"Now or later we gon' have 'ta stand up an' fight--
we pay the taxes in this b__ch, n__ga use ya' right!"
-Pastor Troy, "Oh Father" (Album: Face Off--2001)
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So, since the last time I posted...
-O.J. got Mack-trucked,
-handguns in homes became constitutional (and most of DC cried),
-the 40th anniversary of the "Black Power Fist" came and went,
-gas prices climbed Mt. Everest and then descended back into Death Valley,
-hurricanes tore up the Gulf and Caribbean--again,
-the economy started tanking,
-we elected the first non-white president (WOOOO!!! PARTIEEEEEEE!!!)
-the economy kept tanking, even worse than before, and...
-Detroit natives and residents somehow gained ANOTHER reason to be utterly miserable.
Who knew, right? Anywayz, I'm back with a promise to keep this thing more up to date with all of the racial quirks I come across in this fantastic mess called American livin'--and I'm gunna re-up today with one of my comical favorites that goes back for as long as I can remember.
So I'm sittin in my parents' comfy recliner chair in flip-flops and sweatpants with a Friday-sized bowl of Froot Loops early in the morning, and I'm watchin news coverage about the Caylee Anthony case. It was my first time hearing abo
ut the whole thing, so I naturally resorted to my mom to fill me in on the details. "Wait, the mom is in jail for killing the baby girl?" I muffled through a chipmunk-sized cheekful of cereal. She replied how the mom waited for a month to report the missing girl Caylee, and hasn't cooperated with the police so far. Then some lady on the TV, an attorney or family relative I think, started yelling and crying about how the incarcerated mother, the mother, wasn't going to be around for the holidays. When I saw the grandmother of Caylee crying on TV at that comment, I got really confused. I muffled again, "wait, the grandma wants the daughter to be released?" and my mom told me that the grandparents lived with Caylee's mother and were defending her in this whole process. I said, "wait a minute, this doesn't make sense. A little girl is gone, neither the mother nor the grandparents reported her missing for a friggin month, nobody's talkin to the cops, they haven't found a body yet--what is goin on here?"
And right on cue, my dad chimed in from another room the two matter-of-fact words that, in my household at least, have become the most consistent, discussion-ending, and funniest explanation for all things we find otherwise inexplicable in life.
"White folk, man. U know that."
Later on my dad and I had to make a trip to the Home Depot to finish a little drapes project we were working on. As we got into the store we passed one of those gi-normous snow-globe lawn inflatables fully equipped with a 4-ft. Santa, Frosty, Rudolph and fake snow blowing in the wind. "Now, c'mon. That's just damn rediculous," my dad laughed as we passed the snow globe and a bunch of other similar oversized novelties, including a snowy penguin, snowy elves and snowy Santa Claus and reindeer sets--in northern California, mind you. Of course I'm all worked up at this point--I raved and ranted the entire walk to the window treatment section of the store about the utter rediculousness of all of those winterized Christmas decorations in the
current 70-degree and sunny (literally) section of the country called northern California, where they're more likely to see volcano magma or another Raiders SuperBowl appearance than snowflakes. "Who in their right mind would buy any of this stuff up here, tho? For real?" I loudly demanded to no one in particular.
And right on queue, my dad (much more quietly, this time) gave me the answer: "You already know exactly who buys this stuff. Two words."
I can only speculate as to how often my family's version of "Black folks' final answer" is used amongst the rest of us, but I gotta believe there's more to it than my family being a bunch of closet racists. Whenever I try to use the "white folks" punchline as a quasi-legit explanation for life's various oddities, more often than not I get a reaction of genuine laughter--not to mention some level of recognition that in a discussion of "Things People of Certain Races Do Fairly Consistently", the category of "Crazy, Inexplicable Shit" seems to fit more often in "Caucasian people" territory than anywhere else. (Please refer to items such as cow-tipping, BASE jumping, "World's Wildest Police Videos", the Brittney/Paris/Lindsey trifecta, all of the national political scandals of the past 3-5 years (notable exceptions: JJ Jr's involvement with Blagojevich and Kwame Kilpatrick), and--of course--the Caylee Anthony situation, as evidence of this claim.)
we pay the taxes in this b__ch, n__ga use ya' right!"
-Pastor Troy, "Oh Father" (Album: Face Off--2001)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So, since the last time I posted...
-O.J. got Mack-trucked,
-handguns in homes became constitutional (and most of DC cried),
-the 40th anniversary of the "Black Power Fist" came and went,
-gas prices climbed Mt. Everest and then descended back into Death Valley,
-hurricanes tore up the Gulf and Caribbean--again,
-the economy started tanking,
-we elected the first non-white president (WOOOO!!! PARTIEEEEEEE!!!)
-the economy kept tanking, even worse than before, and...
-Detroit natives and residents somehow gained ANOTHER reason to be utterly miserable.
Who knew, right? Anywayz, I'm back with a promise to keep this thing more up to date with all of the racial quirks I come across in this fantastic mess called American livin'--and I'm gunna re-up today with one of my comical favorites that goes back for as long as I can remember.
So I'm sittin in my parents' comfy recliner chair in flip-flops and sweatpants with a Friday-sized bowl of Froot Loops early in the morning, and I'm watchin news coverage about the Caylee Anthony case. It was my first time hearing abo
ut the whole thing, so I naturally resorted to my mom to fill me in on the details. "Wait, the mom is in jail for killing the baby girl?" I muffled through a chipmunk-sized cheekful of cereal. She replied how the mom waited for a month to report the missing girl Caylee, and hasn't cooperated with the police so far. Then some lady on the TV, an attorney or family relative I think, started yelling and crying about how the incarcerated mother, the mother, wasn't going to be around for the holidays. When I saw the grandmother of Caylee crying on TV at that comment, I got really confused. I muffled again, "wait, the grandma wants the daughter to be released?" and my mom told me that the grandparents lived with Caylee's mother and were defending her in this whole process. I said, "wait a minute, this doesn't make sense. A little girl is gone, neither the mother nor the grandparents reported her missing for a friggin month, nobody's talkin to the cops, they haven't found a body yet--what is goin on here?"And right on cue, my dad chimed in from another room the two matter-of-fact words that, in my household at least, have become the most consistent, discussion-ending, and funniest explanation for all things we find otherwise inexplicable in life.
"White folk, man. U know that."
Later on my dad and I had to make a trip to the Home Depot to finish a little drapes project we were working on. As we got into the store we passed one of those gi-normous snow-globe lawn inflatables fully equipped with a 4-ft. Santa, Frosty, Rudolph and fake snow blowing in the wind. "Now, c'mon. That's just damn rediculous," my dad laughed as we passed the snow globe and a bunch of other similar oversized novelties, including a snowy penguin, snowy elves and snowy Santa Claus and reindeer sets--in northern California, mind you. Of course I'm all worked up at this point--I raved and ranted the entire walk to the window treatment section of the store about the utter rediculousness of all of those winterized Christmas decorations in the
current 70-degree and sunny (literally) section of the country called northern California, where they're more likely to see volcano magma or another Raiders SuperBowl appearance than snowflakes. "Who in their right mind would buy any of this stuff up here, tho? For real?" I loudly demanded to no one in particular.And right on queue, my dad (much more quietly, this time) gave me the answer: "You already know exactly who buys this stuff. Two words."
I can only speculate as to how often my family's version of "Black folks' final answer" is used amongst the rest of us, but I gotta believe there's more to it than my family being a bunch of closet racists. Whenever I try to use the "white folks" punchline as a quasi-legit explanation for life's various oddities, more often than not I get a reaction of genuine laughter--not to mention some level of recognition that in a discussion of "Things People of Certain Races Do Fairly Consistently", the category of "Crazy, Inexplicable Shit" seems to fit more often in "Caucasian people" territory than anywhere else. (Please refer to items such as cow-tipping, BASE jumping, "World's Wildest Police Videos", the Brittney/Paris/Lindsey trifecta, all of the national political scandals of the past 3-5 years (notable exceptions: JJ Jr's involvement with Blagojevich and Kwame Kilpatrick), and--of course--the Caylee Anthony situation, as evidence of this claim.)
So the argument goes... er, so the argument went, until November 5th, 2008.
On that day, a black man (er, a half-black man) got elected to be the leader of the free world--and on January 20th, 2009, said black man (er, half-black man) will take over the office.
That means I've gotta start thinking harder about when I try to use my old reliable punchline from now on, doesn't it?
For the first time in modern history, we are finally going to get to see a non-white person's take on running the most powerful office in the world. And consequently Barack Obama's election victory, in some small way, makes the black population of America that much more accountable for its own well-being. Just as Barack Obama's every move and decision will be hyper-scrutinized and analyzed because of this fact, the Afro-American community will also have the magnifying glass on it at various points now, during and after the Obama presidency ends. What will we do during these times of extra attention and analysis? Will we waste the newfound energy and momentum this historic presidency has created for us by simply being content that "we finally got one in there?" Or will we, as a community, use that magnifying glass to draw attention to and improve upon the quality of our situations throughout the country?
I for one hope that we "ante up and kick in."
