Scott Fagan's Mem.wa?

BOOK 3. Look yu Muddah De

Go Go Carnival is “done” one pass for the rhythm and one for the lead. The Sugar Apple is next, first pass,  the “under rhythm” is done, the “over rhythm” is next..  and just that quickly they are done. (Jeff’s parts that is). 

 The car is wobbling as if it has a flat, I pull into a gas station to take a look, no flat. Maybe it’s gone out of alignment (perhaps as a result of hitting one of the potholes  under the care of the Dept of Historical Preservation)

We Have a long and somewhat glorious history with pot holes here in the Virgin Islands, starting with what is believed to be our  first pot hole, best known as “fus hole”.

 This is  the pot hole that Governor  Gregory Von Hasselbum disappeared into along with his horse and carriage en route  to his fifth inaugural Ball in 1763- (interestingly there were a flurry of sightings of struggles in the hole in 1944 and people thought the Governor might still be trying to climb out so they threw in another half ton of crushed “blue bitch” granite, but that was also around the time that the US Naval Administrator for the Islands riding in a ten ton truck filled with drunken racist swabs, had disappeared, so it could have been them too).

In either case the blue bitch filler as usual, was gone within a week and “old reliable” was back as hungry as ever. Of course fus hole is only one of thousands, vying for and worthy of landmark status.

 We should have a pothole map we could sell thousands and make millions, but not only that, folks would then be able to travel from lets say WISCONSIN directly to the pothole wherein their vacationing families were known to have disappeared (or in official parlance, “last seen close to near by the general area which may include the approximate vicinity of”) which is more in keeping with the official policy which is to absolutely deny that any pothole could be responsible for the disappearance of any visitor”

You will notice however (or if you didn’t, please do so now) that the policy refers only to visitors, as it is well-known even to those Government officials who are paid good money to be in and stay in denial no matter what, that “De Sly Mongoose” a taximon of dubious reputation absolutely did disappear into the huge hole known as “Look yu Muddah De.”

That one was all over the papers because he was actually found (if only for a few moments) the Dept of Historical Preservation pot hole gang that fished him up, concluded that not only was he riddled with bullet holes but that he was so sufficiently “ripe” that he needed to be buried immediately so they applied the bluebitch balm, (in his case approximately one  ton)

A good and fancy pothole map would also save lots and lots of hassle for local folks too. Do you have any idea how many times a day local people are accosted by anxious and even irate state siders  describing their relatives and demanding that we stop what we are doing to find the dear disappeared?

Lets see..”He’s got a big fat belly and he was wearing a straw hat with a Hawaiian shirt and Bermuda shorts and somekinda flipflops, she was wearing her shortshortshorts the ones that her hiney hangs out of, with sun blocker all over her face and somekinda brassiere like halter top and flipflops the kids, Sammy and Chartreuse were dressed all in black Sammy’s t shirt said FU*K YOU in big letters across the front and back and hers said “YEAH!! WHAT HE SAID..DOUBLE”

First of all, local folks  don’t really understand why any one would want to find people like that, and secondly, it is a well-known fact (to every one but white folks) that all white people look the same, so how in the world would anyone know, saying someone WAS  found, WHO it was that was found, anyway? You certainly couldn’t go by who they claimed to be because as everyone anywhere in the Islands knows, you can’t believe a WORD white people say..

 In spite of all that, because everyone’s entire familial economics depends on a steady stream of happy (though indistinguishable ) visitors, we have come to accept the crazy idea that it is our responsibility to make sure they stay happy.

Consequently, We are all looking, pretty much all the time, all over the place for them. Did I mention that we never know if we found one of them because they are all over everywhere  anyway. In front of you in back of you, one side, de next side, up down, all over the place..! And did I mention, you can’t believe a ting’ they say?

 This whole idea of parading people through your house and home one after the next, by the millions and millions, every day including Christmas, Easter and New Years, hoping  that you will be able to stimulate your own economy as they stagger by, is a little bit loco.

 Every body knows that by the time The Cruise Ship lines, The Airlines, the Hotels Association The Credit Card Companies, The Main Street Merchants and The Havensite Mall Men, The V.I. Government, The Street Vendors and The Taxi Mon dem have had their way with a tourist, there is pitiful little left in their pockets for an honest citizen  to  pick.

 In fact, (as you may know) there are  many local families that have strange-looking white people walking around in and out of their houses with no where else to go. They have spent all their money and the collapse of everybody’s credit (which is what they’ve been living on for years) has left them stranded, or “castaways on this G’damn Island” (as the more romantically inclined are inclined to declaim)

 However, there is nothing romantic about having 50 big belly white people standing in your kitchen, refusing to eat your good Boil fish and fungi and whining for Kentucky Fried Chicken or Burger King.You want to tell them to suck mosquito, but you can’t because you have to be nice, because everybody’s economics depends on and so forth..In fact I know for a fact, that  more than one visitor has intentionally (sometimes with a little help) dived? diven? doved? leaped headfirst into “the hole of no return” hoping to find a McDonald’s on the way down, and that his life insurance payout would be enough to get the rest of the family back to the states and good Judeo-Christian living.

 Which reminds me of a local lady known as Gulping Vidalia. They say that Gulping Vidalia is herself responsible for the disappearance of a minimum of 1,000 tourists. (mostly sailors)  But wait! Before any howls are launched protesting an unflattering depiction of a native lady of color or a Lady Hispanic with the DNA of five continents in her hair, Don’t bother, she’s colorless. She’s what? Yep, And she’s not very happy about it either. Some people say that she’s an albino Portugee mix up wid a Carib, (and say that could account for the gulping part)

The fact is, I believe in flattering portraits and I will do my best to make this that. So..she has blond hair is as pale as a que ball and has  the brightest pink eyes. Ok there it is! She’s a good lookin’ girl. We ought to decorate the pot hole map with pictures of gulpin’Vidalia!