Tag Archives: jamaica

Jamaica Motorbike Escape: Rolling Elsewhere

Making a rapid exit from a fcked situation in Little Bay to Negril, Westmoreland Parish, Jamaica (excerpts) on the back of a motorbike (classic Jamco), sometimes with one other passenger besides ace driver, saying hello to village folks along they way.

Music from:  Festival Songs Through the Years, vol. 1, incl.

* Ras Karbi, I’ll Never Leave You Again
* Toots and the Maytalls, Bam Bam
* The Astronauts, Meck Wi Jam
* Stanley and the Turbine, Dem Haffi Squirm 

Shot in 2014

Mementos: The Wailers at Komasket / “Family Man” Barrett and Koolant Brown

Dave backstage with Aston “Family Man “Barrett – musical director, founding member etc of The Wailers at Komasket Music Fest. Photo by R. Scales
Dave interviews Koolant Brown (then of) The Wailers at Komasket Music Fest. Photo by R. Scales

More: Interview with The Wailers and others at Komasket Music Fest, near Vernon, BC,  Aug. 2010.

Momentos: Barbers, various (vol. 2, international)

a pre-haircut pose in a Jamaican shop – Jamaica might have the best all-around barbers of any country. PS photo taken with analog Lomo sardine can camera

While i started enjoying haircuts when i found a barber shop which also offered libations, good tunes, pinball and the like, since “the illness” I made a list of things I can do which involves sitting down, but gets me out of the house, and leaves me with a feeling of satisfaction. These include: making scrapbooks, seeing matinée movies, sitting in parks under a tree, getting my beard professionally trimmed (rather than chopping at it myself) plus trim up the haircut,… as well as pedicures documented elsewhere.

While rambling, i like to seek out the hole-in-the-wall, no fuss, traditional barbers and enjoy a leisurely visit. Its hit or miss sometimes but ya know, hair grows back right?

Sometimes, not always, i grab a snap with the barber or the shop or me before and after… sometimes i don’t so you won’t see those. Oh sometimes i recall names and/or locations, this is not meant to be comprehensive, just amusing and vaguely documentary.

This assortment features barbers in international locations (meaning not Canada and USA), moreorless (pending).

Another action shot at another barber in Jamaica
getting a “gentleman’s mullet” tuned up in La Paz, Mexico
a fun experience in Phitsanulok Thailand in a wildly “decorated” barber shop which included straight-razor trim

Continue reading Momentos: Barbers, various (vol. 2, international)

Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On! #123

Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On #123
Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On #123

High in Jamaica, Uncle Weed visits Black Ras’ abundant mountain growfield to discuss “swamp weed” grown in morass versus “hard land weed” grown in volcanic soil with bat guano, plus varieties of ganja strains – both domestic and imported. Plus background about his family teaching him the ways of growing most anything and living an Ital lifestyle.

Head to the hills for: Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On with Uncle Weed #123  (.mp3, stereo, 30MB, 14:44) Continue reading Humble Boys Hard Land Weed – Choogle On! #123

Field Notes from Elsewhere – Choogle On! #121

Field Notes from Elsewhere – Choogle On! #121
Field Notes from Elsewhere – Choogle On! #121

Embarking on meandering natural healing journey around Asia, Indian sub-continent, Arabia, Mediterranean, across Canada, US rocky mountain canyons, and to Grateful Dead anniversary shows while emerging from a fog after chronic and complex illness diagnosis resulting in lost years due to prescription meds. 

Hit the golden road for: Field Notes from Elsewhere – Choogle On! #121 (160k .mp3, 105MB, 1:03:20)

Continue reading Field Notes from Elsewhere – Choogle On! #121

Portrait: Jamaican Yardie

Jamaican Yardie: daveo disguised
Jamaican Yardie
Blending in like a local in Jamaica hair tucked up in knit tam, obligatory futbol shirt (Juventus, Italy) and absolutely required shades.
 
It must’ve worked as I appeared in a slightly different incarnation of this outfit in the lead story on the Jamaican national news on the day Westmoreland Parish legalized cannabis.
 
Little Bay, circa 2013/4?

Jamaican Ganja Field

High up a mountaintop of ancient uplifted coral, unaccompanied by bodyguards, escalades or a single Marley (unlike “reincarnated” snoop), I found a happy place– surrounded by thousands of little ladies. I squeezed the buds to savour the moment and smells of mangos and papayas, limes and skunks. 

Note audio recorder in hand. My wanders are different now. I still wonder. Snapped with a single-use disposable camera

 

 

Sunset, Little Bay (Jamaica) / acrylic

paint-elsewhere-Sunset, Little Bay (Jamaica) acrylic
Sunset, Little Bay (Jamaica) / acrylic

Sunset (Little Bay, Jamaica)
oil paint on stretched canvas

Humble Boys Club of Westmoreland – spoken song

From a cabin in Jamaica comes a spoken word song made from loops, samples and layers of spoken and sorta-sung vocals inventing stories about a workers’ boarding hall which burned down years back and the foundations sits, still.

Humble Boys Club

Years ago, the Humble Boys Club was a stalwart on this lost coast, now just the foundation remains.

NOTE: Hear Humble Boys Club as a spoken song

Humble Boys Club

Tucked in a south Westmoreland
Parish corner
a coastline bay
left to sequels of buccaneers
and earth core miners

The hard men & the Maroons
sequestered in the mountains
look long back behind, below
to forgotten sugar cane and ash

Rivers run past the opening
to the very middle of the soul
the water springs to pull you deeper
into the limestone and the very molten core

We are only Humble Boys
No poncies in our club
Overproof rum, bunks and porridge
at the end of the log flume runs

They left the coral
jagged rock to the hard men
and his schemes
the wise ones went foreign
made money and split

While the rest cemented in
tied a cabin to the very firma
which tears your feet and soul

Re-barred lashings to anchor
from impending storms
Buaxite, guano, timber cane.
And Human power.

You are a just a humble boy
toiled the sound, club burns down
Broken rubble is not your pillow
and the dust never blows away

We are just humble boys
toil the sandiness, bunkered
down huddled in, porridge with the other men
They’ll disappear into the green
disappear from everything
but remnants of life.