Morning Calypso

There is low, grey, cloud cover over Vancouver, this morning in July. Sparrow sings a calypso on the speaker above my head,
in the morning coffee place. As a teenager in Georgetown, Guyana, I did my share of "jumping up", to calypsonian and band
rollicking their way through some sassy song. No question, calypsos were part of my roots music. These songs were usually topical... often humourous and bawdy... and no doubt... still are. Above all..their "take no prisoners" beat...propelled me and my mates...to jump to our feet and move. Despite my enthusiasm for this music...back then...and the occasional
calypso-like song I have written...I always knew..."man doesn't live on calypso alone". It was the languorous and poignant Latin American songs...with their sinuous rythms...I heard as a youngster...that I was and still am most deeply rooted in. For me...they penetrated to a deeper layer of our human condition...than calypsos ever could...to where loss...regret...and all of the tributaries that flow out of...the "born to dance then die" aspect of being human...were to be found. On my journey as a
song-writer and student of life...it is those layers I find myself returning to...to probe...again and again. However...for a few
moments this morning...Sparrow took me back...to a time when rythm and insouciance ruled...and took away...the thick...
grey clouds...pressing down on me...as if I have never known...what it is...to dance in the sun.................Quester.