I also talk – this time as I imagine a vampire might – about the nation’s need for ‘new blood’.
Here of late, I am hearing this one, that one and a number of other people say how convinced they are that Perry Christie should go.
On other occasions, I would hear quite similar people whisper about how convinced they are that Hubert Ingraham should also go.
And after that, I hear some stuff about how the country needs new blood. And thereafter, somebody puts forward the notion that Fred Mitchell’s 55 year old blood might be getting old.
And then, a retired banker – who looks as if he was old enough or wise enough to be retired by the bank – tells me that Braynard Bigby has the right kind of blood.
And then, a Free National Movement person tells me that she just loves that dimple and yellow skin that somehow or the other defines [at least for her] Branville McCartney.
And then, I mention Bernard J. Nottage and I say some stuff about endogenous development and social justice and then some more stuff about how without vision, the people perish.
And by design, I say nothing about what I now know about blood.
[That is because I looked it up and found out that blood is always being renewed]. I also consulted with Dr. Count Bernadino and his able assistant, Sir Ronnie Butler and they convinced me that "…age was nothing but a number…"
So what if Bernard Nottage has curly white year or that Hubert Ingraham is losing his or that Perry Christie has hair that changes from red to black as if each follicle had a mind of its own…?
For my cup of tea, the nation now needs a good dose of aged wisdom to guide and direct the affairs of this troubled land.
And of course, I do not want to hear a thing from any of the wannabes about Barack Obama/ the man is a professor, his mother was an anthropologist, and his father was an economist.
So there, blame Obama on genetics not age!
To the point, therefore, big teeth and dimples need not apply; nor should dudes with blue-prints searching for answers from the people who are experiencing the problem.
I am all for leadership that understands that, the nation’s leaders must support public servants with the ability to analyze policy options, manage implementation, monitor outcomes and advise the national political leadership with courage and integrity.
I am all for leadership that understands that, parliamentarians and politicians should support a commitment to poverty alleviation, abatement of crime and violence, maintenance of law and order, private sector development, foreign investment and endogenous growth.
I am all for leadership that pushes for the development of human capital in order to capitalize on the opportunities created by information technology and intellectual property.
And God knows that I am all for leadership that, looks forward to working with colleagues on both sides of the isle.
And for sure, I am all for leadership that, looks for opportunity to make a difference in The Bahamas for Bahamians.
It is therefore on this note that I can today agree with Reverend Dr. Cynthia Pratt when she says that she always knew that Dr. Bernard J. Nottage is a man of substance and that he is a great Bahamian.
Like this good woman, I do verily believe that this brother – age and all – still has much to offer to the Bahamian people.
And as I am thinking this kind of thought about Bernard Nottage, I remember the old people who are my parents.
Here I am thinking that as ones parents age, ail, rail and complain about this or that ache or pain, you get a pretty good idea as to what awaits you right around the corner.
Such is my lot and that of my brothers and sisters as we are obliged to witness some of life’s most precious moments as a mother negotiates a passage between those people she once carried in her womb – and each is fascinated at the fact that mother-dearest knows just how to handle this one and that one.
Talk about diplomacy and then yet again, shout about diplomacy.
In a sense, this is what these fine folks have had to become as they commiserate with this or that child who knows that they are the most cherished.
But yet again, while these moments are precious, there is a sense where they are also terrifying [thus the pathos in: sometimes I feel like a motherless child… a long way from home…]
What I’m trying to say is that if you live long enough, the tables are reversed and you are left carrying your parents.
And in it all, the word remains, thank God for parents – mothers and fathers alike.
I am also thinking [and believing] that, one of the more curious things about getting old has to do with the fact that on occasion your mind so reminds you of things that you once did well-enough that you forget that your rebellious and now much-weakened body today just can’t take it.
What I am trying to say – without any reference intended to the twelve times a month dude whose wonderful wife was heard to have blurted out, Harry – you dirty dog, you haven’t done it again…!?
From what I heard, he did it twelve times a month; one time for each disciple and two times for his favorite follower – Judas Iscariot.
Instead of calling the brother a dirty dog, the sister might have put him on display as a mighty, mighty man – indeed such a mighty man among them that he could be dubbed His Excellency, the Most Honor-Rebel-Hound-Dog.
What a mighty-mighty man!
But seriously, I wanted to reflect on some of the differences to be found between boys, men, hounds and puppies.
For your comfort and my delight – let us agree to begin at the beginning.
That is to say, I begin with once upon a time…
Once upon a time – that is to say in the days when I was young and green- I yearned for the soon-coming of the day when I would be man in my own house.
As I now remember so very vividly, there was at least one strip of a girl who nursed the idea that she should – even as she flowered young and achingly beautiful in her greenness – speed up the day when she would be woman in her own house.
Here I suspect that you are now getting my drift – it was a story of boy meets girl, puppy love and heat.
The trouble with puppy love and heat in those long ago years had to do with the fact that those in the hottest part of things also happened to believe in the other proposition that love and marriage go together like horse and carriage.
This might well explain how it came to be in those long ago years that puppy love and heat very often led to tunes like ‘here the comes the bride… and stories about richer and poorer, in sickness and in health… or for that matter … for better or worse.
Wow! What a time this has been.
In the time that has been I have learned a lot.
Now I am thinking a troubling thought: no one might be listening in to the thoughts of an old man meandering down memory lane.
But no matter, I still think that Bernard J. Nottage would, could and should – yet – become leader of this country.
