Reference to the vintage song, "Full Moon and Empty Arms", came into conversation quite naturally in the course of a recent assembly of our Alberto Street boys group. Parts of our conversations always include pan. We were discussing pan "classics", such as "Woman on the Bass", when our pan historian said that he knew of a classical work that was worthy of revival, having been once done on pan.

Our pan historian went on to tell us that the pop song arose out of a composition by Rachmaninoff. Curiosity drove me to the internet to see and hear the lyrics. When I saw the hope expressed in the song for a partner to share the full moon and to fill the singer's empty arms, I thought at once that this might be a concept I could apply to misgivings about the governance style of our new Government. This new Government is basking in the light of the full moon of goodwill that we have given them. But many of us fear that it is departing from sharing that goodwill with us.

Our misgivings began when we were assailed by too many individualistic, off-the-cuff statements that touch and concern fundamental matters of policy. Last week for example, I pointed out that the death penalty for practical purposes cannot be carried out without an amendment to the Constitution because of restrictions placed on it by a number of judicial decisions, which would have to be reversed by Parliament. Despite this practical hindrance, Ministers are promising executions.

By way of another example, an issue arose about the proposed appointment of Mr Nizam Mohammed as chairman of the Police Service Commission. There is a perfectly respectable view that Mr Mohammed's ascent out of politics into the office of the Police Service Commission will not reflect well on the institutional credibility of the Commission.

Of course the Government is free to disagree, but in response to this issue, as to some others in which voices of query or dissent have been raised, high profile spokesmen of the Government have responded with an unseemly belligerence.

I certainly do not agree that in matters of previously reckless expenditure of funds the new Government cannot refer to the past. A new economic framework cannot be set without an understanding of the extent to which the country's assets have been squandered without the application of even minimum principles of good governance and accountability.

Accordingly, I do not share all of the views of independent senator, Helen Drayton. However, her appeal to the Government to remember that they promised to raise governance standards is a justifiable appeal and I was pleased that her reference to having a retreat came mere days after I had suggested this.

I was also disappointed that Senator Drayton was attacked personally and excoriated by Minister Jack Warner. It will be disappointing to many of us if Mr. Warner abandons the charm which he used so effectively on the general election platforms.

Reggie Dumas, a fellow columnist, and a doyen of diplomats, wrote recently and most gently about some of the political and behavioral patterns which are troubling us. Perhaps his column entitled, Pledges, promises and performance, might be required reading on a retreat.

So much hope is invested in the Kamla Government and in its promises, such as the one to develop our native genius. If members of the Government would attend pan concerts they would see a real world that is so much more than mere manifesto words.

I owe Mr Michael Cooper of the Laventille Steelband Festival Foundation the explanation that the May election hindered my resolve to write about the best pan concert I have ever attended.

On May 8, the Foundation put on its 8 of Hearts Steelband Concert. Everything was right about this production on the eve of Mother's Day.

There was a single red carnation handed to every woman who entered the compound. The programme comprised performances by the eight top bands of Panorama 2010, each allotted a playing time of 35 minutes. The repertoire of each band was varied.

Most impressively, I finally saw the use of an innovative stage system. There were two stages. As one band finished on the first stage, the next band began on the other stage—no lulls.

I reckoned that the cost of the simple but effective homely stage system was probably the cost of two rows of chairs in the absurdly irrelevant National Academy for the Performing Arts (NAPA), irrelevant because it was built without thought that both the national instrument and the biggest of our national festivals need a home.

I fantasised that I could dismantle NAPA and give the site to Mr Cooper and his Foundation and some others to start over with a relevant purpose and to re-open a concert space on a night of full moon and full hearts.