WELCOME... AND THANKS FOR DROPPING BY

What you will find here is not just about my day to day existence adrift. If that were the case, even I wouldn't read it. Of course I love music, and photography, so you'll probably find a lot here. I really don't know why I'm writing this blog to be honest... anyway here's a cross-country trek into my life, my thoughts and some, mayhaps unreliable, memoirs of a misplaced soul on its way to....

Friday, April 06, 2007

Good Friday - Good Time on Hinson's Island

It was around noon when I contacted my landlord who explained that the tank was empty and the pump had died. He was very apologetic about the water situation and noted that 'these things happens'. Being no stranger to 'these things' I was more than happy with the explanation, and was strangely relieved I was not the only one affected. There was the couple and their guest next to my studio, the tenant above them, and my landlord and his wife below me. As the rain had eased somewhat I readied myself, sans bathing, for the the short ride to Hamilton Ferry Terminal.



My brother Ayo Johnson, and his girlfriend were two of a handful of people on the ferry headed to Hinson's Island. Ayo had recently returned from Sierra Leone and England, and this was the first time I had seen him in about five or six weeks. He was on crutches, so I assumed he had an accident somewhere. Although I would have loved to hear about his trip to 'Salone', this is not something Ayo would share with me... in fact there is pretty much no communication period, save small chit chat if we bump into each other. Although I find this status quo unacceptable, I have found out the hard way there is nothing I can do about it, as he appears comfortable with the arrangement.



All in all it was a beautiful day on Hinson's Island with some kite flying later in the day as the weather improved. This took place on the water catch of the 'Main House'.

Good Friday - Water Water 'Almost' Everywhere

It was Good Friday morning and it was raining cats and dogs. The right half of the gooey grey matter within my skull was busy integrating the ambient sounds of wind and rain into a boring dream that involved filipinas.

The alarm on my cell phone went off at 5:10am and I made a mental note to see if I could programme the devise not to do that on Sundays or holidays. The left half of the gooey grey matter within my skull scripted some swedish girls to replace the filipinas in my fledgeling dream. My TV was still on and someone at BBC News was saying Alan Johnston should be released forthwith. Actually he said 'immediately'. At 5:30am my computer alarm announced itself by playing the song 'Love Letter' by Yellowman.
Go ahead and have a listen...

Next it was my alarm clock/radio. It was making a seriously annoying grating sound and it's display indicated 5:15am, but I knew it was 6:15am as I had yet to adjust it for daylight saving time. This grating sound, with Yellowman in the background, was soon joined by the BBC News theme song. My capacity to tolerate the ensuing cacophony indicated, to my way of thinking, a gifted and virtuous personality, although admittedly, it would have intrigued my psychiatrist. Permit me to digress here. I don't remember her name but she was an absolutely lovely, drop-dead gorgeous lady, and I wish I had met her under less incriminating circumstances. As it goes, about four years ago, she got married at the Newstead Hotel where I was the bartender. Anyway back to my day. It was Good Friday morning and it was raining cats and dogs, and maybe a horse or two...

The swedish girls had left by now, so I got up and turned the TV off.... turned my music up.... threw the clock/radio in the trash.... got a guinness from the fridge.... sat down on my bed.

I started to think. My plan had been to go to Horseshoe Bay Beach to photograph the Easter festivities and then make my way to Hinson's Island where I had been invited to spend the afternoon. I got another guinness from the fridge and came to a decision. I will go to Horseshoe Bay next year, and sometime in the next six hours it should stop raining long enough for me to make it to the Ferry Terminal for Hinson's Island.

I was happy with my simple plan, I'm not a complicated individual contrary to what people say. Little things make me happy. And so it was, as I looked in the bathroom mirror above the wash hand basin, listening to the Lover's Rock that was piping from my speakers, I think I was cautiously smiling. I wondered if the 'Jinx God' would give me a break today. The answer came swiftly. So swiftly in fact, it would have rattled the most ambitious of paranoids. I glanced down at the water faucet... there was no water running out of the thing! I checked the shower, the kitchen sink.... NO WATER!

Hmmm... It was 7:00am, Good Friday, still raining cats and dogs. I got a guinness from the fridge.... sat down on my bed.... I started to think.

Saturday, March 17, 2007

Bermuda International Film Festival Opening Party

O.K ... The Bermuda International Film Festival is upon us and the opening party was last night. I thought I should show up. I'll probably not get to see a lot of the movies for 2 reasons: 1. I'm broke and 2. Tickets sell fast.

BIFF is an annual festival established in 1997 and is one of only four truly independent film festivals in the world.
That's me (cross-eyed) in the middle, Tony Brannon at left. More photos here

Anyway the party was at #6 Shed (cruise ship passenger terminal) on Front Street, a great place for a party. Music was supplied by Andy Williams from Montreal and Jon Legere of Volcanic Productions and I was happy to hear some Afro beat in public for a change. Not a lot of dancing but the atmosphere was friendly. Four drink tickets came with the $25 admission but most people seemed to have a lot more. I promptly lost my quota of drink tickets but the nice bartenders didn't seem to mind. One of them was my neighbour Mark Carey of Mark Carey Consulting Inc (I actually didn't recognize him out of context) and I knew the rest.

Two reasons i'm glad I showed up are Ozette and Lila visiting from New York. Lila is an aspiring actress and i'm sure she'll make it. I was immediately attracted to her (pictured right) and instinct told me she was leaving the next day ... she was. This unconditional attraction occurs infrequently with me but the subject is always leaving the next day!

Tony Brannon was at the party still thankful I found and returned his credit card earlier today on my job. Also present was Sylvester from Dominica. He's also a long time resident in Bermuda working as a detective with the Bermuda Police, and the guy in Marissa's life. Marissa is my co-worker from the Philippines. I've never really met Sylvester before and he appears to be a genuinely nice guy.

All in all a pleasant evening. I left after 1 am and headed over to Cafe Cairo across the road. The place was packed with at least 50 people waiting outside to get in. They would not be allowed in as the place was too full. Sylvester had already entered ... I lost him whilst making sure I hadn't lost Lila's email. Security was tight and my new found acquaintance with Sylvester came in handy. I mentioned to a big bouncer that I was with Sylvester... he got hold of Sylvester and confirmed this to be the case. Magic things happen when you know the right people, I jumped the line and strolled in - my status in society greatly enhanced.

Friday, March 16, 2007

Another Day At Work

...Another wasted day at the restaurant where I work as a waiter. This happens with alarming frequency and I am working on changing this. Words like 'clueless' 'arrogant' and 'condescending' come to mind when I think of my immediate boss. She prefers 'Manager'. Apart from the abuse, I'm no longer making a living - something has got to change.

Tony Brannon dropped in for breakfast and I happened to find his credit card after he left. I called him during my break and he came back grateful. Believe it or not on my job I would get in trouble for not handing the card to them. They would have kept the card 'till Monday when Tony came in for breakfast. Also I would probably have been ridiculed for going the extra mile, so I said nothing.

Tonight is The Bermuda Film Festival Opening Party and I am looking forward to that.

Thursday, March 15, 2007

In Da Beginning - Making An Entrance

I was born unconscious in Bathurst (now Banjul) The Gambia, on March 25 as expected. The cause of my lethargy? - triple nuchal cord entanglement. The umbilical cord was wrapped, three times, tightly around my neck, preventing breathing and also the tinny gurgling sounds associated with live birth the world over. Anxious and genuine efforts were made to save me before being abandoned.... nonetheless, without legal representation present, I opened my eyes and without making a sound, joined the human race. Time - shortly before lunch. There was a second strangling incident later on in my life. This time at the hands of a male nurse whilst I was a patient in hospital in Sierra Leone. I almost killed him... but I digress, that's another story.

The nurse accredited with saving my life named me Phillip so I am told, however the value of this deed is as yet unrealized. Her name was (Phyllis?) Morrison, a very nice Jamaican lady, so i'm told, on her last day on duty before returning to Jamaica. The name Phillip itself has no sentimental significance to anyone, however Prince Philip was visiting at the time and I am grateful for the extra 'L'.

Morrison had been at our house the day before going over baby names with Mum. My mum, a nurse herself, had written only female names down with no thought I might be a boy. Her logic - she wanted a girl. This kind of logic persisted relentlessly for the next... well let's just say long time, and has been at the root of much misunderstanding, to put it mildly. My first name is Omodele. It is a Yoruba name from Nigeria (for boy or girl) and I was told it means 'a child brings joy'. Instinct told me otherwise so I looked it up. it actually means 'lost child', although well-meaning people translate it as 'a child has come home'. Indeed The Oxford English Dictionary notes the word 'dele' as an abbreviation of the word 'deleatur' (let it be deleted). Lesser well-meaning people could suggest 'let the child be deleted' as apt. The Yoruba name for 'a child brings joy' is Omolayo. Anyway, I digress. Despite having a Unisex name, mum called me 'Baby' and dressed me with pink ribbons in my hair for a time period considerably longer than a phase. I also have reasons to believe she thought (thinks?) me to be retarded. You see I spoke Wolof, a language my parents didn't recgnise as intelligent speech, until they witnessed an actual conversation with a stranger.

'Phillip' is my second name, it means 'lover of horses', and as with my first name, the shoe fits. Some of the best days of my life was spent on horseback. roaming The New Forest in Hampshire, England... but that's another story.

I do have a third given name but I'm not ready to talk about that right now. Perhaps later.

I Almost Died Today

3:30pm work is over. I was dead tired after 9 hours on a slow moving job but time to head off to Somerset to see mum. I was in a jovial mood and wondering why.

Half way to Somerset I stopped at Island Cuisine to say 'hi' to a pretty Filipina that worked there and have a scone and coffee. She left at 2 her aunt told me. This aunt also worked there and I had long since given up pretending my intentions were honourable. She gazed at me with undisguised malevolence as I drank my coffee. I knew what she was thinking. 20 months ago I lived right behind this restaurant. Vanessa and her aunt Joy lived in Flatts. I then moved to Flatts two houses away from theirs only to find them moving to Warwick. Joy was counting her blessings. This kind of thing happens to me all the time. It could unsettle the average sound fella.

4:45pm I arrived at mum's my gas tank was empty. She wasn't there. I waited.

5:15pm I thought I would go to the gas station for a fill-up. What happened next I could never make up. My clutch cable broke..... I brought my bike to a 'controlled' stop and lit a cigarette.

5:40pm I had managed a temporary fix for the clutch and headed for the gas station. I was thinking again... Er... I mean 'musing' (a calm lengthy intent consideration) I couldn't take the bike back to the guy who sold me the lemon, I still owed him $128 for replacing the gas valve that just broke two months ago whilst I was riding home, emptying the contents of the gas tank on East Broadway. But then again he hadn't called me either since I left a calm message saying I was not a happy camper and to please respect my destructive capabilities by not provoking me. The saga of my bike is another story.

The car in front of me pulled to one side and as I passed him the driver yelled something. The youth on a motorbike behind me whizzed past me. I turned to see who was yelling at me, and more importantly why. As I looked forward again I found that traffic had come to a halt and I was already on top of the terrified youth on the bike.... almost.

I engaged my tattered clutch and shifted my weight to the left. There was a scrapping sound and right away I knew what the nice man in the car was yelling. My kick-stand was down. I just clipped the youth, then I tested my disc brakes... They worked, and I stopped on a dime... about two dimes (and several thousand dollars) away from the back of a BMW. The youth looked at me and got off his bike. I looked back, and to his credit got back on and rode off.

6:00pm Back at mum's. I waited

6:20pm I gave up and went home arriving just after 7:00pm. My right cheek buzzed as I entered my studio.

"Where are you?"
"Home.... I waited a While"
"Oh no. I had to stop at the...... when can you come back?"
"Er..I'll have to get back to you. I have something tomorrow evening but I forget what or when."

It turned out it was the BIFF Opening Party but mum called to say a neighbour had sorted her out. I lay on my bed and reflected. I thought about how I might leave this world... Then I thought about how I entered.

Another Day At Work - Mum Called

It started at work. 9:47am whilst serving a customer.

"Coffee and a newspaper... and a plastic bag for the paper"
I cleared my throat - that would have to suffice for a response - then put my order pad in my apron without writing down anything. Something had distracted me and my mind was wandering. I was thinking 'there goes my 25 cent gratuity...'
There it was again.... an insistent buzz on my right cheek. It was my cell phone. You see I had put the device on vibrate and then placed the thing in my right back pocket. I returned with the coffee, newspaper and plastic 'thank you' bag, then asked, unnecessarily if there was anything else. There wasn't.

The buzzing stopped. Instinct told me fate was busy rearranging my placid life.

I returned to the counter to let the boss know I didn't write a check. He probably didn't hear me - he was brooding because it was slow and will need to pick on me soon. I started rolling silver and began to think. Marissa started polishing silver. Lawrence hid at his deserted station in the courtyard.

About that 25 cents. If I wrote a check for coffee and a newspaper I have to charge gratuities for both. I got in trouble for calculating only the coffee once because my boss says it's not possible to ring it up that way. Also I'm not about to charge a customer 15% for a newspaper.

About that phone call. It was my mum. She had bought a toaster-oven and could I assist her in getting it out of her car and into the house after work. It was too heavy for her. I said 'no problem' and thought some more.

I hadn't spoken to mum in a while and was feeling guilty. Also she sounded pleasant and wasn't yelling at me. Maybe she was beginning to understand that yelling doesn't work anymore with me. I resolved to head up to Somerset at 3:45pm and miss the west end rush hour traffic. It would mean not eating for the day. If I stayed an hour or so I could leave at 6 ish and be home in Flatts at 7 ish. Then I could either eat or do my laundry.

I had a plan. Instinct was trying to tell me something....

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Spotlight Party

Some music for you - Sonific SongSpot: Don't They or check this out Sonific SongSpot: Give Me the Night

Volcanic Productions has done it again! These guys know how to throw a party. This year's Spotlight Party took place last night in the Princess room and Regency Terrace at the Fairmont Hamilton Princess Hotel. And so it was in my fancy green pants, feeling a little under the weather, at around 10.30pm I made my entrance...

As usual the guest list and others who footed the paltry sum of $40 consisted of people you actually want to meet... cool people is what i'm saying. I mean I showed up (o.k I digress)... but you catch my drift huh? The gals outnumbered the guys, which is always a good thing, and a good number had on green. Let me explain myself. At this party green means you're available, red means taken, and amber I guess would depend on who's asking, on the fence, swinger... There is no confusion here like in other parties where a guy has to stake out the girls and look for 'available' signs - the ring on her finger, which finger? what does that smile mean? Is that guy her boyfriend? Who are her girlfriends? Do I know any of them? etc.. The process is not glamorous and includes, but is not limited to, one's ability to make a smooth transition from 'I am so interested in you' to 'just making friendly conversation' A guy can be made or broken in milliseconds depending on this ability or his cologne. No such nonsense at the Spotlight Party... all the guys had on nice cologne.

The Kissing Booth, with veteran photographer Meridith Andrews on hand, took care of the professional photography. Those photos should show up here.

Here's Meredith in action at The Kissing Booth
Spotlight Party Feb 24 '07 - 46.jpg

The music was also off da hook featuring The Butcha (VP's resident NYC DJ), Skilatchi, and the Dirkistan Freedom Fighters. Over the top? Perhaps but that's VP for you. Dancehall, Hip Hop, Old School and midnight tribute to James Brown from The Butcha. All in all an excellent night. 'Nuff respect to Jon Legere, The man behind VP.

From Spotlight Party


For my photos of the action click the photo or click HERE
Spotlight Party Feb 24 '07 - 105.jpg
Pictured is The Butcha from New York

Sunday, February 18, 2007

The Music Scene in Sierra Leone

MUSIC - Da Tumba Dae by Succulent
Well I spent the weekend home alone listening, and dancing(?) to African music. Henry, an old friend in Sierra Leone now living in Bermuda, provided me with two CDs of Salone musicians, Emmerson and Succulent and they got most of the air time. For news about Sierra Leone musicians and entertainment click Emmerson's photo below to see what's going on. (Or CLICK HERE)

Pictured Is Emmerson Amidu Bockarie. His second album, "Tu Fut Arata" will be launched Feb 23 at the National Stadium in Sierra Leone. Wish I could be there.




VIDEO: "Borbor Bele" by EMMERSON.

Expat. Sent Packing For Dissing Bermuda M.P

Is it possible that disrespect is grounds for revoking work permits?


-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Talk To Me ... Or Listen To Some Music
Move your mouse over the music player
and click on 'pop this player out'