The Star (St. Lucia) - Life Begins 2 Nite - - FRONT PAGE -

s that our ed­u­ca­tion min­is­ter stir­ring up the car­ni­val at­mos­phere?: At first glance the al­most un­con­trol­lable urge was to write some­thing about the lady let­ting her hair down but then we want to keep this col­umn real, right? We wouldn’t want our more in­tel­lec­tual read­ers to think we’re so unimag­i­na­tive as to be in­ca­pable of a more ap­pro­pri­ate line. Be­sides, whether our fo­cus is the Gale who is never windy or an im­per­son­ator, she cer­tainly was let­ting it all hang out at j’ou­vert—ev­i­dently to the de­light of fel­low rev­el­ers with a lot more than hair to let hang out!

And speak­ing of j’ou­vert: This is how a Face­book sage sees the cher­ished rit­ual: “Car­ni­val and its ac­com­pa­ny­ing party j’ou­vert is not about cel­e­brat­ing is­land cul­ture. It’s about us­ing that as an ex­cuse to en­gage in sex­ual or­gies, both of which are prime en­vi­ron­ments for de­monic spir­its to prey on the un­sus­pect­ing.” Well, what do you know? You’re never too old to learn some­thing new. All those years I was un­der the im­pres­sion that the de­monic spir­its came out of their bot­tles only at elec­tion time. It turns out they also prey on the souls of car­ni­val rev­el­ers. Then again, maybe the de­monic spir­its are like the rest of us: they see no dif­fer­ence be­tween elec­tion-time shenani­gans and car­ni­val bac­cha­nal.

Just 4 Andy: As if al­ready we didn’t have enough to cry about it turns out the lat­est ca­su­alty of the day was ev­ery­body’s friend, whether or not he knew them. A lo­cal banker, he was also the owner of the leg­endary Just 4 Fun. And it is no won­der his busi­ness part­ners and band mem­bers de­cided to go on with the show fol­low­ing news of his death fol­low­ing a 3-ve­hi­cle ac­ci­dent Sun­day even­ing on the Mil­len­nium high­way. Of course, to can­cel the planned big jump-up would’ve meant re­turn­ing thou­sands of dol­lars to hun­dreds of don’t give a flyin’ duck rev­el­ers who had for sev­eral months been pre­par­ing for the streets—at great ex­pense, whether or not to them­selves. This be­ing car­ni­val, there was a par­tic­u­lar aroma to the at­ten­dant hu­mor. Not­ing the vig­or­ous jooks and bapps as far as the eye could see, one too drunk to be sym­pa­thetic rev­eler blurted out. “Gassa is not RIP Andy dem peo­ple should be say­ing . . . wid all de money dey makin’ on de man head, it look to me like wha’ goin’ on dere is RIP-OFF Andy Del­mar!”

Say it ain’t so Mr. Red­man: It’s one thing to find your­self de-ap­pointed out of your cushy job at the end of a dis­ap­point­ing elec­tion run. But who would’ve guessed when Red Un­lim­ited got re­born as Red Re­bel­lion it would spell the end for at least one of the hot­shots from the orig­i­nal band. Still there’s a bright side to the sad tale. At least one red share­holder man­aged to grab him­self a con­sol­ing prize or sorts.

Bet­ter to be suck­ered than naked: Maybe it has to do with the un­end­ing guava sea­son but chances are Looshans are fi­nally wis­ing up to what the Tri­nis have for years been hand­ing them. Af­ter count­less wardrobe mal­func­tions in de road, this year’s rev­el­ers de­cided to carry not just what they nor­mally carry in their so-called wa­ter bot­tles and fanny packs, but they also in­vested in loads of crazy glue, just in case. The word is sup­pli­ers were barely ready for this year’s de­mand. Ah, well . . . un­til next time!

Af­ter the stresses of Elec­tion 666, how bet­ter to let off steam than by get­ting all hot and both­ered at j’ou­vert? Ed­u­ca­tion min­is­ter Gale Rigob­ert ob­vi­ously had a grand time!

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