Today is the day that all people of West Indian descent, myself included, look forward to all summer. Its Jourvet Sunday & parade Monday. As long as I can remember that's always been the protocol for all us Island folk. For a lot of us New Yorkers the "West Indian Day Parade" on Eastern Parkway is the closest many of us will ever get to Carnival.
As a kid I was drawn in to going to see it because of the beautiful majestic costumes. They are truly transformative works of art. I always dreamed of being a butterfly in the parade one year. Maybe one day I will get my wish. As I got older I remained connected thru the music & food of my culture. And then one summer, when I was 15, I discovered Jouvet. The annual preparation/pre-party that happens before the parade. There's all sorts of antics. All of Flatbush becomes a street party leading up to the parade. in recent years it has become subject to the bullshit that some black people always wanna bring with them. Which over time has lead to a good time being over-regulated by law authorities.
This year for the first time, I had no actual plan on what I'd be doing for the night. I just knew that if I made it to P's house, we'd probably end up at Jouvet, but seeing as she never called, I just went to sleep.
When I woke up, I headed over to J's house to help with the laundry & have my daily dose of kiddy time. I'm glad I stayed through the night instead of wandering off with no particular destination. Because after out nightly walk & snacking ritual, his sugar sky rocketed to an amount so high the meter doesn't even bother to produce a number. It just read HI. I knew if I left, she'd freak out, call an ambulance
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