What's new, pussycat?

By Gordon Robinson

Comments are pouring in on my recent exchange with The Old Ball and Chain. Most understand the exchange merely highlights the different lenses through which men and women see the world, marriage, and each other.

I've heard men are from Mars, women from Venus. Well, I've never been to Mars, and neither of my parents was a space alien. For me, men are like fighting cocks; women like pussycats. This inevitably leads to important events, like marriage, having different effects on each.

Single women are cute little pussycats tied up with ribbon. They'll watch sports with you and pretend to like your friends.

Then, they get married, and, according to Alan Jay Lerner's lyrics:

... She'll redecorate your home

from the cellar to the dome.

then go on to the enthralling

fun of overhauling you ...

She begins to look like a punch-drunk alley cat. The wedding is like a farewell party. She invites all your friends so you can see them for the last time. She becomes a drill sergeant. She tells you what to do and, when you get in trouble, she reminds you that, if you'd listened to her, you wouldn't need help because you'd have fixed the problem long ago.

The inevitable result of this clash of cultures is divorce. The wife now looks like Super Cat, bling and all. The husband, the proud fighting cock, has had his feathers painfully plucked in the divorce and walks around naked and forlorn.

So, after the hostilities, Old BC and I travelled to MoBay to spend the weekend at our favourite home away from home, the Half Moon hotel, the perfect spot to relax, recharge and re-energise your relationship.

You can call Mrs Johnson to

keep the kids for a day or two.

Take the early flight to [Half Moon]

just the way you used to do.

Have room service bring you breakfast.

Make love all through the day.

If you're not back in love by Monday,

then you go your separate way.

The trip was really because I was attending a Jamaican Bar Association seminar (accredited by the General Legal Council so that Continuing Legal Professional Development credits could be scuffled). The seminar was held at another MoBay hotel, but I took the opportunity to score brownie points with Old BC by boarding at our favourite inn.

We were greeted like long-lost friends by the beautiful and talented Beverley McKenzie, who said she'd read my column about the St Mary hotel lobby disaster. She ensured there was no repeat. Our original reservation was no longer available, so we were upgraded at no extra cost. That's called 'customer service'. Like the iguana, it's a Jamaican endangered species.

Because of another administrative foul-up, despite my registering and paying weeks in advance, the 'other hotel' barred us from the Friday night dinner at which eminent counsel P.J. Patterson, QC, was guest speaker. I was happy to learn he addressed the urgent need to abolish the Privy Council, even if there's no immediate replacement, a position I postulated in 2005 when he was prime minister. I'm glad he's finally come around to my point of view.

royal treatment

So, we returned to paradise with a superb five-course meal at the Sugar Mill, Jamaica's best restaurant, where long-serving maître d', Solomon, treated us like royalty. Old BC swooned as his attentions reminded me of the great Roc Pavesi during his Blue Mountain Inn days who fawned over Old BC on her wedding night to perfection, rolling a perfect wicket upon which even Lance Gibbs could've scored a century. Solomon, in his 50th year of service, spoke with unwavering passion of the reward that service itself, without focus on remuneration, brings.

At the main hotel, Old BC was a pampered princess. Saturday was spa treatment time with the great Pauline. Ask for her. You won't be sorry. Whether at Seagrape or Sugar Mill, the urbane Basil 'Johnny-on-the-spot' Samuels (and his motorcycle) was always up for a pleasant chat, even with Old BC's stern warning about riding sans helmet. When eating at Seagrape, dining room captain Everett Baker was as attentive as ever, bringing an extra fan to her table to ward off hot flashes (oops, sorry, 'fronts') passing through.

Songwriters Glenn Martin and Sonny Throckmorton co-wrote country music classic If You're Not Back in Love by Monday, originally recorded by Merle Haggard. In 1977, it was superbly covered by Millie Jackson as part of one of the best soul albums ever (Feeling Bitchy).

Peace and love.

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