At the age of 71, Coco Chanel, French fashion designer and astute entrepreneur, had already created Chanel No. 5, the scent of the 1920s, and introduced the Chanel suit which is described as “a perfect mélange of femininity, polish and timelessness.”
At the same age, which ended on Wednesday August 10, 2017, I was engaged in my fifth lawsuit, a necessity imposed upon me by people who believed that when trampled upon and “unfaired” as my Barbadian friends say, I would lie down and play dead or, as the poet Longfellow wrote in the final lines of his immortal The Day Is Done, fold my tent “like the Arabs and silently steal away”. Not me José. My day is not done yet and until it is, my tent remains wherever I have pitched it. I believe that every day after I passed my biblical “three score and ten” (70) is a blessing and I should make the most of it. Possibly this is why it is called the “present”.
Like Coco Chanel's suits which “with expert craftsmanship and classic tailoring” stand the test of time, I entered year number 72 with a slightly different design, the combination of God, genes and environment. I look forward to and enjoy each day as if it is my last. I was warned by one friend, “Boy, at your age you shouldn't buy green fig (bananas)” and I replied, “You think I stupid. Every morning I lie down in bed, the children bring the newspapers and I open the obituary page. If my name is not in it, is only then I get up.”