Gordon Robinson | It’s cuckoo!
Published:Tuesday | November 18, 2025 | 12:07 AM
I’ve heard it said (and it’s true I’m sure) that, sometimes, we mus’ tek seruss t’ing mek joke.
That must’ve been journalist Zahra Burton’s intent when, at one of Government’s post Melissa briefings, she made the following contribution:
“I had some questions but I don’t necessarily know if anybody from the environmental sector is here. It has to do with just the decaying of carcasses and speeding that up. I went on Friday and didn’t see any John Crows in the air and wondered, on a serious note, if anything could be done to get some John Crows in the area to take up some of the carcasses.”
I swear to God. NOBODY, especially not me, can make this sort of thing up. Since the journalist spoke “on a serious note” I should first tell her that any John Crows doing what she wanted them to do wouldn’t be seen in the air. John Crows have excellent senses of smell so, despite Miss Lou’s famous joke about a Bajan and a John Crow, fly low to pick up the scent of gas produced by decaying animals. Then they land and pick at (not “up”) carcasses beginning with the eyes.
Apologies for being gory but the popular journalist’s many admirers should know John Crows don’t speed up carcass decay. It’s the decay that triggers their work.
Enough serious notes! John Crow procurers, as substitute Undertakers “to take up some of the carcasses” must be careful in candidate selection as, according to popular traditional Mento:
John Crow say him naah wuk pan Sunday!
Naah wuk! Him naah wuk pan Sunday!
John Crow say him naah wuk pan Sunday!
Naah wuk! Him naah wuk pan Sunday!
T’ink a lie?
Kill yu Mawga Cow!
Mus’ haffi work on a Sunday
John Crow say him mus’ haffi work on a Sunday.
Mus’ haffi work on a Sunday.
If him don’t him a go dead fi hungry
The episode reminded me of one of Haemorrhoid’s Shaggy Dog tales told over 50 years ago (feminists, forgive him) that I’ve edited so it won’t act like propofol; updated and tweaked so readers can relate. Remember Haemorrhoid’s tales were long, winding, overly detailed and anti-climatic.
A contestant on Who Wants to be a Millionaire reached the final question. As she suspected, the million-dollar question was no pushover. It was, “Which of the following species of birds doesn’t build its own nest but lays its eggs in the nests of other birds? (A) the condor; (B) the buzzard; (C) the cuckoo; or (D) the John Crow?”
She didn’t know the answer. She had used her 50/50 and Ask the Audience Lifelines. Only her Phone-a-Friend Lifeline was left and the woman didn’t really want to use it mainly because the only friend she knew would be home happened to be a blonde.
But she had no alternative. She called her friend and gave her the question. The blonde responded unhesitatingly: “That’s easy. The answer is C the cuckoo.” The contestant had to make a quick decision. Use reverse strategy and give Regis any other answer? Yes, her friend was a blonde but had responded with such confidence, such certitude, that the contestant couldn’t help but be persuaded.
Regis: “I need an answer.”
Crossing her fingers, the contestant said, “(C) the cuckoo.”
Regis: “Is that your final answer?”
“Yes” she said, breaking into a sweat.
Regis, after his standard dramatic delay: “I regret to inform you that answer is.....absolutely correct! You’re a millionaire!”
Three days later, the contestant hosted a party for her family and friends, including the blonde who helped her.
“I don’t know how to thank you,” said the contestant. “Because of you, I’m now a millionaire. And guess what? It was your confidence that convinced me to give your answer.”
“You’re welcome!”
“By the way,” the winner couldn’t help asking “How did you happen to know the answer?”
“Oh, come on,” said the blonde. “Everybody knows cuckoos don’t build nests. They live in clocks.”
Peace and Love.
Gordon Robinson is an attorney-at-law. Send feedback to columns@gleanerjm.com