The Wedding

TIMES INT'L

Satiricus was in a mellow mood. His wife had insisted he watch THE WEDDING with her as they had their breakfast. Satiricus didn’t mind weddings in general, and this wedding literally gave him the opportunity to see how “the other half” lived. Or at least how they became hitched up. As he sauntered over to the Back Street Bar, he was still mulling over what all of this meant when a member of the English Royal family could marry a black girl from the US.
“Well, na like she wan pore gyaal fram de g’etto, you know!!” said Bungi after Satiricus had unloaded his thoughts to the fellas.
“Budday!!! Even if she na pore, you can imagine wha’ de Queen musse t’ink?” said Cappo.
“Especially when she only became Queen because her uncle wasn’t allowed to marry a divorced white American!!” observed Hari.
“But if the Queen accepted this wedding, don’t you think this means the race thing in England and US isn’t as bad as it’s made out to be?” asked Satiricus earnestly.
“Sato, ole fr’en, na de same t’ing yuh seh when Obama get elect?” said Bungi with a smile.
“An’ look who dem elect afta Obama!!” grinned Cappo.
“C’mon fellas,” protested Satiricus. “You have to admit this is progress.”
“Or this could be the exception that proves the rule!” said Hari. “An’ the rule being people getting’ more racial, all over.”
“Me ‘gree wid you Hari,” said Bungi. “Afta all de skin teeth’ today, yuh guh hear wha’ dem guh she ‘bout abee.”
“And what you think they will say?” asked Satiricus, as he lent over the table.
“De gyaal na do dis an’ she na do da!” said Bungi firmly. “She guh gat fuh prove she-self ev’ry day.”
“Yep! She’ll never be good enough for them,” said Hari sadly. “And she looks like she’s such a nice girl.”
“Leh me tell ayuh somet’ing, me Dady teach me,” said Cappo. “Fish and cast-net nah friend.”

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