I ADMIT IT! I am not well. I cannot be well with the thoughts that go through my mind. Some things are sure though: I am definitely not depressed, I am never bored and I am certainly not unhappy! No, Papa. I can always sit down and amuse myself. (Hands free!)
Yes, I amuse myself a lot by imagining people stepping out of their accustomed characters, and it is great fun! Sometimes I do it when I am in an interview or at a meeting or some other place and boredom is threatening to attack. If there is a speaker at a lecture boring me, I imagine the person in a different colour hair, a larger nose and more interesting costume. If someone who sits in front of me is being too pompous and officious I just imagine that person severely constipated and sweating on his or her toilet seat! Yes I am very ill, but it works.
I usually enjoy church, but forgive me if I admit that I have sat through a church service where I was saved from death-by-boredom only by my ability to imagine the entire church choir dressed in sequinned leotards and wearing bright orange Afros! This was not in Jamaica. It was a foreign church. Everybody knows that Jamaican churches usually have more vibes than most dance halls.
I occasionally prevent boredom and depression by imagining Minister of Agriculture, the Hon. Roger Clarke, dressed in a short khaki pants singing "I am a little teapot short and stout..." Sometimes I imagine Mr. Clarke in a duet with the Hon. Portia Simpson Miller doing a NDTC dance number and he floats across the stage and jumps into her arms and she catches him effortlessly and spins him, then accidentally drops him!
BLEACHING CREAM
Sometimes I imagine the Honourable Prime Minister sauntering into the House of Parliament dressed in a pair of baggy jeans with his face covered in bleaching cream (and colourful boxer shorts showing) doing the chacka-chacka and the weddy-weddy with the Minister of Tourism. For this scene, I imagine the Hon. Mrs. Assamba dressed in a neon green wig and a pair of pink and purple tights with her chest appropriately powdered. I imagine her doing the "figure eight wine" while the other members of the house "buss two blanks and get jiggy wid it!"
Talk the truth. Wouldn't our democracy be more exciting if, instead of a boring budget debate, the MPs put on a serious DJ clash? Imagine Daddy Omar vs Audley Ranks! Or the great DJ Delly Chuck vs AJ Nick in an all out lyrical encounter. The entertainment it would provide would certainly make them worthy of their salaries. But they wouldn't do it. So since they cannot control my imagination, I just do fun things with them in my head! Dr. Aggrey couldn't iron me out; the most Dr. Freddie could do with me is heckling, and to help me Dr. Wendel not able! I am sick and happy.
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