Over the weekend I listened to a few old episodes of CFR (I know what you’re saying: who is she trying to kid? All CFR episodes are old) and started thinking about which ones might be my favourites. And so I figured I’d throw the question out to you: Which are your favourite episodes of CFR? And why?

For your convenience I’ve embedded a little flash player in this post so you can scroll through from the early cringeworthies to the later ones where I sound like I know a little more about what I’m doing, all without leaving the page.

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Today was one of those Sundays. Hot, deathly still, the rest of the country even more comatose than usual, recovering from last night’s Carnival revelry. It took even me, the non-sleeper, the better part of the day to rouse myself and drive out to Chaguaramas with my camera and a book.

I’m glad I did; because if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have seen the fishing boy.

(Cross posted at Caribbean Free Photo).

“. . . and their cat actually likes me,” my friend writes the day before yesterday from a B&B in Middle America. He also writes that the B&B’s owners “keep leaving little snacks for me all over the place,” though has never said where the trail of snacks leads, which leads me to suspect his hosts may be swingers, though that is beside the point. I’m more concerned about his views on the cat, which he says has “the soul of a dog.”

Now, this bothers me. Why couldn’t he have said: “Wow — a cat that likes me! Hmmm. Maybe cats are more diverse in character and temperament than the two cats I’ve ever bothered to take the time to get to know. In light of this encounter, let me adjust my views on cats“? Did he have to divest the cat of its cat-ness?

I guess if the well-meaning white American friends who told you they “didn’t consider you black” could do it, what’s to stop my friend from short-changing a poor animal he’d only just met? I kid you not, folks, people did say this, if not specifically to me (they may have, but that’s the sort of memory I might have erased to make room for a more worthwhile one), to many a Caribbean person going to school or living in the US. And they’d say it to Caribbean people who, regardless of the nuanced colour continuum they existed on in their countries of origin, as far as the laws and perceptions of the 50 states were concerned, were just plain black; but who seemed different enough from the (often very few) normative black Americans of the well-meaning friends’ acquaintance to deserve a separate category. I’m willing to bet money, for instance, that at least two people have said this to Barack Obama at some point in his life (Jeremy finds Obama’s books “slippery”, by the way).

While I’m sure there are Caribbean people out there who wouldn’t be uncomfortable with such a statement, I’m hoping it was just some sort of 80s fad and has gone out of style. I’m also thankful I never heard anybody say: “you have the soul of a white person”.

Which brings us back to cats, with or without the souls of dogs. For those who may be wondering at the sudden burst of feline advocacy, it’s actually not sudden at all. I was a cat lover long before Delphine appeared on the scene. By age four I was already the owner of Norman and Wilson, named, respectively, after a character on Peyton Place and I would like to say the Goanese manager of the Diggi Palace hotel in Jaipur, except that I met that Wilson only last month. (And speaking of which, for those of you who’ve been secretly thinking our Diggi-related rhapsodies were a little overheated, please read this. We rest our case). In fact, I’d go out and get another cat right now, except that it’s after 1am and I have no idea how Delphine would receive it — not everyone’s as tolerant as Maizy, you know.

Today is also the second day of a nationwide shut-down here in Trinidad and Tobago that some people seem to be observing, some not, so who knows if the T&TSPCA will even be open.

You people are right — I need to do more podcasts. Earlier this evening I uploaded the fourth edition of The Global Voices Show. The damn thing took me almost the entire weekend to produce. Nor would I describe it as a technical masterpiece. My podcasting muscles have turned to mush.

Here it is anyway, warts and all (and show notes here).

- MP3 (15:12 min; 10.5MB)

- Enhanced AAC (15:12 min; 7.7MB) with embedded images and links. For iTunes and owners of later model iPods

- Mono MP3 (15:12 min; 3.5MB) – smaller file suitable for low-bandwidth users

Just received this via e-mail from our local (ie Trinidad & Tobago) Alliance Française:

You’d like to share your knowledges, your culture and your language with French youngster,
you’d like to enjoy a 9 months stay in France to discover the country and meet French people,
you’d like to improve your French,
you’re enthousiastic about participating to a school life, you need this experience for your future carreer,

The programme “Assistants de langues” of the Ministry of Education offers opportunities to Trinidadians
to work as English language assistants for 1 academic year in French schools and high schools.

Applications must be returned before Wednesday 17th January 2007 . Contact the Alliance Française or the French Embassy .

Requisites :
- To be available from next September 2007 until May 2008
- To be between 20 and 30 years old
- To have studied at least 2 years at university
- To have survival skills in French language

Learn more about the programme on : http://www.ciep.fr/assistantetr/index.htm
The application file can be downloaded on : http://www.ciep.fr/assistantetr/docs/dossiers_2007/trinite.pdf

Sophie Mièvre
Director of Studies / Directrice pédagogique
Alliance Française Trinidad & Tobago
tel (1 868) 622 6119 /6728
fax (1 868) 628 8226
Go to www.alliancetnt.com

Yesterday I put together an article for Global Voices on the international blogosphere’s reaction to the Apple iPhone — check it out here.

After spending the past seven months on life support, Caribbean Free Photo is showing signs of life once more. . . .

Since returning from India my sleep patterns have begun to look a bit more like the average person’s. Yesterday evening, however, I took a dose of anti-histamines (explanation below) which knocked me flat by 8:30pm. Hence the reason I’m up again at 2am to receive the latest prod from Vernon. (I also received an e-mail this week from P W Fenton saying, “Caribbean Free Radio makes me look absolutely prolific”. I know, folks. Believe me when I say I’m trying).

RIP, Uncle Ellis:

One of my late father’s wishes was that his musician friends play at his funeral. Which they did, bless their hearts — parang instrumentals and popular songs and calypsoes. The funeral of Ellis Chow Lin On, which took place yesterday, was practically a concert, with Chris “Tambu” Herbert, David Rudder, Shurwayne Winchester (who lost a devoted manager in Ellis’ passing), Roger George, Natalie Yorke, Carl Jacobs, Pelham Goddard, Carl “Beaver” Henderson and others giving “Uncle” Ellis the musical send-off he more than deserved.

It occurred to me today that I’d known Uncle Ellis for almost 20 years, mainly in his capacity as the father of my good friend Sharon, and uncle of Tony. Most people will probably remember him as one of the founders of the seminal band Charlie’s Roots, but Tony, in a loving tribute to his uncle (and mentor), also recalled his involvement with KH Records, a key player in the development of soca music in the 1970s. Writing in the Guardian on Monday, Debbie Jacob was spot on when she said that “in the cut-throat business of calypso defined by backbiting and cynicism, Ellis remained optimistic and kind. He always managed to smile. He was one of those old-time storytellers, a Chinese griot. . . .” Ellis Chow Lin On was really the loveliest of people.

Stung!: Engaging in a bit of praedial larceny (i.e. picking fruit from a tree at the side of the road) in the countryside over the weekend, I was stung by a wasp. A bit of Googling has since revealed that the best thing to have done in the circumstances would be to have instantly applied a bit of the juice of the purloined fruit (citrus) to the sting. This would have neutralised the poison, which hand sanitizer gel (the only thing vaguely medicinal I had on hand) apparently does not.

Two days later, my ear (site of the sting) is still red, swollen and slightly painful to the touch, and my scalp and the area just below my jaw are numb. I’ve discerned no effect on my behaviour except a slight bad mood, but I still don’t relish the idea of walking around with a head full of wasp venom. (This, by the way, is the reason I took the anti-histamines.) So if I suddenly stop blogging (even more), you’ll know it’s either because I’m dead or too busy stinging baddies in the guise of a wasp-powered superhero.

iPhone bet sets friend back $30:

The only reason I’m joining the chorus about Apple’s newly-announced iPhone is because I foolishly volunteered to put together a piece on international reactions to the thing for Global Voices, and because a friend of mine says he has a $30 bet on that I’m going to acquire one as soon as they become available in this neck of the woods.

I’m a bit surprised that this friend doesn’t know me better than that. In addition to not being a great fan of technological convergence in the gadget realm, all I really demand of a mobile phone is that it be able to make and receive calls (my ownership of two fairly feature-rich units notwithstanding). Which is not to say that I deny the importance of cell phones with kick-ass features to people in communities with limited access to computers and the internet, or the value of SMS as an easy and inexpensive means of disseminating information. (Incidentally, my compatriot Taran Rampersad is predicting that 2007 may be the year of the mobile phone — and he may just be right).

Nor am I denying that the iPhone is so beautiful it makes you want to weep, and has some features that are completely and totally to die for.

Thing is, I don’t need an iPhone. So unless somebody offers me one as a gift, I won’t be owning one any time soon. Besides, the damn thing costs US$500: know how many Kiva.org entrepreneurs I could finance with that kind of cash?? Nikipedia says he’s getting one, however, so I could always play with his.

Stolen MacBook: This one’s a long shot, and mainly directed at local readers. A friend of mine had her 15″ PowerBook stolen from her car over the weekend. The serial number is SW85160Y3RG4. If it happens to cross your path, please give me a shout.

It’s 4am. Back to bed for this delinquent podcaster.

Posting this one for the benefit of the young ‘uns out there who may never have seen Sir Gary make his record-breaking six sixes in Cardiff, Wales in 1968.

Hat tip to Skye and to the Guardian Unlimited sport blog, who features the clip today among their “favourite clips from YouTube this week“.

I was no more prepared for the start of this new year than this baby langur monkey — encountered on the road to Jaigarh Fort in Rajasthan back in December — was for me to take his/her photo (more India photos here – and more being added daily, so please keep checking in). Happy New Year, everyone!

Stay tuned. . . .