At this time of year its gets a bit hectic for me. The fact of the matter is I started a few projects which I did not anticipate would need alot of nursing then realized I have a bit too much. I am using all the hours of the day then borrowing some from twilight to midnight. Have had to place some of the things I been working on, over a low fire and tend to my brainchild.

Brainchild: BROOKLYN CARIBBEAN YOUTH FEST (BCYF). 2009's festival is set to happen, Saturday, Sept 12, 2009 @Prospect Heights Educational Campus 3-9 pm. It will fulfill this year's goal of spotlight on folk songs written and composed by Irving Burgie. The mission of the hosting organization Hamptonians New York (Brooklyn based/non-profit) is to showcase and preserve Caribbean culture the legacy of Caribbean-Americans for future generations.

Its the 5th year and a milestone achievement, all things considered. The venue is a new location. Hopefully, this decision will be a huge success. The affair is a marvelous showcase of soul stirring rhythms that is irresistibly ENTERTAINING. Moving indoors .... honestly questionable, since our audience have enjoyed stretching out, chilling on a blanket while they take in the festivities however, it could be the best place for us this year.

The Nethermead, Prospect Park our original home to me, was a top choice location which gave allowance for growth nonetheless, its been TEDIOUS. As we make this transition, we are looking forward to a year that we leave an indelible mark. Besides, the Caribbean-American community have a tendency to come out late on Saturday for these type of things. For the most part they clean-up home, do laundry, food shop and then hit the malls before they check out the social scenes.

In any event, every September for the past 5 years BCYF highlights, groups from across the state of NY and last year NJ and Philadelphia got in on the action This is growth that I'm personally very proud. Some 25+ performers strut their stuff on stage with exuberance. Each year the audience grows so we are definitely reaping public and as well as media interest. Yipeeeeeee!!

It is really an IRIE affair. Great vibes too. There is a tight embrace of grassroot expressions and traditions that are passed down through time. We have an even tighter grip on the richness, the diverse dynamic of the Caribbean. No other region in the world is as diverse in culture as the Caribbean region.. not even New York.

So until that time...keep checking in. Some serious gorilla marketing is on the way.

Its been awhile since I came to visit. I am here today. During the time I was away I was busy thinking and doing. In any event, I've been wanting to do a few woman get-together for the longest and on Friday, July 31, 2009 I'll be having a Karaoke Night.

I am hoping for a evening loaded with fun and bookend with LAUGHTER. Every day we get up and do what we do... very little time set aside to just absorb simple pleasure. After looking in the mirror and looking at a near 50 years old woman staring back at me I knew what to do.

How many times do I have to get news of someone's death or illness; a friend or colleague experiencing major challenges before I take action. Lets share some happy news.. last night I/we____. This weekend I/we ___________. Fill in the blank

After this event I'll be planning an "Alias Night" followed by "A Crazy Hat Afternoon" We got to make time to LAUGH OUT LOUD.

The Jamaica Star :: Commentary :: One of the happiest countries on Earth ... :: July 8, 2009

The Jamaica Star :: Commentary :: One of the happiest countries on Earth ... :: July 8, 2009

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Congressman Ed Towns & Mr. Irving Burgie (Composer & Lyricist) All night we were saying, Day-O, singing Day-O, the Congress Man gets up and say "O-Day" Pic courtesy of Gregg Richards. From 'Reflection on a Legacy"-6/6/09

We have finally slowed the grieving for pop icon Michael Jackson in my home. It was something that happened because ..no lie MJ was huge. It is a lost in many ways but the cycle of life continues. I wanted to go out and have some Caribbean food then blog about it today but I've fallen behind with other projects that I must attend to.

I'm also getting comfy with the book The 8th Habit, From Effectiveness to Greatness by Stephen R. Covey. Very insightful piece of literature. Its is my nightcap. Between the glass of wine, some jazz, is this book and at the end of it zzzzzzzzzzzzz!

On my list of things today is to connect with Glenville Lovell to get that interview with him on the way. Was shopping in Marshalls a few years ago and came across one of his novels. Bought it, read it and sent it to a friend. Good read. I'd met him a few years before at a reading for his first novel. Nothng against my colleague but in plain Jamaican lingo... mi had to try hard nuh feh drap asleep.. Lawd is only the writing that did kip mi politely awake... not every writer must read dem own writing. Hush Glenville.

Additional I've made arrangements to tape a segment with Horace "Gabu Jr " Wedderburn. Gabu drums for the Lion King. He happens to be a person from my childhood. In those days 3 years older made a huge difference and me 8 and Gabu 13 make mi little pickney. His younger brother Clyde however who was in the same class as me through to high school, was my company. He is one of the first boy that I recognize as having had a crush on me. LMOA. Anyway, Gabu and I will be meeting for what I am anticipating as a truly great experiecne share. Gabu is from the island of Jamacia.

I will be learning many things as a result of this blog.. things about my Caribbean roots and culture that I will in turn teach, share or remind you. By the way.. I will be breaking out in my native tongue ever so often.. some things are best said that way, so brace yourselves.

The death of Michael Jackson recently placed me in a tailspin for more than 48 hours. Death comes, sometimes unexpected but it comes. Michael Jackson's death came like a force out of nowhere and blasted a crater in the center of the world leaving us on the banks to mourn and ponder.

I never imagine that I'd be crying for hours, tearing for days over this. Face it, Jackson have done what few have managed to achieve somewhat... unite the world. I felt like I knew him personally, yet I never met the man. I felt like he was a friend. I was not even sure I was sad or happy since John Public found all kind unconceivable unpleasantries to break him. And its not like he did not already have enough of his own load bearing.

One of my twin is so into Jackson, it took three trips into Manhattan to various tributes for her to reconcile his death. I was watching a movie with my youngest girl around 2-ish when I heard the thumping of Amber's feet running down the stairs. Thats a constant occurrence here. It doesn't take much to cause excitement and the staircase is really short. My concern was that did not fall and sustain serious injury. I really did not pay too much attention to her until she flopped down beside me muttering something about Michael Jackson. Then I noticed that she was trembling.

Three years ago I started giving them an annual daily planners and requested that they write out what they want and how they plan to get what they want. She has taken it more seriously than her two sisters. One of her wish was to meet Michael Jackson (MJ) so she wrote it on her wish list in her planner. Its a wish that will not be fulfilled. The realization of that truth had my daughter on an emotional broiler. It forced me to release her to seek and find her own path to peace.

She had the cell phone in her left hand and her hand up to her cheek. She asked for me to stop the movie so she could see the news. Her sister was annoyed so when there was no breaking news I allowed her go back to the movie while Amber tweet for the latest info. I pulled her close to me and tried to comfort her with what I felt was the truth. "He'll be fine" I said. "He is not dying or dead because he was rushed to the hospital". "Mommy" she said "people are tweeting that TMZ reported he was not breathing" I decided to stop the movie, switch back to TV, scan the channels and wait for news. Half hour later it came that Michael Jacskosn died from cardiac arrest.......but, but, bu..t MJ was invincible how could he die?

I've thought about it, talked about it but I never imagined the reality of such a thing. What a calamity. A colossal lost to the world. He was a genius, a humanitarian, a different kind of man, a black man. So on that Thursday afternoon my girls and I sat on the large sofa which we sit on often with bathed breathe, switching from one channel to the next feeding on the news. Tears streaming down our faces. The other had twin busted in the door 3 hours later. She was crying. We hudled and cried and cried.

It was going on 7 O'clock when Amber broke the circle, walked over to the amplifier, hooked her ipod up turned up the volume ".... I'm bad, I'm bad" and started to dance. We all got up and began to dance, and scream, and dance, tears still flowing. Tears turned to laughter and then chatter about our fav. From one song to the other we celebrated with loud cheers the life of an artist we adored, we admired, whose talents we had great respect for.

I light a candle and placed it at the corner of the door. Two days amber went to Harlem to write on the wall that was created and place a letter in the srine. The biggest MJ fan is my ouse had found her door to peace of her idol's death. "I danced and cried with stranges mom. I've never ever in my life thought I'd see people of all color, race, size and social status come together without any issues.... it was great." Rhythms, roots and culture... R.I.P to Michael Jackson. Rock on.

I have really been brainstorming for an effective way to combine some of the projects I'm working on. Streamlining my efforts will give me more time to be creative. This week I'd like to revisit Gloria's and talk with the proprietor regarding the projected future of Gloria's. There are three locations and all have had a face-lift in recent months.

Gloria's is a food maven in the Caribbean Immigrant community (Brooklyn , NY) known for delicious roti and home-made maubi. Its a Trini owned joint. I was introduced to it in the bottom of the 80's when I met my now husband. Since those days, I frequent the place. There is something in the chick peas I tell you.. the combination of spices I suppose .. makes mi a bit frisky. How do I know its the chick peas. I just know.

Once upon a time I use to be a serious foodie. My eating habits however, have changed dramatically. Lately I've been working really hard at eating a great amount of veggies, fruits and nuts. I never really cared for meat. Red meat in particular takes too much time to chew, chicken dishes can be messy at times and while I like a variety of seafood, after a minute I'm bored. But true to my culture ever so often I get a feeling for a plate of curry goat with white rice as well as oxtail with pigeon peas. I love my rice and peas made with fresh coconut cream, a spring of fresh thyme. eskillion and organic pigeon peas.... and is only since I came to the US and met my husband that I say pigeon peas. I know the same as gungo peas.

Caribbean cuisine is an interesting amalgam. Quite frankly it might be the most exotic culinary fare in the world. Its a meeting of traditions from indigenous to modern cultures that influence Caribbean kitchens.

Criss-crossing Brooklyn to get over to Gloria's via mass transit in this kind of weather is not so easy. It gets down right tedious. However, I am not giving up trying the green way. Walking would be a great idea but from my neibghorhood.. I'd be crazy. Anyway I am heading there on Wednesday with my camera, a note pad and an empty belly.

So I started really blogging but is completely forgetting that it doesn’t maintain itself. I am also on Twitter and Facebook. Additionally, I'm working my ass off on becoming a dynamic impresario. Thrilled to be writing….. it is an opportunity to develop my writing skills. I tend to ramble from time to time and there are times that I jot things down in that same fashion. I even babble a bit...when my brain is full to the brim. The discipline of drawing words out of me, placing it on paper to make sense and sound good, is rewarding. Perhaps as rewarding as when I paint but I've not taken the time to contemplate that notion yet.

Anyway as a newbie, sort of, I’ve got alot to learn and that includes designing a custom page. My brain has begun to squeak and wail from all the thoughts that are pacing.across it and ..maybe aging is pushing that agenda. Once in awhile when the winds of change blow by, the panes rattle. Its like driving really fast down a country road thinking the road is yours when out rush an animal.. rahtid! The sudden pressure on the brakes cause the wheels to squeal really loud, the vehicle jerk, you're pitched forward, the heartbeat speed up and a rush of nervous adrenaline full the belly... if you were in a sweet day dream for a moment, sweat good to wash you briefly or so you'll believe.

The social networks are working out for me though. Take today for example, a friend posted a video about a fella name Larry McDonald. Some ideas are better than talent. A man that turns a cave into a recording studio and use stone to make music is genius. Palpable energy that help to full-up the earth. That is nuff vibes.

I’ll be uploading my first video clip shortly…. A few days from now. I’ll be taping a segment with a *Kumina drummer as part of a trailer for a documentary. Incidentally this brethren is from my childhood. Yea so to become better at this, I’m saddling up with ideas, ready to buss my chops to make this blog interesting and informative.

When the steamer days of summer get here, I am venturing out to find more spur of the moment treats. Flatbush Ave. should be ripe and ready for harvesting. Starting at Church Ave., working my way to Parkside and across into Prospect Park, the adventure will be in the details of each trip. So lock this in and remember to follow me. Tell me if like what you read.

*Kumina is an African-derived religious ritual practiced by sects such as the Pukumina. During Kumina, bands of people 'travail' in the spirit. With an intensifying frenzy, they dance in a circle to the sound of drumbeats and chanting. At the climax, the singing stops and dancers seem to be possessed by spirits. In this state, they give messages, warnings and other portent revelations

Pic of my young photographer friend Gregg Richards & the extraodinary Mr. Irving Burgie songwriter and composer.

In the earlier years, Caribbean immigrants faced many obstacles preserving their cultural identity and as result there was quick assimilation into the American way of life. Deep imprints however, were left behind. Caribbean-American Culture, as we know it today, emerged in response to adoption of changed circumstances and the need to preserve an already established identity.

If you have never heard of this man, you definitely know at least one song he’s authored and you are missing out on knowledge of a man with astounding talents. Irving Burgie has led with culture, building the extraordinary at a time when the Caribbean region was scarcely known to Americans. His songs are playful, catchy, internationally recognized and critical to social consciousness.

At a ripe age of eighty-four years, Mr. Burgie “Lord Burgess” is truly a father of Caribbean folk music. His vast collection of songs is unparallel, his unflappable spirit, courage and embrace of Caribbean heritage echoes in his reportage. Burgie’s story as well as contributions is party to an odyssey, one that is culturally rich and overflowing with natural rhythms drawn on ancestral connections. Our off-springs will continue for generations to be proud of his accomplishments

He was born in 1924, Bedford Stuyvesant area of Brooklyn, New York to Louis Burgie and Viola Burgie nee Callender. In 1956 he married his late wife, Page Burgie, parenting two sons, Irving Jr. and Andrew. After high school Burgie enrolled in a trade school and apprenticed for a stint then eventually joined the US Army. While on his tour of duty during World II, 1943, he had the fortune of meeting an alto saxophonist in his troop and became interested in music. After his discharge from the military, Burgie studied at the prestigious Juilliard School of Music, New York then went out into the world, educated himself some more in addition to pursuing his interest in songwriting, composing and singing.

Over the past half century, Mr. Burgie has authored a ‘treasury’ of timeless Caribbean songs for stage, screen and popular recording. Under the name Lord Burgess he penned, Jamaica Farewell the first song by Burgie and several other songs for the album “Calypso”. It was the first album ever to sell 1 million copies.

“Day O” the signature piece of his magnificent repertoire, was popularized in the mid 1950’s by renowned crooner Harry Belafonte. The iconic ballad was reintroduced to generations in 1978 on the “Muppet Show” television series, and in the soundtrack blockbuster movie “Beetle Juice” in 1988. More recently, the recording has garnered notoriety ‘out of this world’ when in 1997 it was used to wake astronauts aboard the space shuttle Atlantis while it orbited the globe.

Throughout his illustrious career Mr. Burgie has also penned the National Anthem (1966) of his mother’s home, Barbados; the popular ballads Jamaica Farewell, Island in the Sun; Angelina, co-authored the Christmas carol Mary’s Boy Child in addition to the music and lyrics for the 1963 Broadway musical Ballads for Bimshire that starred the late Ossie Davis. In addition to Harry Belafonte, Mr. Burgie’s work has been recorded by international award winning artists as the Kingston Trio, Miriam Makeba, Jimmy Buffet, Nina Simone and Patti Page.

His autobiography Day O!!!, released in 2007, has garnered critical acclaim and heartfelt testimonials from such cultural luminaries as screen legends Sidney Poitier and Whoopi Goldberg, literary ingénue Maya Angelou, and cultural academic Rex Nettleford.

An inductee in the National Songwriters Hall of Fame, Irving Burgie has made an indelible mark on the cultural landscape of the world. With lyrics that transcend barriers and musical idioms that beckon listeners of diverse backgrounds, this unarguably lyrical ambassador, introduced international audiences to savior and appreciate the richness that is the Caribbean.

I have an agreement with 'Glenville Lovell' an author, to interview him one afternoon during the course of this summer. Looking forward to it. In the mean time if you've not read, get a copy Too Beautiful to Die or the sequel Love & Death in Brooklyn.

Today was a marvelous day. While I'm starving for summer weather, I hope for a mild summer. A tormenting heat wave would be fortuitous. I am looking forward to spending a great deal of time outdoors ....and sharing some of my experiences with you.

I hear a soft knock, let me go and see. Went to the door... my 1 1/2 years old neighbor and her dad. Cute as a button I tell you. She was apparently let loose to roam in her yard. Dutty.. Lawd har little t-shirt was twisted off to the side and the khaki pants.. yes .. khaki.. almost every inch, grass & dirt-stained. Her face smeared with dirt like she was getting a mud facial and what did she do... pooker up for a kiss. Besso...besso. Thank god mi had kids and understand dat it alright to kiss and hug dutty pickney.

Anywho, I am looking forward to an exciting summer chit-chatting with authors, singers, professors, artists; pees from all walk of life. I plan to visit the kitchen of local mom&pop as well, bringing you tips and recipes of Caribbean food. A few nights I'll grab a seat at bar to check out what dem mixing up these days. Bar is not like days gone by.

This poem have always been one of my favs. I love it because it characterizes the general personality of a Jamaican - Proud, Outspoken, Entrpreneurial. Additionally, the backdrop is set in the hills of Portland, a place I'm well-acquainted with. As a child I was accustomed to the sight and sounds of farmers who eke out a living growing and selling bananas.


The Song of the Banana Man
by Evan Jones

Touris, white man, wipin his face,
Met me in Golden Grove market place. 

He looked at m'ol' clothes brown wid stain

An soaked right through wid de Portlan rain, 

He cas his eye, turn up his nose, 

He says,
'You're a beggar man, I suppose?'

He says,
'Boy, get some occupation, 

Be of some value to your nation.
'
I said, 'By God and dis big right han 

You mus recognize a banana man.



'Up in de hills, where de streams are cool, 

An mullet an janga swim in de pool, 

I have ten acres of mountain side, 

An a dainty-foot donkey dat I ride,

Four Gros Michel, an four Lacatan, 

Some coconut trees, and some hills of yam, 

An I pasture on dat very same lan

Five she-goats an a big black ram, 

Dat, by God an dis big right han

Is de property of a banana man.



'I leave m'yard early-mornin time 

An set m'foot to de mountain climb, 

I ben m'back to de hot-sun toil, 

An m'cutlass rings on de stony soil, 

Ploughin an weedin, diggin an plantin 

Till Massa Sun drop back o John Crow mountain, 

Den home again in cool evenin time, 

Perhaps whistling dis likkle rhyme, 

Praise God an m'big right han

I will live an die a banana man.



'Banana day is my special day,

I cut my stems an I'm on m'way, 

Load up de donkey, leave de lan 

Head down de hill to banana stan,

When de truck comes roun I take a ride 

All de way down to de harbour side—

Dat is de night, when you, touris man, 

Would change your place wid a banana man. 

Yes, by God, an m'big right han

I will live an die a banana man.



'De bay is calm, an de moon is bright 

De hills look black for de sky is light, 

Down at de dock is an English ship, 

Restin after her ocean trip,

While on de pier is a monstrous hustle,

Tallymen, carriers, all in a bustle, 

Wid stems on deir heads in a long black snake 

Some singin de sons dat banana men make, 
Like,
Praise God an m'big right han

I will live an die a banana man.



'Den de payment comes, an we have some fun, 

Me, Zekiel, Breda and Duppy Son.

Down at de bar near United Wharf 

We knock back a white rum, bus a laugh, 

Fill de empty bag for further toil 

Wid saltfish, breadfruit, coconut oil. 

Den head back home to m'yard to sleep, 

A proper sleep dat is long an deep. 

Yes, by God, an m'big right han

I will live an die a banana man.




'So when you see dese ol clothes brown wid stain,

An soaked right through wid de Portlan rain, 

Don't cas your eye nor turn your nose, 

Don't judge a man by his patchy clothes,

I'm a strong man, a proud man, an I'm free, 

Free as dese mountains, free as dis sea, 

I know myself, an I know my ways, 

An will sing wid pride to de end o my days
Praise God an m'big right han

I will live an die a banana man.'

I've decided the time has come to develop this blog. Actually, I was waiting for the right time. Now!!  This journey must run across  the globe into various Caribbean communities. My purpose: Expand my knowledge on caribbean legacies, foods, music and art forms.

I am confident accessors from a wide cross section and background will be willing to share cultural perspective(s).

Blogging about Caribbean roots and culture is an initiative that I hope will have an impact not only my life but also the life of others known or unknown to me. I've determined that the value of who we are is far to great to ignore. Knowledge of cultural heritage will assist us to build extraordinary lives. Its proven that popular culture is imprinted in our consciousness but there must be a bridge between the past and now, to ensure iconographic value. Social awareness pertaining to the worth of our art forms is  critical.