Michael Reckord, ContributorAS ARTIE and I sat on his verandah the other afternoon chatting about Portia, my young friend said he had reason to be grateful to his girlfriend for coercing him into taking her to Champs at the stadium instead of going to Portia's swearing-in ceremony at King's House.
"After all," he reasoned, "if the Leader of the Opposition and other big men couldn't get seats, how would little me get one?"
"You're rationalising, Artie," I said. "I'm sure that deep down the reporter in you would've preferred the swearing-in to school sports. Haven't you seen the newspaper story about the Foreign Ministry's chief of protocol explanation that unauthorised persons took over the seats reserved for Mr. Golding and members of the Cabinet?"
Artie nodded.
"But you wouldn't have had a reserved seat up front. The seats way at the back where you would've sat weren't taken over by anybody."
"You could be right," Artie admitted.
"So by not going, you probably missed an opportunity for a good news story." (Artie wants to be a reporter and is always seeking material for articles).
SEAT SQUATTING
"That's where you're wrong, Dads," Artie said, picking up his portable tape recorder. "I interviewed one of those unauthorised persons who squatted on seats. I thought the public might be interested in how they think."
"I certainly am," I said, and, delighted, Artie pressed the Play button on the tape recorder. Here is the conversation between him and the unauthorised person (UP).
Artie: Thanks for allowing me to interview
UP: Shhh! Mek me finish readin dis prayer. "... manifest in removal of blight and poverty; the stigma and loss due to crime and violence; let the radiance of it raise a larger assertion of moral strength and rectitude in our public and private sectors. Unite our people with a stronger sense of compassion and love." Hmmh, what yu tink of it?
Artie: You wrote it?
UP: Doan be chupid! Me cyan pray so good. Is part of Portia prayer to God at har swearing-in. Yu neva go?
Artie: No, but you did. That's why I wanted to interview you.
UP: What yu want to know?
Artie: Why didn't you go to the seat assigned to cane cutters? You're one.
UP: Me did go to dat section, yes, but me couldn't see so good, so me move.
Artie: Where to?
UP: To one section mark Professional Associations.
Artie: But you're not a member of
UP: Me is a professional cane cutter.
Artie: That's not what the sign meant, and you know it. You also know you took away some VIP's seat.
UP: Me is VIP, too. Nobody more important dan me.
Artie: You're not a doctor, or a lawyer, or an engineer or
UP: Me produce sugar, and more people need sugar dan need doctor an lawyer and engineer. So me more important dan dem.
Artie: Didn't anyone ask you to move?
UP: Yes, one security man, but me neva pay im no mine. Me was a listen to Portia speech. An when she reach a certain part, de security know seh me did have a right to de seat.
Artie: Which part?
UP: De part weh she seh eddication an money an colour an class shouldn't mek some people more important dan oddahs.
Artie: Why did that make the security leave you alone?
UP: Cause im could see dat me doan have no eddication.
Artie: I can see that too.
UP: And me doan have no money.
Artie: I could tell that from the ragged clothes you're wearing.
UP: And me doan have no colour.
Artie: You do. You're black.
UP: Den you doan know seh black is de absence of colour?
Artie: Oh, yes.
UP: An me doan have no class. Dat's why me goin vote fah Portia in de nex elections.
Artie turned off the tape recorder. "What do you think he meant by that, Dads?"
"He clearly thinks our first lady Prime Minister is a no-class bhutto like himself. But he's underestimating her, as so many others did which is why she won the party presidential race."
"All the same," Artie said, "people are different and if she's to tackle Jamaica's crime and economic problems, she has to take those differences into account."