A L'Enfer Baby Doc

In 1971 Baby Doc Duvalier inherited his father's dictatorship over Haiti.

At twenty years old Jean-Claude was the youngest ruler in the world.

His power was enforced by the dreaded Ton-Ton Macoute. The cadres of these sunglassed henchmen tortured and killed thousands of people over the decades with the support of America, Land of the Free. Jimmy Carter tried to back away from the ruthless regime, but the Ivy League CIA's hatred of communism preserved the Duvalier's lock on the most wretched nation in the Western Hemisphere. The family controlled all aspects of life and commerce. The sale of Topsiders shoes, Rawlings baseballs, and Haitian body parts enriched the family's coffers. Baby Doc married the most beautiful woman on their side of Hispanola.

Michèle Bennett Pasquet from the mulatto elite of Haiti.

The wedding cost $2 million dollars.

The fete was paid by the people of Haiti who were earning less than $200 a year.

Revolution was impossible.

The CIA helped the Ton-Ton Macoute suppress dissent.

Hundreds of thousands fled to Brooklyn.

Pope John Paul II called for change during his visit to Haiti.

Porte Au Prince was a transport center for cocaine.

More money to fuel the repression.

Baseballs were sewn tight. More hone runs were hit in the Major Leagues. Ivy Leaguers loved Topsiders. Ronald Reagan's CIA transported arms to the contras in Central America. Mayans were massacred in Guatemala. They had nothing to do with baseball.

The people rose against the Ton-Ton Macoutes. Baby Doc attempted reform. Too little too late for a people too abused by his power.

On February 7, 1986 Baby Doc left Haiti with his wife for France. She looked so happy to go, especially to Le Sud de France.

Michelle took a lover sur le Cote d'Azur.

Her 1993 divorce beggared Baby Doc according to the Press.

They were telling lies.

His family had Swiss banks and Swiss bankers never lie and they never tell the truth. A 2004 Global Transparency Report said he had over $300 million in Geneva.

That money belonged to Haiti.

The people.

The Swiss said the money belonged to no one.

They are super thieves.

Baby Doc remainded dead.

The money is gone.

It exists as a binary-column in the database of a Swiss bank.

All that murder and mayhem for nothing.

I expect little else from the banks.

They always get what is theirs.

Ton Ton Macoute a Geneve.

Allez-allez.

ZOE TO THE BONE A Poem By Peter Nolan Smith

The later in the day
The longer the shadow
The illusion of forever
Because zombies don't have shadows
At least that's what my Zanmi friends say
And they Haitians 'zoe' to the bone.

HEADING SOUTH

Several years ago I watched Charlotte Rampling on the BBC. The actress had been a fantasy of mine after seeing THE NIGHT PORTER and the 60-year-old was promoting her new film by Laurent Cantent's HEADING SOUTH.

This movie featured a rare examination of sex, lust, and lust set in Haiti of the 1970s and Charlotte Rampling played a well-educated tourist frequenting a Caribbean resort for liaisons with young Haitian men.

Having lived in Pattaya I had grown accustomed to the sight of older men with younger women, but older western women have also taken up the trend of December-May relations as a fountain of youth, as long as you don’t look too closely at the reflection in the mirror, then you can get away with believing your lies.

While the West might frown on this difference of age between the sexes.

My sister-in-law called it obscene. My brother said it was a sin. Their daughter rightly protested their stances by saying neither of them turn their heads for someone their own age. They had once tried to fix me up with their friend. She was 40. I was 50. She was a great woman without the usual hang-ups. We had laughs but it never went anywhere. Later she met a man in her 60s and she said, “But he’s so old.”

Youth so wasted on the young, which is why someone older can offer a helping hand to a younger protege so both parties are get what they want and sometimes more, however the subject has seldom been explored from the viewpoint of a female other than a brief glimpse of tropical parity in NIGHT OF THE IGUANA when Ava Gardner vamps with her Mexican pendejos, although John Huston the director depicted her character as an aging nympho. I had thought of her as an early Mrs. Robinson and went to Puerto Vallarta to see that beach. The actual beach boys bragged about their exploits. Ava had done her research.

Sex for older women in America was mostly a memory and Ms. Rambling’s character, Ellen, stated, “If you’re over 40 and not as dumb as a fashion model, the only guys who are interested are natural born losers or husbands whose wives are cheating on them.’’

This movie sold a glimpse of paradise.

Which supposedly long longer existed in Haiti due to the country’s complete collapse. Wrong. I’ve heard of older women going there, Mozambique, Brazil, Angola, and Cuba. I have also seen these women in Bali and Lombok.

Slender men with large women.

Both happy in the trade off without asking too many question since languages get in the way of true understanding. During a long session of raki drinking I asked the Lombok boys how they could satisfy women twice or three times their size. To a man the beach boys raised their fists and pummeled the air like a jack hammer. They obviously had learned the technique from the same master.

Puritan people in the west will excoriate HEADING SOUTH as an anathema to Christian life and call the women with the Balinese beach boys names under their breath, however I think they have found the courage to achieve equality with men their own age who refuse to accept a life of utter loneliness in which no one ever touches anyone.

It’s an illusion, but better than the reality. And the motto is like Vegas 'Whatever happens here, stays here'. Older women aren’t going to get pregnant. They don’t have to fall in love. Except like the men coming to Pattaya, these women in HEADING SOUTH confuse lust for love.

It’s an easy thing to do in an age of no-love.

Ila Jaheem Ma'ik

Ila jaheem ma'ik means 'go to hell' in Arabic, which is what Arabic men might feel about the recent surge in satanizing Islam. Firstly most Arabs are not terrorists. Secondly some Arab men drink beer. Lastly the majority of American men would rather stand and fight a thousand al-Qaada warriors than spend the night with a 300-pound naked American woman.

"Run for the hills before they dose you with Viagra."

Then again some guys like fat.

When I was working at the Milk Bar in 1986, every night a taxi would pull up across the street around midnight. A couple got out of the back. The thin male weighed about 140, but his over-sized date plused over 300. I shook my head in disbelief at how much in love the small man was with her, especially since she treated him like shit. I couldn't figure it out the attraction, until my Haitian co-worker Big Joel said, "Some men like a woman with a little meat."

"A little meat. She's all veal."

"I love veal."

"That woman is mostly fat."

"It's not the meat, it's the motion. Riding a big woman like that is like riding the ocean." Big Joel was 6-5. He liked his women big. His wife was 5-2.

"More like riding a water bed." When it wasn't going up, it was going down.

"Man like you don't know a good thing, when he see one." Big Joel eyed the big woman struggling up the stairs. The thin man carried her bag.

If I didn't know better, I would have thought that my bouncer was jealous. I didn't say a word about the woman again, but always said 'hello' to her. She never said 'hello' back.

Another useful Arabic expression is 'kharrah ibina' or WTF.