About The Funk...

Observational Spittle from the mind of a man of color in his 40s, without the color added (most times). Come in, laugh, and you may learn something...

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Friday, April 4, 2014

The More Things...Never mind, I hate those old sayings, especially when they are true

I haven’t blogged in a while.

I sometimes get into these ruts where my desire to write gets stuffed, cuz I feel most folks don’t’ give a flying diarrhea what I have to say.

Now I have done some writing…I published my 2nd book (shameless plug here), and first for kids, “Cluck The Undercover Chicken.”  I’ve sold, oh, 10 copies in the 3 weeks it has been out.  It’s on Amazon all over the world in paperback and kindle.  (OK, End of plug).

What has caused me to post for the first time in nearly a year is an old memory brought up while I was at work.

There is this tall lanky kid who I sit next to who’ll I’ll call BieberTallWithoutDaDrugs.  Smooth with the ladies, but recently got his heart broken by some short chick with a bad perm.  

Anywho, all the ladies dig him at work…especially the women of color.  While in this day and age this shouldn’t be a big deal to me or anyone else, it reminded me of my college days, where I chased Caucasian women like a lion chased deer. Now I’d always heard (as ridiculous as it sounded) that white women where more sexually adventurous than black women, and that fascinated me. 

This of course, in hindsight, was pretty funny to me, as that at the time my experiences in the arena was not as expansive as they are now…ok, wait, y’all didn’t need to read that…let’s move on!

Anywho, I had no success in that arena at all, besides an occasional drunk make out session with one of two partners (and a summertime romance that ended up derailing a lot of my hopes and dreams).  We won’t even talk about my massive strikeouts with the ladies of color, who looked at me as the 200Lb version of Carlton from the “Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.”  I don’t know why this came back to me some near 25 years later, but it amuses me how much things have changed…yet in a lot of way, it hasn’t.

Every day the ladies of color I work with would muss with BieberTallWithoutDaDrugs’ hair, and he would try to play the role of the stereotypical pimp, enjoying the attention and feeling like he was in control.  Even though I am happily married, I always got a smidge jealous, which probably explains why the memory of a time long ago popped in my head.

Back in my day (god it hurts to say that), a black woman wouldn’t have given BieberTallWithoutDaDrugs the time of day.  And don’t get me wrong, he’s a great kid (when you are almost 20 years older than someone, you can call them a kid).  But now, well, it is sort of cool that folks can just look at each other and say “hey, don’t care if you are so pale the mortician couldn’t tell the difference.” 

Problem is, only a small sample see that. 

There is a stomach virus going around my city right now.  Just like that, wouldn’t’ be nice if the good things was viral instead of the bad?

Well, I guess, just like my luck with white women, that is just as big of a longshot.

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