I am putting myself in the shoes of a calypsonian in 2010.  They are not really comfortable shoes because they are squeezing me.  Sometimes I think it is in punishment for not making the best use of the ten months in the off season.  During those ten months I could have been more disciplined about working with my writers and musical arrangers to get my songs in order.  Instead I did what I always do and forgot about carnival until May or so.

 If we try hard enough, all of us can hear our mother's voice admonishing us to wear our best pair of underwear whenever we leave the house.  There is always a tale of looming doom painted by the what if scenarios that all mothers can weave so well.  What if you are in an accident! What if you end up in the hospital!  What if you have to give a stranger the clothes off your back!  

For all mothers it seems their worse nightmare is for their child to be found with torn underwear on one of these unlikely occasions.  I am absolutely sure that no one's mother has ever used the what if you had to go on stage to mock a model scenario before.  However, I am sure that Pull Bois'  (can there be incorrect spellings for nicknames?  I wonder) mother was well proud of her son's choice of underwear last night.  Imagine the poor woman's consternation if the drawers had been holey.  Imagine yours and mine.

The ideas were flowing like water during Take Over Tent's second showing of the season at the National Cultural Center last Saturday night.  In my opinion, the ideas for calypsos could be put into one of three categories, brilliant, okay and downright bizarre.  That was very much the same trend for all the tents I have been to so far, but it took TOT to give me some ideas of my own.  

The idea of a King's Circus' by Super D was brilliant.  It immediately brought to mind a phrase that is a favourite of one of my brother's in law,  "Saint Lisi sa on Coney Island".  It always produces a sardonic laugh when he says that because it usually follows a recounting of some unbelievable  antics of the government or law enforcement.  

 Was it just yesterday I was lamenting the lack of spark in the calypsoes on offer from a certain tent?  Feels that way.  I was quite prepared this time as I headed to the tent to be just as disappointed as I had been in my last outing.  The fact that the tent started late did nothing to allay my fears that it would be more of the same. Just coming from a different direction this time around.  

Did I have another think coming?  The South Calypso Tent started off very slowly.  What with the delayed playing of the National Anthem, the minutes of silence for everyone who had had a post mortem  and the presentation of plaques and boring speeches.  But very soon the tempo changed and so did my mood...from despair to the slightest glimmer of hope.  

 The days of copper pennies are long gone and anyone would be hard pressed to find one today.  Yet for some strange reason, I could not get the image of one such penny from my head as I sat in the benches taking in the first offerings of the Johnny Walker Black Ambassadors' Calypso Tent on Wednesday night.   I must admit that it was difficult to muster up the enthusiasm that I usually have for attending the calypso tent.  That had nothing to do with the tent but rather the lingering malaise that had been part of my entire day.  However, once I got there I was quite prepared to enjoy the show.