I felt so good like anything was possible
I hit cruise control and rubbed my eyes
the last three days the rain was un-stoppable
it was always cold, no sunshine
I was talking about abortion earlier this week and I would like to present another controversial argument: racism. I was watching the Sopranos the other night (big surprize) and Meadow (the daughter) was dating a guy from school. They stop over at the Soprano’s place for breakfast when Tony Soprano sees the couple and is not happy. At first I was thinking that the kid was part of some rival family or his dad owed Tony money or something about business, but it was for a reason that surprised the hell out of me.
“Listen, I don’t want your brickette kind hangin around my place or my dawtar” said Soprano.
And the kid reacted was oppressed and appalled and actually talked back to Tony.
“He’s black?” I said totally bewildered. The kid looked nothing more than a tanned white guy and in no way did I ever think he looked black. Sure enough that’s what the story was going with and it went from there.
The kid had a black heritage and was acting like he was Mariah Carey’s cousin. If that kid’s gonna call himself black then I am going to call my self black…at least in the summertime I am. Back when I worked on the river I spent every weekend on the water and developed an insane tan. A British guy who owned a boat there even said,
“Good lord, you’re blacker than the ace of spades!” and I certainly was. I tan like a sonovabitch!
As for my heritage…
Lil’Boof: Mommy, what’s my heritage?
Mom: You’re American
Lil’ Boof: oh
Boof: Mom, what’s my heritage?
Mom: You’re American
Boof: No, where did my ancesters come from?
Mom: Well, your dad is from Wisconsin and I’m from Iowa
Boof: Mom, what’s my heritage? And don’t say American or Wisconsin or Iowa.
Mom watching tv: ah.. I think you’re German.
Boof: Dad, what do you think?
Dad: pfff ah.. German I guess.
Because I was never satisfied with the answers I continued to ask them.
Boof: Dad, what’s my heritage as in what country did my ancesters come from?
Dad: What do you mean? How does one figure that out?
Boof: Well what are you?
Dad: oh well I’m like an eighth Scandinavian, an eighth polish, a little Irish, some Norwegian, about 7/8th German and ect..
Boof: and what’s Mom?
Dad: I think she’s got some German, some this some of that.
So basically I just told people that I am pretty much European potpourri and that I represent the complete UN by myself. I have also realized that as each generation goes by, the less what Eastern hemisphere my (great/\30) grandpa really matters. Although my family is mostly German (probably) we don’t celebrate it other than eating a crap load of bratwurst every summer.
So based on the answers of “ect.” and “and the like” I’m just going to come out and call myself African American in warm weather and German American in cold. The incentive this gives me is that I can totally “have it both ways” and “have my cake and eat it too” or whatever.
Basically this opens the door to the numerous black jokes that are out there and whatever insults the Germans.
As a African German American, I am oppressed at how my people are treated. We do not go around eating Weiner schnitzel during Oktoberfest and uh…be good at sports. Oh no, we have lives too. Now…when I fill out an application I’m going be the token German-African-American guy that every company should have. That’s right, I can work wherever I want.
Then if the Germans should do something unpopular I can just revert more strongly to my African American heritage and put down the brats. That’s right, I’m living in John Kerry’s dream sequence where nothing can go wrong and I’m always the minority without having the prejudice.
Until then, have a good weekend and keep it up!