Gordon Robinson | Look before you leap

The Dunce was lectured by Gene Autry about thinking first; playing after.

I posed double-six; Dessie played six-blank; Autry blank-deuce; The Dunce double-deuce. Then I went two-sixes. Dessie passed. Autry played six-five. The Dunce triumphantly played five-blank. But Autry and I had the rest of the sixes/blanks so my double-blank essentially ended the game.

“Have you tried thinking?” Autry’s sarcasm was biting as the Dunce shuffled.

“But is him first play blank.”

“Yes” Autry was gentler, kinder “but that was obviously a compulsory play. He passed off sixes immediately after. Five-blank was your last blank. It was a dangerous play.”

That was all Haemorrhoid needed to jump in with one of his famous shaggy dog tales. The perennial spectator got his name from his middle initial (Ernest H. Flower) combined with his constant complaint about “piles and piles” of files on his desk. Holding his hands up, he began on a long and winding road:

“It got so crowded in heaven that God decided to only accept people who experienced a really bad day when they died. St. Peter was at the pearly gates when a downtrodden man arrived.

Saint Peter asked ‘Tell me about the day you died.’

‘It was awful. I was sure my wife was having an affair so I came home early to catch her. I searched the apartment but couldn’t find her lover anywhere.

‘So I went out onto the balcony (we live on the 25th floor) and found this man hanging over the edge by his fingertips. I got a hammer and started hitting his hands. He fell but landed in some bushes.’

He continued ‘So, I got the refrigerator and pushed it over the balcony. It crushed him. The strain of the act gave me a heart attack, and I died.’

St. Peter couldn’t deny this was a pretty bad day so let the man in.

Another man arrived looking scared. St Peter asked him about his day.

‘It was terrible. I was doing aerobics on my apartment’s balcony when I twisted my ankle and fell over the edge. I grabbed onto the balcony of the apartment below but some maniac came out and started pounding on my fingers with a hammer. Luckily I landed in bushes. But, then the guy dropped a refrigerator on me!’

St. Peter couldn’t deny this was a pretty bad day. He let the man in.

A third man arrived at the gates looking very confused. St Peter asked ‘Tell me about the day you died?’

The man says ‘Ok, picture this, I’m naked, hiding inside a refrigerator …’”

In between guffaws Haemorrhoid told the Dunce he should take nothing at face value.

I keep telling you nothing in this world is as it appears. One of the world’s best disguised illusions blinding Jamaicans is the deceptive depiction of USA as the land of milk, honey and opportunity for the less advantaged.

I first saw through this illusion when I accompanied my father on a weekend trip to Miami circa 1968 as a prize for crushing my GCE “O” Levels in fourth form (now Grade10). An unpleasant encounter with a redneck immigration officer resulted in a vow never to return. My resolution was bolstered between 1975-1985 when Jamaicans from upper and upper-middle classes hastily “sold” assets at giveaway prices and fled from “communism” to the land of the free and the home of the brave. Their experiences soon taught them the reality that white Americans were free to torment black Americans and all immigrants had to be brave to survive indiscriminate discrimination.

So, one by one, they trickled back home with tails between legs to lower positions than occupied before bolting. Back home, most recovered to achieve even higher heights than they left.

The cycle has repeated itself since but, these days, lower-middle class professionals like nurses, teachers and junior doctors are the ones fleeing “prosperity” – the new impossible dream. They soon discover American high paying jobs are, in reality, slavery by another name with halcyon days of “calling in sick” or “roasting” or even affording domestic or gardening help missing in action presumed dead. Oh, and everywhere they turn there’s a “Karen” to call the police on them for walking while black and a teenage Nazi sympathiser with an assault rifle to shoot up malls or their children’s schools.

Don’t be fooled by the illusion that’s USA. The “American Dream” is for white Americans only. It’s not for you. So look before you leap.

Peace and Love.

Gordon Robinson is an attorney-at-law. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com