my photographs, when I return from the island. A true smile, the kind of smile that I’ve rarely ever seen in this country. It is a smile that continues to resist becoming totally like them.
The song we always played at the end of every gig was; “Hot, Hot, Hot” by Arrow.
Americans always break into a drunken conga line at some point in this song, almost as if on cue.
For me this song always signaled the merciless end to another minstrel show that I had endured for the sake of survival. The smiles on our ‘polite, warm and friendly’ faces meant we could leave your world now.