The Food Of Love – Soca

 

Soca Queen (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Chances are, you have never heard the word Soca before.  You may have heard Soca songs but just thought it was called Caribbean or Island music.   Soca is an acronym for SOul and CAlypso.   It could also very well mean SOul and Caribbean as it is the soul of the Islands.  Our ‘feel good’ music, our party music, our come together music.

 

Soca is my favorite music.  With an uptempo beat like no other, lots of brass and bass, I cannot sit still while the beat of a sweet Soca music is in the air.   I jump and wave, wave something, wine my waist, whatever the song urge me to do.  Or I try the newest soca dance move.  There’s always a new dance.

 

Soca is one of those types of music that could pick you up when you are down.  It lifts your spirits and get you in a party mood, whether you are into partying or not.  Soca is the ultimate dancing music and an opportunity for dancers to grab a girl, any girl and ‘wine up’ behind her.  (Wining is the gyrating of your hips).   Dancing soca music is quite simple.  You basically do whatever you feel like. Move an arm there and a leg there,  it’s all good, as long as you try to maintain a rhythm.  There’s nothing quite like seeing a ‘whitey’ keeping up with the islanders dancing Soca.  A couple of months ago, I was at an after party and I noticed a white guy wining on a black girl.  He was giving such a good account of himself that I went over and fist bumped him.

There are some notable Soca artistes known for producing songs that are specifically aimed at getting you to get off your chair.  Allison Hinds, known as the Soca Queen, Machel Montano, Skinny Fabulous, to name a few.  The old stuff with guys like Mighty Duke, Crazy, Gypsy and Blue Boy is still untouchable though.

 

It does not exactly make you want to fall in love, except maybe with the music, but it does a fine job in elevating your heart rate and putting a smile on your face.  Soca could very well be the best therapeutic genre of music out there.  It is not however, the food of love.

For a sample of Soca music, go to YouTube and type ‘Soca Music’.

 

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Living in a bubble

Do you want to know how much our kids are pampered and coddled these days?  Well never mind, I am sure you do know.  It’s clearly visible every single day.  As a daddy, I am scared of what they are going to be like when it’s their turn to run this world.

Just a few weeks ago, I was at a bbq and happened to notice that one of the kids had a weird contraption that looked like a hand-held fan.  On the table was a shallow container with soapy water.  It didn’t take my rusty brain long to figure out what it was.  It was a bubbles maker!  You dip the fan-like thing into the soapy water, turn it on and voila! you’ve got bubbles without wasting a breath.  Heck, one could still keep up with their texts while blowing bubbles now.  Are you kidding me?

Our kids are missing the point on life.  It’s not about the bubbles, it’s the effort it takes to let out just the right amount of air to give you that perfect bubble.  Can’t our kids get a chance to break a sweat over anything anymore?  The schools work around them and allow them to be tardy and underachieving.  For example, at a meeting with one of our foster son’s teachers, he was told by the teacher not to worry too much about the work that he did not hand in during the term as he could always drop them off after exams and get his mark changed.  Now what is that doing to us who are trying to instill in him, the value of getting his work done and handed in on time?  What is this kid learning here?  That the world waits on him and he could get away with anything?

In sports, our poor over-worked children are taught not to compete.  Don’t keep scores and leave the nets empty. (no goaltenders).  It’s all about the fun of the game.  Who cares about developing the kids early? Thank goodness Wayne Gretzky and Tiger Woods didn’t grow up in this.   Coincidentally, recent studies are showing that obesity is a growing concern among kids.  They are not active enough.  Duh.

Back in the islands, we made our own toy cars and trucks.  We blew bubbles using our breaths, even though I was asthmatic, I was right in there with the best of them.  We played sports and yelled and celebrated when we scored or won a game.  No kid was traumatized by losing.  We knew our limitations so it didn’t bother us  that we weren’t the best player.   We kept playing.  Our teachers marked us ‘fail’ or ‘pass’ and nothing we did after the fact could change that mark.  Now look at me now.  Ok, maybe I’m not exactly a good example so don’t look but yeah, you get my drift.

(Do you know that they now have an app that blows bubbles for you?).

Our kids today are pampered, spoiled, coddled and over-protected.  I fear that they are ill-prepared to deal with the real world that awaits them when the bubble bursts.  But what do I know? It’s just my take.

Related articles

• Really Big Bubbles – I Mean Really Big! (francineclouden.typepad.com)
• Why innovation flourishes in a bubble (cbsnews.com)
• Our Schools

Whispers in the wind

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My most recent poem, written for St. Vincent and The Grenadines’ Independence Banquet, 2010.  (I was to read it but couldn’t attend due to illness).

WHISPERS FROM HOME

Psst…I hear whispers in the wind

echoing through the trees.

I can hear it in the distance,

approaching on a breeze.

As I get even closer,

I could then understand,

they were not just idle chatter,

but whispers from my homeland.

I hear the drums of Chatoyer,

our national hero.

Sending out a cryptic message

to the beat of a calypso.

Ocean sounds assail my ears,

waves lapping at the shore.

The whispers are calling me,

getting louder more and more.

I hear a faint melody,

distant but still clear.

It is the sound of steel pan,

sweet music in the air.

I close my eyes to take it in

but it does not last.

Another whisper in my ear

and I am back in my past.

The early morning rooster,

crowing, cock-a-doodle-doo!

I can hear so plainly,

as if I am there too.

Laughter rides in the wind,

a happy child at play.

It is like music to my ears

until the wind whisks it away.

“Hush”! The wind whispers to me,

in a soft and breezy tone.

“Listen with your heart and mind

to the sounds of home”

The whispers then grow fainter

and I could barely hear.

and with a gust, they were gone,

inaudible to my ear.