A fisherman and his boat. Bobby is a 73 year old fisherman who will take you into the bay of Port Antonio as he chases his daily catch of lobster and more. Then he can grill or bbq the feast right here on the beach. Any way you like it.
HELP MENTO SURVIVE: A pretty amazing lesson and demonstration of the art of Jamaican Mento, with Joseph Whitmore, Bull, and Jah T.
I had to stop by the most Country Western place to eat on this side of Kingston for breakfast this morning. Up in thar Red Hills is a joint called Aunty P’s Homestyle Restaurant.
The first time I walked in this place was right before BJ DjSticky took me to see Earl Chinna Smith. They were blasting Johnny Cash and Dolly Parton, with a pop fried side of ‘Country Roads’.
My trip is nearly done.
Farmers. 2 ounce limit.
Wish my right hand man Lenni I-Music a happy birthday. We are wrapping things up in Kingston on his day, and I am trying to make it a special one.
Great story: A couple days ago we wete driving around and I saw a European catch his attention because well, white people are a rare sight in the circles we are moving.
I looked at him and said,
“I have been here so long that every time I see a White Mon, I want to tell yell ‘White Mon!’
Lenni was not ready for that joke I pulled from the moment and the laugh hit him so hard he nearly started crying.
He tried to speak but he was laughing too hard,
“You been here so hard you…forget…what you look like Mon.”
People literally yell White Mon at you time to time, especially in Kingston, and it’s mostly pretty endearing. It’s like spotting a wild deer. I am like an 8 point Buck here. They have seen a White Mon, but I am a different breed. Like a fast talking bronzed Viking.
Thus while I fall under the umbrella of White Mon on a tropical and solidly African enclave; as my olive skin deepens to brown like a roasted marshmellow, people assume I speak Spanish like a Cuban or Columbian.
Happy Birthday Rasta.
Perfectly normal thing at a wholesome soundsytem in Jamaica they tell me. No filter. Just a young guy building a fire in a parking lot, where nobody is really cold, but maybe they are because anything under 73 Fahrenheit is bone chilling.
I think it was Lenni that I asked,
“why is that young man a building a fire in a crowd of people?” We were feet from the incredibly loud speakers.
He said, “he has to keep the fire burning.
“Like through the night?” I asked. “Like ‘No Woman No Cry’?”
Oh Jamaica. I love you. And I will miss you. I hope you miss me too.>
Do you even Rasta Burger?
I am no vegan. I am not Rastafari. I will eat a pig, no problem.
Seen?
But a Rasta Burger is delicious. Nothing like a balanced meal at a Jamaican sound system that is so powerful, that if you stand before before the almighty chick boom electro alter of Dub, the speakers move air into your lungs like a C Pap.
Wish my right hand man Lenni I-Music a happy birthday. We are wrapping things up in Kingston on his day, and I am trying to make it a special one.
Perfectly normal thing at a wholesome soundsytem in Jamaica they tell me. No filter. Just a young guy building a fire in a parking lot, where nobody is really cold, but maybe they are because anything under 73 Fahrenheit is bone chilling.
