Every year during the calypso season we are faced with–among other things–concerns about the accuracy and fairness of the judges' scoring and the never-ending debate about the quality of the offerings of some of the composers.
This year was no different and the protests–by some in the audience–when Short Pants was declared the winner of the Humor- ous Category competition underscores the point. Maybe we are losing it! I wish to bring two things to your attention in the interest of the preservation of one of our cultural traditions: The first was a comment made by one of my calypsonian colleagues when he met me backstage after the winners had been declared: "Wha' you sing?" he questioned, as both confusion and incredulity painted lines of a com- plete lack of understanding of what had just happened across his face.
The second is an e-mail sent by a dear friend. Under the subject line "Congrats, but...," he wrote: Ah glad the audience near boo you when they announce you win the category. It good for you. They shoulda pelt you with toilet paper and fig skin. So long you teach, you teach from English to social studies, you come principal and retire and you never bother to teach the children about humour as style and genre, as concept and content. You never teach them bout the use of words, bout double meanings and double entendre, bout metaphor and simile, bout innuendo and subliminal ideas. You feel you is just a calypsonian, you forget that in the abundance of water the fool is thirsty. You neglect and refuse to teach the people about the use of language and the power of imagery, bout puns and symbols:
So he went on the greens every night
Sharpton was blue, the women were white
How you expect the people to catch that heights, the brilliant use of the colours–the green of the golf course where Tiger leaves opponents green with envy, the blue of black Sharpton's anger and the white, the emptiness and sterility of the women. You never teach them bout references so how they go understand the play on infidel and infidelity/ infidel tee. You have to resort to explaining what infidel is. Your fault. It too late. You never teach them to respect and honour those who went before so what they know bout the historical reference to Congo man/never eat a white meat yet:
The Congo man have nothing on he
You shoulda hear Tigress, yes Tigress not Tiger, comment after you sing, bout she eh know how the Infidel could be in Miami when Tiger, not Tigress, living in Flori-da. Duhhhhhhh. They shoulda put you last.
Some love his club how it hard and long
Some love how he tapped his balls on the ground
Why then did they then expect only good
His first name is Tiger, his surname is Wood
You lucky the people even smile much less laugh at this part. You want to beat a man who thief Relator idea about staying home for Carnival and who nearly win with the use of the overused K/C sound in kaiso smut history–"I for Karl," "Meh car car hold everybody," "Monday she gone for cane," et al.
Ent you know they would miss this...
I heard he played a round/played around at the bar (rum and phallic symbol)
But his game was well below par (golf and rum)
Now there's a golf/gulf between he and she
You never teach them bout the language of the oratorical calypso, bout the change from kalinda to single tone and double tone No wonder the children feel that "how much inches a pipe you want" is double meaning at its best. In the land of the blind...and when the blind lead the blind...
The reason Tiger went and roam
They wasn't serving no tea at his home
Man they shoulda boo yuh tail. Only one humorous calypso in the humour finals and you nearly loss. Is ah good thing dem judges was high with tea/tee else you get a hole in one. Talk nah!
Short Pants
Humorous Monarch, 2010
