I took a maxi taxi heading for Chaguaramas. I was not going to today's Peoples National Movement (PNM) Convention. Not me!I was going to the exact spot where their founder and "Father of the Nation" was cremated. My mission was to have conversations with the man called Eric Williams... no lie.I faced the Gulf of Paria and shouted: "Eric! Eric!"The rush of the wind brought a voice: "Leave me alone!"I made it out to be Eric's voice. Again I shouted: "Eric! Eric!"Then in a dismissive tone I heard: "What's the matter?"I told Eric I had come to talk about the PNM and how the party had strayed from its moorings-the 1956 People's Charter and the 1970 perspectives for A New Society-the guiding compass of morality in public affairs and accountability. I asked him his view about the party.
"Party?" he shot back. "Right now PNM is a badly organised fete!""Fete?" I retorted."Yes! There's no discipline. It's a wash your foot and jump in and out affair," he laughed through the roar of the wind. I said: "Eric, let's be serious!""Serious," he said, "the only thing T&T is serious about is Carnival."I sensed Eric was getting annoyed. So I pelt in a bit of picong. I said: "Eric remember when you stepped on some cow dung during a campaign whirl, you said 'I've just steeped on the platform of the Democratic Labour Party (DLP)'."Eric laughed heartily. I heard him distinctly through the rush of a wind that nearly capsised me.
I steadied myself and regaled him again."Eric," I said, "is it true you asked Bhadase Sagan Maraj the time and he pulled out two guns saying the time was two .45s?"Again Eric started to laugh, Kiff! Kiff! -a bit of political snickering from this mischievous master of the repartee.Then I took Eric to task, reminding him of his statement "bacchanal cannot be the foundation of an orderly society."An eerie silence filled the air. I said: "Eric! Eric, are you there?" He said: "Yes!"I asked him what he thought about the blood-letting bacchanal between the present leader of the Opposition Keith "Hairless" Rowley and former prime minister, Patrick "James Bond" Manning and their kiss and make up sideshow. Eric said nothing.
I asked him why the General Council stood idly by like the three monkeys-seeing nothing, hearing nothing and doing nothing."I don't know," Eric said."Both men should have been expelled," I offered. They hurt the party badly with their antics which led to the May 24, 2010 election demolition.I asked him why when political leaders lose elections they blame the media and opinion polls. Ha! Ha! Ha!I asked him about "one-manism" that had invaded the party and how selected, not elected, members were sneaked through the senate backdoor to positions of prominence in the party.An eerie silence again filled the air. I said: "Eric! Eric, are you there?""Yes," he said."I blame you," I shouted.
"Forgive me," Eric said, "I had too many millstones in the party.""You mean pullstones?" I enquired."Yes," Eric said apologetically. He sounded sad to see what this once great party had become.I asked him about today's convention and what it portends."Delegates must vote following their consciences," he offered.I said: "Eric, what you're saying is that you want to see a mixed slate to avoid one-manism, like you change?"
"Yes!" he said."There must be loyalty to party, not leader!" I interjected. "Delegates must not vote because they like a leader hairstyle, a nominee moustache, motor car, style of dress, or designer dress, false teeth, side burns, tie or balisier tie pin.""But Eric," I returned, "when you was in power, not a damn dorg barked. You encouraged one-manism.""That was then, this is now," Eric trailed off. I knew he had gone back to his resting place, wherever that is.I thanked him for the conversations, turned and left. But one thing was troubling me as I left Chaguaramas, the party wanted to remake its political leader-a makeover. Did someone say Botox? You see me, I gone!