By Tony Deyal
“I heard a rumour about our prime minister. I’m not sure if it’s Trudeau. Wait. There are some rumours that are Justin.” This is the kind of joke I hear from members of my Canadian fan club. Here’s another: “How do we know that the Pope isn’t being paid to come to Canada? Because, then it would be a PayPal visit.” This week a Trini member of the bunch sent me a very timely one. “What is the difference between your prime minister and the head of the Roman Catholic Church?”
“Only God knows,” I replied. He laughed and then said: “The main distinction between them is the Pope only expects you to kiss his ring.”
These days have been tough for the prime minister (PM) of Trinidad and Tobago (TNT). One of the Newspapers ran the headline: “PM breaches code of ethics again” and explained: “The Council for Responsible Political Behaviour has found that the People’s National Movement (PNM) has breached the Code of Ethical Political Conduct on two more occasions.” Dr Rowley was found guilty of “unsubstantiated allegations” and it was “unacceptable.”
The newspaper had previously reported that the PM was found “using language that was insensitive and inappropriate during a campaign meeting.”
Then in a tongue-in-cheek article, one of my colleagues, communication strategist Denise Demming, went to town on the PM’s choice of Darryl Smith, a former government minister.
Smith was initially thought guilty of sexual harassment, then fired for interfering improperly in the public service, and now, as Ms Demming puts it, Smith is the recipient of a “high-class ‘wuk’ to “develop overseas markets and boost exports to key strategic partners.”
Aiming at Smith, Ms Demming suggested: “During the background check, I suspect that your current boss, trade minister Paula Gopee-Scoon, asked your former boss, prime minister Dr Keith Rowley, if he would recommend you for the position. And your former boss, who had also appointed you chairman of the Diego Martin Regional Corporation, answered politely to endorse your capabilities.”
Suddenly the whole country had become like the Smithsonian and talking total Smith. Smith’s talk is back in town with a penchant. It reminds me of my younger days when we played the tongue-twister games like, “Robinson Crusoe shaved his beard with a rusty, rusty razor blade” – “She sells sea shells by the sea shore” and, the one which got our “tangues totally tongled up”, our all-time favourite, “Mr Smith ship sink.” This last hurrah seems to be “Mr Smith Ship Skip.”
I wondered whether there is any other “Smith” whose “ship” might not be properly pronounced but still accurate. My first thought was of Jack Smith, the experienced war-crimes prosecutor who Donald Trump claims is “deranged”, “atrocious” and “a raging and uncontrolled Trump hater, as is his wife who also happened to be the producer of that Michelle Obama puff piece.” However, Mr Smith’s ship is holding tight. He made it clear, “We have one set of laws in this country and they apply to everyone.” I really wish that TNT and the rest of the Caribbean were like this Mr Smith.
Not all Smiths are the same. There is Samuel Smit, the “horologist”. If I claim to be one, Trinis would inevitably ask, “Where you study? In the University of Charlotte Street?” Guyanese will think “Tiger Bay”. Jamaicans will talk about Hip Street on Montego Bay, and Barbadians will ask, “You from Nelson Street or The Garrison?”
Fortunately for me, horology is “the study of time or the measurement of time” and everyone knows I always take my time.
One “Smith” who ranks with Darryl is Patricia Smith of the Boston Globe. She was a finalist for the US Pulitzer Prize. This is considered the highest national honour in journalism. She had “made up” four different columns and had to return her “Distinguished Writers” Award.
Then there was the poet, Ant Smith, whose seminal work, “Little Dick”, detailed his physical shortcomings. He decided to hold “the first ever conference for the celebration and acceptance of small penises everywhere!” in London.
Rhythm Factory in Whitechapel was said to have been “transformed into an open, accepting, silly and fun night of comedy, cabaret and goodness knows what else in honour of ‘tiny todgers, compact cocks, wee willies, mini members, and dinky dicks’.” According to the pre-conference publicity, men and women were welcome and the door price was 50P per claimed phallic inch (for men) and 50p per preferred phallic inch (for women). According to Time Out London: “It’s true what they say, great things do come in small packages.”
One of my friends said sarcastically, “Tony, you should have gone. They would have let you in free.” Actually, as happened in a similar event in Brooklyn, USA, the winner was an outsider. The favourite, who was highly tipped to emerge victorious, came up short.
However, Ant is nowhere in the class of the greatest word Smith of all time. He was F.E. Smith, an extremely capable lawyer with a very quick wit. In one matter, the Judge rebuked F.E. for making “an improper remark” which, as Smith retorted, was, “prompted by an equally improper suggestion”.
Pretending not to pursue that one, the judge tried to quash the young lawyer by quoting philosopher and former Lord Chancellor, Francis Bacon: “Youth and discretion are ill-wedded companions.” F.E., always very quick on the draw, immediately countered, “My Lord, the same Bacon also said that a much-talking judge was like an ill-tuned cymbal.” The judge frowned. “Now you are being offensive, Mr Smith,” the Judge rebuked. Smith, not to be put down, agreed, “We both are. The difference is that I am trying to be, and you can’t help it.”
In one case where Smith was conducting a lengthy and complicated matter before a judge he regarded as slow and pedantic, he was forced by the judge to clarify the issues. Smith did so with a short but very cogent explanation of all the matters and their implications.
Despite this the judge then stated: “I’m sorry, Mr Smith, but I regret that I am none the wiser.” Smith rose wearily to his feet and responded, “Possibly, my lord, but you are better informed.” Another judge, who’d had enough of Smith, demanded respect with, “What do you suppose I am on the Bench for, Mr Smith?” F.E. replied: “It is not for me, your honour, to attempt to fathom the inscrutable workings of Providence.”
My favourite F.E. rejoinder was when in court he explained to the judge: “At the time, my client was as drunk as a judge.” The judge quickly interjected: “Mr Smith, I think you’ll find the phrase is ‘as drunk as a Lord’.” F.E. returned, “As your Lordship pleases.”
I will end all the Smith talk with a final one from F.E. who was once asked by a Judge, “Are you trying to show contempt for this court, Mr Smith?” F.E. replied: “No, My Lord, I am trying to conceal it.”
*Tony Deyal was last seen saying that while the PM seems to be smitten by Smith and not trying to conceal it, a lot of people believe that what is required is a locksmith.
