I see things

So, most of us have made it to 2024. Happy New Year! Last week I threatened to convert the Caribbean public affairs focus of this column into a space to which you turned for advice on love, jobs, the weather, pet care, the best curry mango, and fireworks.

We had had thick Sahara Dust last week, you see, and the neighbourhood animals were psyching themselves up for the usual assault from humans who consider loud noises capable of delivering some form of sadistic/masochistic happiness.

I spoke then of this ghostly, floating, human form I took for a late friend and colleague and literary gem who did not make the crossing beyond 311223. BC routinely imitated former Miami Herald columnist Robert Steinbeck’s annual predictions column.

The great bald one had even included some amazingly accurate predictions of his own (with some moderate adjustments including the names of people, places, and times for greater accuracy). For example, he would predict things like: Today, a man in north Trinidad will enter a pharmacy before noon with a prescription to address a lingering hangover from Sunday night’s revelry.

Then, when recording such a remarkably accurate prediction, he would insert the name of a friend he had taken to the pharmacy. Sometimes, he would also count on people forgetting what he had predicted and post-facto report on the success of what he recalled was a wild guess.

All fun and games until you notice that the last Play Whe mark of 2023 was “spider” (33). I would have lost at least $5 on that draw, since I only play “12” whenever I remember that I can get rich off these games of chance.

By the way, my number did not play on Boxing Day (even though it signifies “king” and there is no Play Whe on a Sunday or “holy” day because gambling is a sin unless the government says otherwise). Late prime minister Patrick Manning once announced to collective horror that he planned on outlawing all forms of gambling. Three years later, his party spectacularly lost a prematurely declared election. Just saying …

But, back to “spider.”

If you did physics at school you must know that either real or imagined spiders (including those that find your sleeping face in the night) can mean both good and bad things. Trinis typically believe that if you see a spider in your house (a brown one … not a pink or blue one) it means that you will win the Lotto and have enough money to light up the entire country in fireworks next festive event.

In some cultures, though, spiders bring only poor luck, especially if they rest on your face at night. This basically ensures that you’re not going to make it to the Lotto ticket booth. The South-East Asians, and others, minimise such a risk by roasting and serving them lightly salted and peppery at street markets. Tip: Avoid roasted tarantula butt at all costs.

So, “spider” played on 301223, and this means that we can expect a mix of good and bad. I hope you took pictures of the fruit punch bowl, because all of it would have been right there before your very eyes. As a longstanding teetotaller (nope not even rummy black cake), I keep my eyes wide open when confronted with a fruit punch bowl. I am aware that genuine psychics also use cards left hanging around after games of All Fours – by looking at the Jack cross-eyed and for long enough. Everything appears magically.

Last year, for instance, I predicted that a stubborn pothole along Abercromby Street in St Joseph some of us had given a name because of our intimate familiarity with it (I called it “Rohan”) would have been patched with a loose amalgam of oil sand and pitch and fought back with all its might to return within weeks to claim more rims and front ends.

For 2024 – because I looked cross-eyed into a rain puddle that had accumulated in a pothole along Gordon Street in St Augustine – I saw water leaks undermining roadways and WASA-like interventions that temporarily stem the waterflows but leave undercarriage crushing humps and sharp tyre-busting gravel.

I also saw traffic jams and confusion on main roads and highways. A puddle in Arima told me this. Then, elections. I saw elections coming in 2024 when the sun reflected off a poster on a San Fernando rumshop wall at an angle that made me squint and see shadowy things.

In fact, Bunglee Bungler comes up against Thomas Crook for the presidency of the Hapless Suckers Sports and Cultural Club. On 311224, I will tell you who I saw as the winner. I promise.