Day Three: The Precipice

Peace to One and All:

I'd like to go on record as being the 97th million person to remind you all to go out and vote tomorrow. I'd also like to mention a few other things...

a) I'm definitely NOT going to lie to you and tell you that 'It doesn't matter who you vote for as long as you vote.' I'm not sure why people bother saying that trite shit. Perhaps because it makes them feel objective and magnanimous. I don't know. What I do know is that if you're inclined to vote for four more years of the same deplorable situation then I'd rather you stayed your ass at home and not participate - thank you very much.

b) Black folks in battleground states (Namely, Ohio, Missouri, Pennsylvania, New Mexico and Virginia) who, for some reason or another, are choosing not to vote need a potent dose of strong reconsideration. We're on the precipice of placing an African-American man of whom we can be proud in the White House. This ain't your father's black presidential candidate. This guy is bonafide. Let's give our kids a measure of proof that, despite overwhelming odds, they can achieve whatever goal they set their minds to. Also, as Chris Rock joked, I'm tired of giving my sons that speech when I hardly believe it myself.

c) Speaking of Jesse and Al: Can we now, at long last, admit to ourselves that these cats are the self-serving, self-glorifying, shameless, running-to-the-front-of-the-pack leeches that many of us thought they were? Their conservative critics have always accused them of being "race hustlers." Can't we admit that, on rare occasions such as this, right wingers can actually be correct? Al has, at least, done the decent thing by keeping his mouth shut and not (God forbid!) endorsing Obama. But Jesse? Appearing on Fox News (of all places) and audibly admitting that he'd like to castrate Obama? That was completely disgusting and should be, if we've got the good sense that God has given most of us, inexcusable. I think November 4th should be the day that we make two extremely progressive moves on behalf of black America: Put a black man in the White House and put these two jokers out of work. Who knows. Maybe these "Men of Faith" will actually have to get real jobs.

d) And finally, could someone tell me why people afix bumper stickers to their vehicles? Who do you think is being convinced to vote one way or another based on the slogan attached to the back of your '97 Accord? What happens if/when your candidate loses? And even if he or she wins, don't you suppose that you might want to sell your car one day? What if the potential buyer votes to the left or right of you? As much as I support the Obama candidacy, unless homeboy is willing to buy my Camry for above Blue Book, I'm not gluing his name to my car.

The (Ill-Considered) Rise of the Party People

The Evening of November 4, 2008

My wife recently received an invitation from an enthusiastic Obama supporter to attend a “Victory Celebration.” This event is set to take place on the occasion of Barack’s defeat of his doddering, arm-flailing Republican opponent. My wife, who’s been desirous of celebrating this historic event in one way or another, plans on going and has repeatedly chided me for my unwillingness to participate. I’ve also heard that many black folks are planning Obama victory parties all across the country.

Those of you who know me and/or read this blog should be familiar with my support of the good Senator from Illinois. This group should also know, by now, how deep my distrust of white America runs. Far be it from me to be a party pooper, but Obama-Mania has reached such a crescendo that I worry about the possible ramifications for black America should he lose. I fear for those who haven’t been paying attention to the last couple of elections. Hello? Voting “irregularities” occurred in both the 2000 (Florida) and 2004 (Ohio) elections - and I don’t need to remind any of you that these victories were stolen from wealthy white men. What makes you November 4th partygoers think that the same won’t happen in 2008? The entire election process has been deeply and repeatedly compromised. AND, as you might expect, to one degree or another, Bradley will be in effect. We can not allow our excitement to cloud our judgment. We need to take a page from the Book of Larry David and curb our enthusiasm.

A co-worker and I have a bet going. It’ll be the easiest money (well, truthfully we didn’t wager any money but I’m the type who relishes any kind of triumph, monetary or otherwise) I’ve ever made. The bet is based on her conviction that Obama will win Texas. TEXAS. This woman is intelligent, educated and generally cautious. But she’s so deluded by her love for Obama that she actually believes he’ll win a state that hasn’t gone Democrat in a national election since LBJ. She, like some others, has allowed her gusto to turn her into merely a fan as opposed to a clear thinking student of political history.

Again, I’m not trying to rain on anyone’s parade. I wholeheartedly believe that the symbolism of a black man winning the election can’t be understated. But an Obama victory will be, after all is said and done, just the beginning. This country is still a mess and, last time I checked, many of our people are still laboring as a part of a permanent underclass. Predictably, there will also be a great deal of white backlash with which to contend. So please. As many of you self-satisfactorily dip your brushes in the can to paint the White House black, I beg you to consider the work still left to be done – not only by Obama but also by us.

The Office of My Familiar

"I never noticed how phat your ass is, Boss."


My wife is a pharmacist. That means she's got her doctorate (Pharm.D.) and is a nationally recognized and state-certified professional. I'm not simply bragging on my lady here (not that it would score me any points since she stopped reading my blog long ago). I mean, I'm extremely proud of her and I understand the economic and social obstacles that she's had to overcome to accomplish her goals, but the whole reason I'm mentioning it is because of two work-related incidents she's shared with me.

The first was recurring. While we were living in Virginia some years ago, she was working with a pharmacist who happened to be a black male. If any of you can recall my Heathen Manifesto post, he was the Credit to His Race who had two families, and had the temerity to chide her about not belonging to a church. At any rate, she began to notice that as soon as he became comfortable with her, he suddenly lost all traces of his professionalism. Propriety and pretense devolved into frequent and often bizarre inappropriateness. In her eyes, this fall into unsuitable familiarity was precipitated by the fact that she was a black woman. Because she was a "sister," he immediately assumed that he could get away with what one of my Houston frat brothers refers to as, "that ol' bullshit."

Fast forward to the present. My wife works with a Jewish man (let's call him Mike) who is the pharmacist-in-charge. The two of them are the regular, nine-to-fivers at her current location. Other pharmacists are often brought in to provide coverage when one of them needs to take off. Recently, an outside pharmacist (let's call him Elroy) was hired to take over for Mike when he had a doctor's appointment. For about a half-an-hour, Mike, Elroy and my wife worked together with seamless professionalism. As soon as Mike left for his appointment, Elroy asked, loudly and to no one in particular, "Alright! Where the party at?" In her words, "This Negro thought that the pharmacy transformed into a nightclub just because a white man went to a doctor's appointment."

She's not alone. EVERY SINGLE black female professional that I know has had to endure (or is doing so currently) some kind of come on, ignorant comment, leer or improper gesture from some brother that gets just a little too familiar. Now, before you rush to judgment about me, I recognize that this is not endemic to my people. Men being what they are, women in general have historically been exposed to both sexual and non-sexual workplace incongruities. Having acknowledged that, I still find it regrettable that some brothers just can't check that player shit at the office door. If I had a dollar for every complaint I've heard, from my wife, sister, mother, and women friends, about some failed attempt at workplace pimpery, I'd move my family to the Hamptons. If any of you would-be office Lotharios are reading this, my suggestion to you would be to focus on your God-damned job. Apart from having to occasionally bear witness to some of the shittiest game I've ever seen, I'm tired of sisters at my job regarding me with suspicion just because I smile at them and say "Hello."

Blaxplanation Disclaimer: I realize it was wrong to take a pic of a genial, professional black couple and contaminate it with that unfortunate quote, but, like the recently-removed editor of Golfweek, I'm just trying to generate some readership.