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.

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.

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....