Liming: More than a feeling.

When "Auntie" (aka "the lioness king") or "Uncle" (aka "judge not, lest you be judged") call me on a Thursday evening, a little before 6pm, to remind me that it is Thursday I know that I had better heed the message that I am expected somewhere shortly. "Haul you **** and come lime with we!" If I have visitors from wherever, bring them with me if they are willing: the more the merrier. Make sure I don't have other plans. If I do, at least make the effort to get the ball rolling with "we all".

Because I think I am educated and hang with similar folk, I know that they will expect some intellectual hook. So, after minutes of exhaustive research I found that the "concept of liming encompasses any leisure activity entailing the sharing of food and drink, the exchange of tall stories, jokes and anecdotes etc., provided the activity has no explicit purpose beyond itself." (See reference.) Now that last part is the nub. While the term might have its origins in Trinidad, the pass time (and don't tell me it should be pastime) is truly Caribbean.

If you are part of a liming party (and I think the two words together are not redundant) all of this may be obvious. The little group that I have become part of seems to need no provocation to meet regularly. I spend many random hours at the house that is the regular venue. The hosts spend many random hours where I live--it's their home too. We spend many random hours together finding excuses to spend more random hours together. But Thursdays are special.

I am relatively new to the group and it seems to willingly absorb new entrants who meet a certain minimum standard of humourousness. Money does not seem to be an important attribute: you don't have to pay to enter and no one has asked me for any dues...so far. Gift of the gab? Essential. Thick skin needed? You bet. Sartorial elegance a must? Each man or woman to their choice. When else can you be overdressed in shorts and a polo shirt?

What kind of people make for a good lime? Depends on the lime, I guess. This little band of "raggamuffins" has ranks filled with attorneys (yet it does not stop the spreading of what could be libelous comments if uttered in public). There are the odd fellows like myself, working at home, dealing with how to make an "honest dollar" any way I can. There are some others with training in economics and experience in banking and finance, and they are often charged with making sure there is a certain equilibrium in the presence of people. Some know how to make good bread. Some are related--at least there is one set of real sisters amongst the "sistas". Rihanna would love to be part of the lime but we already have our own "Ella, Ella", so no need to call us. If you do, you may go away with more than a little umbr[ell]age .

Much of the time is spent finding ways to imbibe (whether you mean to take in liquid, or to receive into the mind and retain).The perfect liming spot is the kitchen counter, where all the best real and intellectual nourishment is served. Whether it's samosas, or herring buljol, or salami bruschettas, or that appropriately hot pepper cheese, it all good.

You learn new jokes (sometimes about yourself) and new meanings to old phrases. Now I can never think of former President Clinton without remembering Psalm 23: "Your rod and your staff, they comfort me." Like "eats shoots and leaves" the punctuation is important (see also an unfortunate headline from a decade ago).

I learn too that your reputation is only as good as your presence to protect it. No one has much private business when amongst friends. No one has any business being private in such a group. They are people to whom I would gladly give the shirt off my back, and I may get chance to do that literally sooner than I realise, because a few people want to don my nice new African shirt.

Mi na seh no more.