The "Brother-Dent", Part Deux

America...home of the double digit unemployment rate, can't find a job havin', confused 48 year old black president, headin' towards a Sarah Palin Presidency of the brave.

(OK, maybe the Palin thing was a bit much; that woman is only good for kneepads and bad Katie Couric interviews).

A lot of folks here in the ol' U.S. of A are a little ticked off at our history-makin' prez. Ya see, the man, I believe, didn't read the fine print on the "be careful what you wish for" manifesto when he got picked for this job.

He's had a few flub ups (the xmas plane thing, the major flaws in his health care plan, Joe Biden sticking his own penis in his mouth a few times, etc). He spent his 1st State of the Disjointed (oh wait, I meant "Union") apologizing for the, well, non-existent progress that has taken place under his command. Ok, the Dow has bounced back somewhat...but realistically, that's the only good news that has taken place in the 373 days (as of this posting) the man has taken office.

Now, as a person of color, of course this bothers me a tad, as that the fact that this country, after, oh, nearly 233 years got its head out of its Declaration of Ass-apendence and decided "hey, let's not pick another middle-aged white dude who couldn't give a shit about anyone except, well, other middle aged white dudes, and give the black guy a shot." And while (as I mentioned in my previous post in 2008) I know folks of melanin-surplus are still happy that President Obama hasn't had his ass blown off in the literal sense, there are still plenty of bullets hitting the man due to, well, him not performing the miracle of cutting unemployment in half, kicking bank's asses for putting us into this mess by lending people $ that they knew they couldn't pay back, f'ing around in Afghanistan (note to Barrack: it's never good for the leader of the free world to himmer and hum over a military decision...indecisiveness will get u back to Illinois to cry over the White Sox REAL quick), and general "duh!" moments.

Now, President Obama is a brilliant man, and he can put together a hell of a speech to make you feel good about yourself. And to be honest, I think he is the first guy that I've seen that I don't feel like "eh...he's full of shit!" when he speaks. (Not to say that he doesn't get facts wrong, i.e. like the "you lie!" comment a while back).

Sadly tho, he is a too logical of a man, trying to bring together 2 parties that, well, could give 2 craps about the American public that has put them in their seats in the first place. "We have to be right" is the motto of both their parties, with neither one trying to consult their constituents. And now, with Mr. Obama losing his filibuster-proof majority, he is on a slippery slope that will lead to lame-duck status 2 years before it (may) happen (once the Democrats get swept out of office in November, barring a major comeback of his presidency).

I am not hating on Barrack Obama. It would be an honor to meet the man...if for only the fact that he has shown other melanin-plus folk that you don't have to run a football or have a fancy slam dunk to be someone memorable in this country. In that, he'll go down in history.

However, he's headed towards Jimmy Carter-ville if things don't swing around quickly.

A final point, then I'm gonna make dinner.

No one is giving the guy a break. Have you EVER seen this much coverage of a sitting president in the last 50 years?

President Obama is doing this....Obama is doing that...Obama wiped his ass and tissue was hanging from his trousers.

Gawd, this is why I didn't pursue a career in Journalism, despite my degree. The media is so full of shit, Miralax said "screw that, I can't fix this plug up."

He's black. If this guy was your typical white dude prez, unless we were nuking whatthefuckitscallastan, it wouldn't even get to the late part of the news.

We are holding him to a higher standard because he is "the first"...and that just isn't right. If John McCain won, would the media care (outside if the old fart was wearing Depends during the State of the Union)?

Nooooooooooooooooo.

Be real...at least I am holding him to a standard of this regard...

...perhaps he just didn't read that damned fine print on the "President of the U.S.A" job description.

Well, it may not matter.

If things don't turn around fast, we'll be back to those stiff middle age melanin deprived dudes again...

...or worse, we'll be renting "Whose Nailin' Palin" video if Sarah P gets a shot.

Might as well...we're getting screwed anyway. Might as well enjoy it.

Wow, there's a Negro choice, too?

I hate fat free pretzels.

Actually, that's utter bull poopies, cuz I just at 27 of them. Yeah, I counted the mofo's, cuz, well, I gotta do that now. In the last few months, I've seen pictures of me @ 28, 30, and 32.

I was a sexy bitch back then.

Good looking, skin wasn't looking like someone pee'd all over it, muscles were there, and I had an ass that would turn a gay preacher into a sinner (thanks for the lyric, Mr. Nelson). But now, hell, I'd wouldn't do me if I was a mobster ordered on a hit.

So diets suck butt cream.

But anywho, enough about moi.

About 4 days before this post (I think that's right; my sleep apnea has wrecked my mind so much, I couldn't name you ONE teacher or professor I had in my 16 years of schooling...wait, there was Mr. Cormincan, English professor...he looked like George Carlin (RIP) if he was a child molester smoking crack and sipping Yoo-Hoo's), I saw a news story about fellow folks of color getting shitty because on the upcoming census, one of the choices defining we dark-folks was the term "Negro." Now, this caused my eye to raise slightly, as I was on a hot streak of a rip-off pop-a-shot video game I was playing on my iPhone.

(Sadly, I am not a gamer; I'm more of a farter with rhythm, but that's another post for another day).

Anyway, all the popular so-called "leaders" (last time I checked, bout the only time black folks have exercised their right to vote was when B-Obama showed up, so I must of missed their election) of we "African-Americans" were all in an uproar, demanding that, oh, 300 million census documents have the term "Negro" removed.

Damn...that's a hell of a job @ Fed-Ex Kinkos/Office, or whatever it's called these days.

So after I finished playing my basketball game (as well as dispelling that lovely rumor that my melanin kind can actually shoot a basketball), I paid a little more attention to the story, then sat back for a moment to ponder this lovely little bit of information. It is amazing how much time you have to think when, well, you haven't collected a check for 20 out of the past 25 months or so.

(Damn it, that was about me, wasn't it? Son of a biscuit and gravy...sorry about that).

Now, I was born in 1969, right after Dr. King was "rudely dispatched", and about 2 years after interracial marriage (oh shit...I just realize my wife was white...well damn it, that explains the sunburn!) became legal in the U.S. I have been called "nigger" exactly twice...once while driving in Columbus OH, and I think one time walking in who knows where city back in my "G is a mad ho" tour of the mid 90's. Growing up in the Bronx, of course, "my nigga" was used frequently amongst my associates, and most of my life it, well, never truly bothered me. I rarely used it (actually I take that back, I never did use it, because my parents, who grew up in the Deep South during the time where hoses were used on them instead of watering yards and washing cars) would of, to quote the former wrestler Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson, "whooped my candy ass!" Now, with my just discovered her name wasn't "Carliqua"wife, and my degenerating sense of humor, I have been guilty of throwing the "n" word around in, well I admit, a poorly chosen way to be amusing at times. My wife is no racist (unless she had a "pity the dark child" moment when she married me) so she let it roll off, as if it was my right to use the word.

So, after the story, I sat down and tried to see what the relevance of this whole thing was, and why it was causing an uproar. As that I have never had a fire hose turned on me for any reason, or been beaten because I reflect light better than Caucasians, I probably didn't have as strong of a reaction as, say, my mother, father, and the rest of their generation (and the surviving generation before them, which is, sadly, dwindling) would, and bluntly, should have.

Then I thought about a post I did in 2008 about being "politically correct", and understanding that, well, words are deadly things at times, and God knows I've been cut by them more than I can count, ultimately it is up to the person that the words are being hurled towards to let them hurt you or not (unless there is truth in them, which, well, is an unavoidable pain if it is a sensitive subject).

So here I sit, divided on this word that has caused a lot of damage in this "United" States (I am sorry, we haven't been United except when we kicked the poor Indians off their own damned land), trying to see its relevance, from how this story made the news (anything that sucks always get front and center, doesn't it?) and why, ultimately, folks can't just say "screw it" and move on.

My oldest son asked me today why did people of different races had to be divided, and had to do things separately.

7 years old...didn't think I had to broach this subject this quickly.

My son is Negro (dictionary meaning: "a member of a dark-skinned group of peoples originally native to Africa south of the Sahara) and Caucasian ( often offensive of or relating to one of the traditional divisions of humankind, covering a broad group of peoples from Europe, western Asia, and parts of India and North Africa).

I tried to break it down the best way I could.

He said "that's so stupid."

Exactly...just like getting bent over a word, where, while understandably hurtful, and those who have had the power for 233 semi-odd years don't quite understand why it is, should be just let go of.

Then again, that is as likely to happen as FedEx Office finding the time to change the census forms.

Damn it, Now I gotta get a bowl of cereal...stupid deep thoughts at 1:17 in the morning.

2010 reasons, to, well, not list 2010 reasons

Yawn.

My 7 year old son, who, w/o the assist of alcohol, stumbled to bed after watching his 8th ball drop last night. It was interesting, really, because he didn't know who the hell I was due to his delirium, and I think he thought I was a cross between a large Hershey's kiss and Fat Albert's older, less rotund cousin. He eventually grabbed his little security blanket, and stumbled up to bed.

My wife and I retired soon after, and as I drifted off to sleep, for a moment I put aside the difficulties financially my family has had the last 2 years, and began to reminisce a little bit, as a new decade begins, and I chuckled to myself, knowing that I, myself, am at the beginning of my 5th decade of being on the earth.

Seems a lot to me...nothing more than a "speck in the eye" for the Big Guy upstairs (if you believe in that sort of thing), but for we humans, it does seem like a long damned time. For example, in 2012, I will be out of high school 25 years. My formative decade, the 1980's (where the Walkman, Atari 2600, and the VCR were high ends of technology) ended TWENTY YEARS ago. I look at my chest hairs, and the grays are beginning to mount a furious offensive on the black ones. My formentioned zombie-fied son, who is a big time "Star Wars" fanatic, is so into it, it makes my involvement 33 years ago when the first "Star Wars" flick seems so ancient.

But years are but numbers, right? I mean, I definitely don't act like a 40 year old father of 2 (unless my kids tick me off, at which I become, in a lot of ways sadly, like my dad, w/an incredible lack of patience that makes my oldest cringe in fear (and folks, fear and respect are two TOTALLY different things), and my youngest using his cuteness and brains (he may have Down Syndrome, but the mind works great) to cry and make my anger quickly subside. I am pretty up on the music and trends of today, even tho the kids today (wow, holy parent speak, BATMAN!) make me shake my head, as that I begin to understand why my parents, well, shook their heads at the stripped Lee's, leather bombers, shell-toed Addidas, and the other urban styles of the 1980's that I grew up around.

My best friend says that I have a negative outlook on life. I've been told the same thing by my mom, aunts, uncles, the priest, I think Shaggy from "Scooby Doo", between puff, puff, passes....right before he fell into a drug coma. I have always said that not everyone could be lying, cuz it would take too much effort, and human beings are too damn lazy to be that organized. So, I am not a sunny, yay rah, life is gonna be great sort of guy. But hell, I try to at least hide it well (well, except for Yankee games in October, but well, I can't stand to lose).

I guess the point of all this is, well, 2010 is here, a new decade has arrived, who knows what technological advances we will have when we welcome in 2020, and maybe we may learn from the mistakes of the past...both on a personal as well as a world-view level.

Then again, as that that hasn't worked out for a millenia, I may be out of my friggin' gourd, and we'll start wars, certain people will still think of people of different races as niggers, spicks, wetbacks, slant-eyed, cheap money grubbing Jew, terrorist Muslim dumb asses, just because there are a few bad apples in the bunch.

Wow, is that my negativity again?

Or is that partial truth, hopeful dreams, but sobering reality talking?

Happy 2010...and oh yeah, will someone come and help me take down my decorations?

It's a pain in the crevice, ya know?