AFORE YE GO
Leaves from the commonplace book of Wallace Arnold
IT WAS while Alfie 'Duke' Sherman, as he then was, was playing back-up trom- bone for the late, great Satchmo that he first grew to know and love the black man. And it is because of this deep and abiding love that he is still able to discriminate against him. To this very day, when 'Sir Alfred', as he likes his closest friends to call him, jives down All Saints Road, black men of every shade and hue leap from the shadows to shake him by the hand. 'The dude's got rhythm,' one of their fraternity explained to me a while ago. 'An' what's mo', he got soul.'
Among the Rastafarian community, he is treated with a respect bordering on reverence. To them, he is Haile Ras Sherman, a minor deity, upon whose head flowers must be placed at all times. It is even said that Mr Bob Marley had Sher- man in mind when he penned his immortal verse, 'Let's get together, and it'll be all right.' As the Notting Hill Carnival approaches, the time is fitting to pay tribute to this essentially lovable figure.
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