Recession's hidden victims

On the night of June 2, the Observer carried an online report of a motor vehicle accident involving a High Court judge who, as a result, had been admitted to hospital. I was deluged with emails asking, "Who's the judge?"

How would I know? Anyhoo, by the following day, The Gleaner, whose reports arrive at my door every morning in ink, got it right. It wasn't a High Court judge but a judge's wife. Because my mind is warped, this immediately led me to thinking about things that cause fights in marriages. Well, some of the things.

Well, here I sit a'high, gettin' ideas

Ain't nothing but a fool'd live like this

Out all night and runnin' wild

Woman sittin' home with a month-old child.

It's all about the eternal difference between men and women. Some years ago, The Old Ball and Chain called me at work to report she'd just been involved in a collision with a taxi. Now, girls, you can take it or leave it (your funeral), but this is how the male mind works. The sound of Old BC's voice meant she had to be all right (certainly all right enough to call). So, I asked innocently, "What happened to the car?"

And then the fight started.

Dang me, dang me

They oughta take a rope and hang me

high from the highest tree.

Woman, would you weep for me.

That's a true story. What follows is at least partially apocryphal from years of drinking wine while exchanging funny stories some of which come from readers. But every single one has an element of truth from which one can learn to avoid contention by accepting that men and women are different.

A husband comes home from a particularly long and stressful day at work at the third job he has taken because of the ravages on the family's income caused by an economy seemingly in permanent recession. We're talking about the type of economy only Jamaica's political geniuses can construct where a picture is now worth only 200 words. He's tired and depressed. He tries to talk his wife into buying a case of beer for $3,000 (including GCT), hoping that one thing would lead to another.

Wifey, who has had an equally stressful day dealing with household chores, household repairs, household staff and, worst of all, three persistently loud and needy children, instead buys a jar of cold cream for less than $500.

Something deep inside the husband snaps. He tells her the beer would make her look better at night than the cold cream.

And then the fight started ... .

Just sittin' around drinkin' with the rest of the guys

Six rounds bought, and I bought five

Spent the groceries and half the rent

Like fourteen dollars and twenty-seven cents.

MEGA PROJECTS, MICRO VISION

So it's clear that the economy is the source of most spousal disputes. It, therefore, behoves us to do something to make it better before it gets so bad that banks start offering pre-declined credit cards. Government's grand schemes involving 'mega projects' (whatever those are) aren't likely to provide solutions. Apart from a credibility problem (I'm still waiting for the Luana Refinery to be constructed some 35-plus years after the mega announcement), mega projects have never been able to result in real, sustained growth.

Assuming these projects materialise, there'll be a brief explosion of some artisan-type jobs and the extortion racket will flourish, but then we'll end up with isolated spots of huge infrastructure doing nothing for the ordinary Jamaican.

The focus should be on education first; small businesses second. One will feed the other so that, when small businesses grow, that growth touches and concerns everyone. But, regardless, we must take a decision on fundamental philosophy. It seems to me that all we're doing so far is to look for ad hoc places to cut expenses. There's no driving vision, no purpose.

Other nations recognise small businesses' importance. This economy is driving some insane, others to suicide. A friend of mine recently became so depressed looking at his unpaid bills while thinking about the economy, the loss of his long-time job, his dwindling savings, non-existent retirement funds and variegated other sources of stress that he actually called a suicide hotline. He was patched through to a call centre in Pakistan. When he told them he was suicidal, they offered him a job driving a truck.

Lyrics quoted belong to Roger 'King of The Road' Miller from his seminal hit, Dang Me.

Peace and love.

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