I have a New Year resolution. I have decided to make it big. This is the year. Yep, the year to make so much money I will never want for anything in my life. The next eleven months are going to be the most critical in my life. In a way, I probably left it till a bit late in the day.
For all these years, I have been idling. I have been content to live from hand to mouth. Okay, I have not been starving. I have been eating relatively well. I don’t dress in the latest designer fashions. But neither do I walk around in rags. In other words, I have been making ends meet. I don’t have any money in the bank. As soon as I get paid it’s all gone. I always hear some suits saying people should learn to save. I think they are addressing the wrong audience. You cannot save if your needs outstrip your salary.
There are lots that I spend my money on. Like I said, I have to eat. I have to wear decent clothing. I have to drink. But the thing about drink is you cannot barricade yourself inside the house and imbibe alone. It’s a communal thing. You have to drink with others.
That means both male and female. With males, things are a little better because they too can reach into their pockets. With the females it’s a different story altogether. Only one hand reaches into the pocket, and it happens to be mine. All things considered, my life is going nowhere. I cannot afford to go on holiday. Granted, I can go down to the village. But that’s not a real holiday. A real holiday is relaxing on a beach somewhere exotic with a nubile little thing, in skimpy swim wear, splashing water in your face. Now that is a holiday. That is the sort of holiday you see in glossy magazines and on television. Those smiling happy faces we admire so much have money.
They look happy because there is nothing like money. Some of them are much older than I am. But they walk hand in hand on the beach with nubile little things all because of money. Like they say, money buys everything. Money buys happiness. Money buys love. Money buys practically everything you can think of. Money buys respect. That is why chaps who are unemployed are ashamed to visit the village on holiday because everybody would laugh at them. But with money every villager regards themselves as your close relative. That is called respect. But why did I leave it till late? I blame communism. For a long time, I was enthralled by communism.
It all sounded so glorious and wonderful. I was awe struck by the idea of everyone in society being equal and living happily ever after. I was captivated by the idea of a society where no one was poor and no one was rich. It certainly would be an ideal society. I imagined a society where, if you didn’t have a girl friend, the state would help you get laid. I mean who wouldn’t want to live in such a society? I dreamt of visiting the Soviet Union, resplendent in my heavy overcoat and woollen hat standing in Red Square with a local girl, courtesy of our fellow comrades. I looked forward to altering my last name to end with a ‘vosky’. I couldn’t understand why my parents had not given me a revolutionary first name such as Vladimir or Konstantin. I told myself I would name my children Fidel and Nikita. I would make sure they all worshipped Comrade Stalin. Heck, I would even move to Moscow and ask the party to let me guard the mausoleum of Comrade Lenin. In a way, I still think communism is a great idea.
Unfortunately, it is not practical. I became suspicious of communism as I became more mature. For starters, I never liked the idea of people assuming power through mysterious means.
I mean all the chaps with the fancy names that I admired never seemed to have gone through an election. Yet they held huge May Day parades where the crowds would cheer them. I quietly wondered who had elected the comrades into office. Surely, if they were so popular they would have no problem subjecting themselves to an election. I also got to learn that people in communist countries were not allowed to travel without permission. Really? I thought that was unfair. How could people not be allowed to travel wherever they wished?
As the years went by, the idea of communism became less alluring. That’s when I realised I was poor. Whilst waiting to visit Moscow, I had to live. Chaps around me were making money and seemed to be very happy. They didn’t need to visit Red Square to get a white girl. They simply got a government scholarship and in no time would be back with one. My love relationship with communism also suffered because under the system, I learnt, individual freedoms were severely restricted. I didn’t like that. I like my freedom. Comrade Lenin or not, I hold my freedom dear. I have now stopped day dreaming about communism. I must get rich. That is my New Year resolution. I am determined to make up for lost time. And as soon as I have it made I will take a plane down to some exotic island. In tow will be a nubile young woman. Every morning we would take a walk on the beach, and drawing on my cigar I would tell her fairy tales about communism. I would tell how we nearly didn’t enjoy this holiday had I stuck to communism. But communism can still redeem itself.
All it has to do is allow people freedom to think and do as they wish. It must allow leaders to be elected. It must allow people to make money. With money people can then be able to travel the world and lounge on sandy white beaches with nubile young things in skimpy swim wear. If communism doesn’t allow all these, then it’s doomed.
Communism is dead everywhere, except in Cuba. But when Fidel goes, it will be all over. For me the choice is clear. If I have to choose between communism and life on the beach with young lass, communism doesn’t stand a chance. I have made my choice. This year I will be working hard to make money. And monitoring the health of Fidel. The moment they start playing martial music on Cuba television I will pack my holiday bags. I look forward to strolling on the beach in Cuba with a nubile young lady in her skimpy swim suit!
