Obese Cops

Ok, here comes an entry that will probably put my butt into the fire, but I can guarantee this is a topic that has crossed the minds of MOST of us on this island at one point or another. The topic: Police Fitness.

This topic came to mind while I was driving down Pondfill road and had to stop at the roundabout for a pedestrian. The person crossing the street was a police officer coming from the police station. What really caught my attention was the sheer size of this officer. He was clearly obese. Well over 300lbs. This is not an exaggeration. The 1st thing that popped into my mind was: How could this guy chase down a criminal if need be? The cop is one of many I've seen on the force who are clearly not in top physical form. It also got me wondering about who's in charge of clearing these cops for duty? Is there a requirement? An exam? Do they have to run a 12 minute mile? Do 50 sit ups in under a minute? 50 pull ups in under 2 minutes? Clearly not. Is there a physician that has to sign off on a form to clear officers for active duty?

Not 5 minutes after seeing this cop I caught sight of the new recruits running along the side of the road, their commander shouting at them to keep pace with each other. What a contradiction of terms!

I mentioned the overweight cop to a friend of mine who casually remarked 'Well maybe he sits at a desk.' I thought about that for a minute and realized it doesn't excuse the clearly unhealthy situation. So what if he sits at a desk? Shouldn't he be setting an example? And I have seen plenty of other cops out on the road, doing road controls & whatnot whoa re clearly not in their physical prime. Think about it...A robbery occurs and the suspects are on foot. Who's going to give chase? An obese cop who'll end up having a heart attack after twenty paces? We've all seen examples of this as we pass through countless road controls or even coming out of the airport/customs. And to be fair, it's not just the cops. I've seen fat customs agents, immigration officials and even security guards. You think the overweight security guard standing watch at the bank after hours is going to be able to run down a thief that just stole your money?

Myself and friend witness another overweight cop struggling to make his way up the stairs at an establishment. No more than 2 flights of stairs and the cop was clearly winded at the top. He stood, stooped over, obviously trying to catch his breath. Shameful. It's quite obvious that health & weight issues are running rampant throughout the police force. Men & women alike are grossly overweight and this had a direct effect on their performance. Just because you're not a cop in the field doesn't mean you can be 5 feet 9 inches and weight in excess of 200lbs! It's a liability! Many of the cops are strokes & heart attacks just waiting to happen.


Look, I'm no super model. I'll be the first to admit that. I've had jobs that required a particular level of physical ability. When my physical health began to decline I changed careers, understanding when I was no longer capable of performing to the best of my abilities. Certainly my performance does not have a huge impact on other people's lives. I'm not involved in high stress, physically demanding situations.

Think about it. How safe & secure would you feel if you found yourself in a life & death situation and the time it took to respond to your situation was in direct association to the health of the cop? Would you want a cop in his/her physical prime or an overweight cop that could barely pull himself/herself from the responding vehicle? Imagine your house gets robbed and the responding officer is out of breath just climbing the stairs of your front porch. There's that stray thought in the back of your head that you might have to save the cop & give him/her CPR.

Hate breeds Hate.....

This post originally started as an irate FB post. I removed the post and gave some thought to what had happened to me. That post became fodder for a blog entry.

I have been coming to this island for over 30 years, since I was a kid.

I've lived here, this time, for over 10 years and I'm still amazed and somewhat saddened that I'm STILL thought of as an outside, a foreigner. I'm not talking about walking down Front Street and being mistaken for a tourist. I'm talking about my day to day life. I can frequent a shop weekly for years and still be seen as an outsider. I can offer conversation about the government, local happenings, etc, and still not be consider a 'local' by the locals. 



I recently went to a fast food restaurant to have lunch and enjoy the airco and WiFi. It's something I do an a nearly weekly basis. My guilty pleasure. It was a scorching hot day and I needed to seek refuge from the heat. Once I stepped inside I let out a long sigh of relief as the cold air hit me. Bliss. I greeted the staff with the usual broad grin and 'Good Afternoon' that was happily returned, ordered my meal and found a comfortable spot away form the general hustle and bustle of the restaurant. I happily began enjoying my lunch and unpacked my laptop.

After about 10 minutes I was aware that the crowd noise seemed to be louder than usual in the restaurant. I looked up from my laptop to glance around. There was a woman with her gaggle of children sitting 2 tables away from me. There were a least 6 kids. I'm not sure if they were all hers, but that was the impression I got. The kids ranged in age from about 5 to 12. The younger ones were in the play area set up for kids, having a grand old time. In fact, some of their antics were making me chuckle. Seems a pecking order had been established by a young girl of about 3. She was bossy and didn't take NO for an answer. Her braids, with pink beads at the ends, bounced furiously as she barked out orders. The older kids obeyed her without questions. Was cute to see her directing them. On occasion the kids would trickle out to grab a sip of soda or a bite to eat before being herded back to the play area by the little general to continue having fun. I turned back to my lunch and laptop.

Less than 5 minutes passed before an ear splitting shriek sounded out across the restaurant. Seems the 2 oldest kids were in a squabble. A girl of about 12, who was dressed like something out of the local brothels had decided to tease her younger brother, of about 9, by taking his food. It was the boy who had let out the glass shattering scream as he began chasing his sister around the restaurant like a rampaging rhino, pushing chairs & bumping into tables. The ruckus rolled to a stop at the booth directly behind me, but the sound level did not stop, it intensified. I drew in an annoyed breath and muttered, For God sake, SHUT UP, under my breath. With a shake of my head I focused back on my laptop.

From the booth behind me I heard a loud teeth suck and the girl stated rather loudly: White people just have no manners and are rude. My spine stiffened at the insolent comment and my jaw clenched. I promptly twisted around in my chair to pin the 'child' with a glare and said forcefully. "You're running around in a restaurant screaming and carrying on like a 2 year old & you say I'm being rude. So sorry. Will you PLEASE shut the hell up." As I turned back around this little chit states in a loud voice that just because I'm white I think i can be rude. This mule of a girl then gets up, comes to stand next to my table and proceeds to start a rant about how white people come down on black people and that white people think they are all better than blacks & white people think they're so smart...All this because of being told to shut up...She is  making an effort to wind herself up and she's looking around to see who is paying attention to her asinine rant. Only her mother was looking on but silent. When the girl stopped to draw a breath I simply shrugged and stated: Manners, Race & Stupidity are 3 different issues. Race has nothing to do with the fact that you're just simply rude and displaying your stupidity. My comment received a few quick smiles from nearby tables of locals and visitors alike. It also brought the girl up short, mouth open like a fish gasping for air. She snapped her mouth shut. It was at this point that her mother got up, gathered the rest of her brood and shuffled them out of the restaurant. From what I gathered from the staff after the group left, they had apparently been sitting in the restaurant for quite some time, making a nuisance of themselves, talking rudely to the staff and making comments about the manager and other diners, etc.

It's not so much the lack of manners that is shocking, but the ignorance that accompanied it. For a young person to blurt out racial comments and imply oppression without any true understanding is shameful. The words this girl was spewing was obviously ideas she was parroting from her mother/guardian. I find these ideas to be a common sentiment among the locals. They constantly refer to their history of slavery and seem to fall upon that or use it as a crutch whenever something doesn't go their way. A decision doesn't go in their favor and many are quick to claim 'repression' or race. I just want to point out that, realistically, we're ALL foreigners here. No matter if you're 'born here' or not. The ancestors of all the 'locals' were brought over in the slave trade. Sad, but indeed a fact. Unless your family tree can be traced back to Arawak or Caribe Indians, you're a foreigner, too. Parents don't seem to realize this as they nurture their own hate through their children. Parents are the 1st/last/ONLY line of defense for their child/children. When young, children parrot their parents, it's a natural learning process. So when you think your child is too young, or doesn't understand, you may be right, but that won't stop them from spewing the same things you say. So if you talk about racism or hate, you're giving those sentiments to your offspring to mimic. By the time they are old enough to even understand what they;re saying, the seed of hate has been planted. As a parent you must be the one to decide whether or not to let that seed grow.

Hate breeds hate.

Heineken Regatta non-sense.

Well, It's that time again. The last big event of High Season.

Regatta. The time of year when throngs of ppl descend on the island and party like rock stars and leave a trail of disaster in their wake and a bad taste in the mouth for some. Most ppl who live here see it as another reason to party...which is just fine. There are others that see it as a way to make more money - the final push before season's end. And there are also some who avoid it like a plague. I'm in the 'plague' group.

In the past 10 years I've attended my fair share of Regattas. I love watching the boats - the actual racing..the REASON for the Regatta. The mad dash to the start line as one class breaks from the mob on the water, the colorful spinnakers. The ocean shinning like diamonds tossed across an indigo cloth. The trade winds pushing the boats along, testing their mettle and that of the crew. It's a hell of a thing and a beautiful thing. I had the distinct pleasure of being on a boat near the starting line the year Steve Fosset graced our waters with PlayStation, and shattered the Island Record. I meet him hours later at a press conference and was gobsmacked. He was a brilliant man. I've even participated in the Sunday Night Debauchery, shared the misery of the island wide hangover on Monday. Yes, yes, I've done it. Then I stopped doing it.

The main reason is the ppl who come here and act like imbeciles. Hey, I'm all for visitors coming here, helping the economy and having a good time, getting u'r drunk on and all, but when there are no signs of inhibitions left and the fun turns to stupidness, then it's just annoying. I'm always amazed at the things ppl do here that they clearly would NOT do from where they are from. And I always find myself asking:Why? Why do ppl find that it's perfectly acceptable to come here and act like baboons. I think most of them believe: Hell, I don't know anyone here, so who cares. Well....I CARE. I care that you don't think you have to consider the ppl who live here. Yes, those of us who live here like to party, we've all had our moments of debauchery, but we're doing it AT HOME. We haven't trapized off to some random location to put our party dress on. We do it at home. This island is our home. We don't walk around in matching t-shirts to declare we belong to a particular group. We know where we belong. I understand wearing t-shirts for 'boat/crew pride' But the shirts just seem to be more of an identifying beacon for which group was more ridiculous than another. The shirts also help in identifying which boat some drunken fellow should be returned to, when he's found '3 sheets to the wind' face down on Kim Shaw beach at 3am.

And there's the aftermath of bad press. Incidences of crime spike. Everything from a simple pickpocket to assault. And all because ppl don't know where to draw the line in the glass. Ppl get annihilated thinking: one of my crew/friends will look out for me. Problem is - the EVERYONE is shitfaced. Ppl who promised to stick together get separated, having to make their on way back to their boat/hotel. Yes, visitors may get taken advantage of in their drunken states, and yes, that sucks...but those lovely crew shirts may as well have a big target or KICK ME sign painted on the back. And so the tales of: You won't believe what happened to me... begin to circulate, casting an even drearier pall over an island already struggling with an identity crisis.

So, this year, I'll be on the sidelines, watching as the boats sail past my house & I'll raise a drink with my dad in a silent toast to the boats.

Childhood, faraway friends and the Bionic Man

Big house party just down the road. I can hear the reggae band pounding away...but I'm far enough down the road that it just drifts to me on the breeze, every now and then. It's an early Saturday night. Seems there's been sad news making the rounds lately. Started with Sarah Burke, Etta James and has ended, for now, with a tragedy somewhat closer to home. Brought to mind one of my favorite poems: Death Be Not Proud, by John Donne.

My birthday came and went on Tuesday. Was a great day. A quiet day spent with my dad and a seemingly endless stream of well wishes from good friends and family - world-wide. Went to lunch at Tequilas and then  tapped into our buried childhoods. Went to the Carousel for ice cream. Was wonderful. The lights, the music. I have to take my hat off to the eccentric millionaire for building that place so that people like me and my dad could  relive a childhood memory. Blew my mind in it's beauty. My dad was awe-struck by the whole thing - the ice cream, the setting, the beautiful carousel. Was something truly wonderful to see as his eyes grew cloudy with a far away childhood memory. Close your eyes and you're young again, and the world seems fresh...you feel invincible. To feel like that, for even a few brief moments, is an irreplaceable moment.

Been thinking of distant friends, both physically distant, and distant in other ways. Friends and family scattered around the world.I hope they all take a moment to glimpse back into childhood with a smile, a helpless chuckle at some long forgotten memory of times that were gilded with gold.

As the distance sound of reggae drifts through the house, I settle in for an early night. The breeze is tickling the trees outside, causing the leaves to dance in time to the reggae below. A few clouds scuttle across a mostly clear sky as the stars wink down. Will indulge my new kick for an old favorite: Lee Majors...LOL Do NOT ask. Something about an unresolved childhood crush. Still ongoing, apparently as I watch Big Valley nearly every night at midnight for my dose of Lee Majors in a cowboy persona. hahahaha So, I downloaded the Six Million Dollar Man TV series. Another fleeting glimpse of a childhood past. I was 4 when the series came out - 1974 - and I still remember sitting in front of the giant TV, on the floor that was covered with green shag carpeting. The sounds of my mother in the kitchen as the scent of a home-made marinara sauce drifted through the house. I would sit impatiently through the commercials and then sit as quiet as a mouse, mesmerized by the full color images of the bionic man on the screen. Geez...how can anything ever live up to the standards of a young girl's crush on a bionic man? :-D

Is There A Line....?

Is there a line? What line is there...? Should this line be crossed...?

What am I talking about? Well....it's a funny thing. Is there a line in regards to friendships/relationships and a certain level of acceptance when it comes to beliefs and opinions? Bear with me here as I work out the process as I type, as it is a seemingly convoluted idea I'm trying to make concrete. And I give fair warning: The example I'm using is fictitious. If you choose to be offended - you simply choose to take it personally when it's not. Or if you think I'm talking about you or someone you know in particular, that would be an assumption on your part. Having said that - this is something I think we've all dealt with at one point or another.

OK....The example:
A group of friends. In this group is one person who has a firm view on, say, eating vegan.This person - let's call him Zak - dedicates his whole life to eating vegan and having a healthy lifestyle. Others in this group of friends understand his views and lifestyle but don't choose to follow the same path. Every chance Zak gets, he tries to impress the importance of being vegan to his friends. When his friends want to eat fast food, he's quick to point out how unhealthy fast food it. Or if his friends talk about a nice meal they cooked, he quickly dissects the ingredients pointing out what vegan products could have been substituted. Zak's friends understand where he is coming from, however the way that Zak presents his information tends to come off as aggressive, reproachful, perhaps even righteous. The: 'You need to listen to me because I'm RIGHT' scenario. It reaches a point where Zak's friends begin to feel resentful towards Zak or uncomfortable around him. Zak's friends, and people in general, feel like that have to be careful what they say around him - walking on eggshells, ever mindful not to stray onto a topic that will incite an unwanted 'sermon' of the art of being vegan by Zak. His friends, somewhat reluctantly, begin excluding him from activities that may bring forth unsolicited opinions from Zak.

I guess my questions are: If someone is your friend, you should respect their opinions/views, even if they don't match yours, right? And you should respect the fact that you and your friend may disagree on many things? That's life, right? While you can offer your view, is there some line that is crossed when it becomes a matter of:' It's my view and my view only'? How long do you tolerate some one forcing an opinion on you? Friend or not? If they don't respect your views and opinions, are they your friend? And if you truly are friends, then should there be any forcing of views on each other? Or should it be the tact of: Let's agree to disagree? But if you don't say anything - just let it slide, then is that an unspoken acceptance of it?

The main point is Zak has made a group of people feel uncomfortable, yet no one has said anything directly to Zak. They don't want offend him, hurt his feelings, etc., etc....But how can Zak understand if no one tells him? No one gives him the choice to change or even react to the situation.  Are there unspoken boundaries/lines that just don't get crossed? At what cost?

Cigarette man

Looking out an open window....

The sun was slowly reaching it's apex in the sky. The carwash was a flurry of suds, water and the sounds of vehicles being pressure washed. The blasts of water created a varying range of tones as it pounded against different car parts. Somewhere the sounds of reggae drifted out of a small radio. The scent of window cleaner and wet pavement were carried in slight whiffs by the breeze as the attendants scrambled like overgrown ants around the line of vehicles. The breeze was being fussy, unable to decide a direction as it idly wound around cars, people and trees, as if trying to touch everything and be every where all at once.

A man sought refuge from the glaring sunshine under the gently swaying fronds of a coconut palm, unlit cigatette dangling from his lips. His greying hair was occassionaly caressed by the fickle breeze. It tussled his hair gently, drying the beads of sweat on his broad forehead. He turned his back to the breeze, shoulders hunched as he dug a lighter from the front pocket of his shirt and lit the still dangling cigarette. He drew a long breath and slowly let the smoke escpae his parted lips. He returned the lighter to the pocket of his short sleeved sport shirt colored in a variety of mottled browns and beige tones.He absently rubbed the palm of his hands up and down the thighs of his worn , sun bleached jeans as he gazed, unseeingly, at some distant point.

The swaying palm fronds cast mottled clusters of light along his mahogany coloured skin, dancing across his features, brow heavily creased with time, sunken cheeks and a slightly bulbous nose. His lips were thin and his chin and jaw line firm. The dappled sunshine cast a glint in eyes deeply set under bottle brush eyebrows the color of pewter. His gaze focused and surveyed his surroundings. He drew another long pull from the cigarette before tossing it to the ground and crushing it under the toe of his worn tennis shoe. He slowly ambled back to where a line of cars waited to be washed.

It's the New Year - Now what?

St Barth's 2O11 New Years - Photo courtesy of: http://www.prweb.com

Well....whadyaknow...it's 2O12.....and now what? Now come the resolutions.....

Everyone is reviewing their lists of resolutions - resigning themselves to give something up for the greater good...albeit reluctantly.

As I do ever holiday season- I question the renewed desire for change around the holidays only. Once again we need a special day to give us reason to change or be thankful or reach out and contact people that have drifted from our lives. It's a funny human trait. A 'human condition' per say. I'm not saying it's a trait that needs to be changed - I'm just pointing out that it may be slightly flawed. This time of year is often punctuated with sentiments such as: 'Remember the time...?' ; 'I should have...' ; 'Maybe next year...'; etc., etc.....

Everyday should be reason enough to take on a new hobby, learn a new trick or two, pick up a book that u've been wanting to read....It's easy enough to preach but not so easy to practice. :-D Hey - I'm JUST as guilty as anyone else. I'm not saying to toss aside any and all attempts at change - I may just be suggesting make plans with a grain of salt in the back of your mind and a readily available dose of humor to accompany any hardship encountered.

I managed to stop smoking - 2 months and counting - yet I didn't wait for the holidays to do it. lol Still - we'll see how long it lasts. It's not a resignation to failure - but perhaps just a small does of rational or reality. So many resolutions are doomed! Yet still, we plod onwards - ever hopeful for success...yet another human trait - DEFINITELY flawed, but also admirable. Many would argue the age old adage - The definition of insanity is is repeating the same action over and over again expecting a different result. Yet - we're ever game to try and try again, ever hopeful for a different result. So, this year I raise a toast to the Human Condition and 2O12.


Resolutions are popular because everyone feels they could use a little improvement.
Marilu Henner

Dieting on New Year's Day isn't a good idea as you can't eat rationally but really need to be free to consume whatever is necessary, moment by moment, in order to ease your hangover. I think it would be much more sensible if resolutions began generally on January the second.
Helen Fielding