It comes to something when you try and escape the winter’s never-ending round of extreme weather, only to be thwarted by a fresh bout of…extreme weather. That was the situation last week in New York, when the Colmans attempted to fly to Bermuda to attend the annual “Love Festival”. This charming little island is only an hour and 45 minutes away, a remarkably short distance considering the diametric climate. So, inspired by the fact that this is less than some peoples’ daily commute, we booked our tickets and set off for Newark Liberty International. There was no shortage of snow and ice en route, thanks to the city experiencing its fair share of the stuff over the past few weeks. Fortunately the roads had been cleared and even the Holland tunnel was running smooth and light.
The security lines at the airport were just as long as ever, but once through we settled down into the departure lounge with the ambience bordering on tickety-boo. It looked as if we were going to be on schedule. But then with just five minutes to boarding time, came the announcement that the flight had been cancelled due to hurricane force winds at Hamilton Airport. Tee-ed off? Yes, we were. Happy, not to be landing in a Force 7 gale? That goes without saying. So, back to Manhattan it was, but with the promise of an extra flight being laid on the next day. Suffice it to say, 24 hours later everything went according to plan and we actually arrived about ten minutes early.
We relished that crumb of extra time saved, as the “Love Festival” (a Valentine’s weekend as opposed to a hippy gathering) was due to kick off that evening. And what better way to get underway, than with a Gosling Rum cocktail party. Dispensed over ice and ginger ale, the locally-distilled firewater makes a wonderful concoction known as a ‘Dark and Stormy’. This is a fitting description, bearing in mind the previous day’s atmospheric craziness. The word is that Mr Gosling’s brew is about to be marketed in the U.K. But beware, because one shot of the stuff will have you getting up and singing with the band. Fortunately such a nightmarish scenario didn’t occur that night, as Wycliffe Gordon’s supercool musicians (the four-piece who were enlivening the proceedings), featured their leader’s talented girlfriend. And boy, could she wail.
The following morning, any thoughts of a clear blue sky enhancing Bermuda’s pink beaches were washed away with the latest area forecast. Plan ‘b’ had to be brought into play, and this ended up being a visit to the cinema to see – would you fathom it – “Valentine’s Day”. It didn’t take but five minutes to suss out that this elongated waste of time is a blatant cloning of “Love Actually”. If Richard Curtis, the writer and director behind the latter, is aware of the situation, then he needs to pay a visit to his legal eagle asap. For anyone contemplating stomaching the thing, there is just one box-office draw in amongst the overstuffed cast list. Julia Roberts. Apparently she appeared as a favour to director Garry Marshall who made her a star in “Pretty Woman”. For her trouble, Ms. Roberts picked up three million dollars in lieu of the six minutes she was seen on screen. That works out at $11,952 per spoken word.
On the third day, the Lord said ‘let there be light’ (winds that is) and indeed there was. The inclement conditions receded and joy abounded. With romance now in the air, the brave and the bold ventured forth in search of enchantment as well as photo opportunities. You’d think Aphrodite was at the Water Hole, because couples were seen to embrace each other underneath the celebrated Moongates. These stone-built edificies take the form of a wedding band-shaped arch, and scores of them are mounted in parks and gardens across the island. According to legend, a long and happy life in addition to a joyful and prosperous future is assured if you make a wish there with the right person. Call me sceptical, but I’m told that the experience is more beneficial than playing the lottery. As things turned out my wish did come true that evening. That’s because the seven course dinner we attended was topped-off with a performance by uptown legend, Chuck Jackson.
And bless my soul, was he good. Backed by a well-drilled combo who’d obviously done it, seen it and experienced the action, Chuck proceeded to charm the ladies and win over the guys. What a mentor this man is for up and coming r&b acts, in that he can exude style, panache and savvy in one fell swoop. Above all, his vocal chops remain in excellent shape allowing him to make the top notes like a man bounding up a flight of stairs rather taking an elevator. His coup de grâce was quite naturally ‘Any Day Now’, a song he originated as far back as 1962. The man must be some sort of prodigy, because the passing of time hasn’t taken its toll at all. At least that’s what it seemed like from where we were sitting. Oh, and by the way, Chuck and his wife also suffered the consequences of the unpredictable weather. Due to a late night round of north-westerlies, he wasn’t able to fly in until 2-45am that morning. So thank you Bermuda, and thank you Chuck Jackson. You’re a trooper.
