DOES IT MATTER to us whether our country passes the IMF test or what? Does it hold the slightest interest for us? There was a time when the very letters – IMF – struck terror in our hearts. Times have changed, drastically. The Fund and us have a new modern relationship. So what if there are differences? We can work it out. No need for a divorce. Let’s go to counselling… right?

I have been intrigued by the findings in the RJR-Boxhill poll taken between October 28 and November 3, which sought opinions on whether the country passed or failed the most recent IMF test. The majority of the people who responded, 41 per cent were sure that the country had failed the test. The “Not sures” amounted to 27.7 per cent, while 20.1 per cent were convinced that we passed. “No response” accounted for 11.3 per cent.

It seems that we know a little bit of everything but not much of anything about what is really going on in the management of our nation’s affairs. A comprehensive explanation of how the Fund works was given in a recent media interview (RJR radio and TVJ) by the official who has Jamaica in his portfolio. It would be interesting to know how many of us paid attention to what was said.

Even with that, shouldn’t we (the taxpayers) want to know our current status with the Fund? Will we have to live through those ugly layoffs and belt-tightening which characterised the Fund in the “bad old days” when people went around painting the letters IMF on walls, complete with the translation “Is Manley Fault?” Today, we don’t see much if any political graffiti. When we do, it is more likely to be the fixation of a wanna-be deejay political aspirant.

I haven’t seen any explanation as to how the 41 per cent who believe we have failed the IMF exam, came to that conclusion. It could be that they are the only ones listening or reading the fine print. As to the 20.1 per cent who are sure that we passed, did they rely on wishful thinking and a deep desire for things to go right for the nation?

As for the “No answers”, we know who they are. They gave up long ago trying to make sense of the whole damn thing. The 27.7 per cent “Not Sures” no doubt are hoping against hope that “every little thing is gonna be all right”. Will it, or won’t it? How do we know what is true and what is not? Which hand do we rely on for verification – the left or the right? Does anybody in authority care if we know?

THIS IS THE AGE of Public Relations, the art of helping us to believe what we’re not sure we believe. Somewhere out there, a savvy communications student will one day get the Eureka moment and decide to do a definitive study on the effect of PR in creating a new Jamaican political culture.

This is also the Age of Hype. Spinmeisters abound, trained to take us for a joy ride. Apart from the wrestling matches in Gordon House, where do we look to get real answers to real questions? We are press-released into knowing what we’re supposed to know, and that means belief that our favourite minister is doing the very best for us. So myths are born…

We’re led to believe that all we need to do is sit back, relax and enjoy… So, what if we canna cross di road, because the road ain’t there no more? Relax, chill. There’s a highway in the offing for every town and village – soon come. We just have to cut the ribbon right now, declaring the road open. Stop quibbling about it not being built yet. People must have something to look forward to, after all.

THEN, THERE’S THE MATTER of style. It is not an easy road, you better believe it. Do you know how hard it is for your favourite politician to cut a good dash when the TV lights come on? In case you haven’t noticed, sartorial elegance is now a highly necessary component for success. Away with those outdated concepts like “empty bag cyaan stand up”. So long as the trimmings are in place, “nothing” can always be shaped into “something”, even if we have to play dress-up to prove it.

Do not ignore the role of the stylist for the men. It’s time for unruly eyebrows to be tamed, plucked, waxed, shaped. They call it man-scaping – taming the savage beast through expertise not unlike the ministrations of an experienced landscaper faced with an unruly hedge. This is mani and pedi time. Expensive shoes require expensive toenails. No more dirt-rimmed fingernails, once the signs of honest toil. (Gway wid dat!) And then, there is the facial. No more razor bumps. Skin is in (not to be confused with “thin skin”). Don’t be afraid of spray-on tan, even if you could appear on camera looking like an over-ripe tangerine. I actually saw one “tanned” member of the leadership corps the other day, blissfully unaware that his strange pallor was showing when the camera lights went on. Ignorance is bliss.

AS WE AWAIT WORD of when the combatants will get the go-ahead to meet in the centre of the ring, a word to the wise to all contenders – the male variety. If you’re hoping to be among the chosen ones destined for greatness, be prepared to pay more attention to your wardrobe. Repeat after me… suits are compulsory, complete with coloured shirts and dazzling ties. Every day is dress-up day now. Remember that!

The ultimate, of course, is to aspire to look like Obama, even to the backed-off jacket and the sleeves of the snowy white shirt (expensive cotton, of course), rolled up to demonstrate willingness to get down to the nitty-gritty, down and dirty for the people’s sake (or so it is said). No harm in giving it a good try.

As to the young ones, they are indicating that they are eagerly awaiting the signal to go out and get the youth revolution started. Besides pledging the usual loyalty to the party and such stuff – I wonder – is anyone interested in what a real MP should actually know about the country which is to be saved from itself? Are the young megastars prepared to be educated to the realities of life in the real world where people still go to bed hungry and know none of the joys extolled in the press releases?

No offence – but remember – a bit of ancestral wisdom goes a long way. Never mind that you won’t find it in Kindle. Repeat after me… “When hog pickney ask him Mumma why her mout so long, she say, ‘You a grow, you will find out’.” Enjoy it while you can, children.

gloudonb@yahoo.com