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Alright, here it is Friday afternoon…the room is all empty, except for the glitter that the people I spend my day with spilled all over my carpet – gold, silver, red, and green glitter…if I am not careful I might get accused of spending time at an adult beverage distribution center where the female associates are allowed to disrobe, and will do so if the price is right. Something about strippers and glitter – I am going to ponder that one a bit longer…

This week we are starting a new novel and I had to discuss the P.C. way to address the all hated “N” word. Let me tell you, I have a very diverse bunch of young people with whom I associate with on a daily basis – little did I know that what I was about to do was open a huge can of worms. I kept it rather simple and requested the youngsters to compile their thoughts on the subject of racism and how it affects their lives, if at all…pretty tame stuff right? You would think so. However, what I received was anything but tame.

I called upon one of the youngsters to share what her ideas were – she has blond hair, blue eyes, rather thin, and pretty plain. I have learned from my mistakes – (note to self: Never call upon the first caucasion  female who raises her hand). This girl is very articulate and well read. What she had to say kept me speechless for at least 45 seconds. Now, mind you, 45 seconds does not seem like all too much of time, however, when standing in front of a room of 36 other people, all rather young, 45 seconds seems like 45 minutes.

I will not bore you with the girl’s writing, however, I will share with you some of the highlights of her opinion: “Most people do not realize how much racism there currently is against whites. [...] A white boy applying for college has fewer opportunities for financial aid than a black or Mexican girl would have, simply because of race. It is reverse racism and it affect me.” She went on to describe how social clubs can be limited to race – but white people could never have such clubs – I guess the country club does not count.

I had a class in college that discussed this very issue – It was the only class that I received lower than an A- in and that really threw off my GPA – I still graduated with honors and was inducted into Sigma Tau Delta, but that is another topic. This class I took really got me upset at other races when I should have been upset with the professor for making me upset. He kept telling the entire lecture hall how the “White man took and took from the Natives.” “How the white man sold other people into slavery.” “How the White man has caused the problems with society when it comes to illegal immigration.” I was one of the very few people who actually stood up to this bigoted professor – he would spout off statistics about things that were contradicted in his very own textbook – maybe I was one of the only ones who actually read it. When I pointed out to him that he was wrong and that the statistics he reported were totally inaccurate, he challenged me – that was his first mistake…I pointed out in his book where he wrote one thing and repeated what he had just said – he told me that my interpretation was wrong – I told him, then please tell me how I could interpret it a different way – I showed him on three different pages the exact statistics – once again, his book – and once again, he told me that I was interpreting his work incorrectly – by then I had sparked some other people in the crowd to show a little backbone – some of them stated that they interpreted the writing the same way I had – I have to admit, I would get flushed and goosebumps would rise up when I heard someone else back me up…when the class was over I had other students stop me and tell me that they had been thinking the same thing I accused the professor of but they were just too afraid to confront him about it…well, I ended up with a “B+” in the class because I slammed the final and there was nothing else he could ding me on…rat bastard.

What I am trying to say is this: It had to have taken a lot of courage for this particular young woman to express what she was feeling. I know that some of the other people in the room did not agree with her completely, but I did see some who did.  She stood up for what she believes in and made a stance – isn’t that exactly what we hope our future generations will do? Do we not want our youth to challenge authority and point things out that are wrong? I encourage my youngsters to find an error in my work and point it out to me – I want to know that I make mistakes – I want them to know I make mistakes – they have to see that no one is immune to errors – I also let them know that there are things that I truly “Do Not Know” – I may be mistaken at times, but I am not perfect.

I know what I should have said when given the opportunity in front of that lecture hall (Hey Dumb-ass – don’t you think that “Wonderbread” here has a lot of things going on – and your Dumb-ass is just slowing my roll; but then I would not be any better than my racist professor who was teaching me how not to be racist…if dumb-ass professors were a race then I would have to become a racist and lynch that rat bastard up by his toes, scalp him, throw his ass over the border, and slap the stupid dot right off of his forehead – but that would be inappropriate – plus it would only set me up for reverse racism – what if people were racist against smart-ass professors???

Sleep soundly and softly…

As the week begins to come to a close, I am happy to say that I no longer get phone calls just as I sit down with my family for dinner.  I have to say, my candidate did win. For some reason I found myself leaning more towards him than the other candidate. I felt I had to pick the lessor of two evils – I believe that the clincher for me was the fact that McCain made a very bad decision – we chose a president based on the information that is given us – unfortunately for Mr. McCain we have been given a lot of negative  information about him through the media. Now, what I found was that McCain had to make a very big decision – a very important decision – who will be the Vice President of the United States in the event he wins the election – he decided to select a person who is an outsider – I applaud him for that – however, he picked someone so far from the outside that it appeared he did not want to win the election in the first place.

I have nothing against Sarah Palin – hell, I was hoping that she would stick around long enough for Tina Fey to come back to SNL…but, from my perspective, McCain decided that Ms. Palin would be the right person to take over for him under any circumstance, be it death, illness, broken bone, anythhing – he chose her – and I am stressing the “HER” part. He was hoping to bank on the women’s momentum going into the election. He witnessed how disheartened Hillary Clinton supporters were when she lost the primary and thought that he could slide a woman in there and the women of America would take her as a fill-in for Hillary…this was a major blunder on his part…I am sorry. I believe that had McCain picked a more reliable running-mate – one with more experience than winning beauty contests – he would have had no problem winning the election…I know that I would have voted for him.

What gets me are all of the African-Americans who are all of the sudden thinking that because they have a Black man going into the White House things are going to be different for them…I heard of a driver, who is black and the owner of the truck, who is white, getting into the passenger seat of the truck and expected the owner to drive him around. All the driver said to his boss was, “No, No. Today you are driving because we are in charge now.” Ain’t that some shit? I witnessed a black man trying to get a free donut from Yum Yum Donuts -  when the cashier told him the price he just pointed to the newspaper on the counter and said, “I don’t think I will be paying for this today or tomorrow or the next day. You see, we have one of our own in the White House now.” You got to be kidding me.

You really want to know what is funny? Obama is a true, African-American…he is no more blacker than I am – hell, I probably know more black people than he knows…I know I went to school with more black people than he did. The black people of America are starting to rise up and shout as if they are in church – “Dat’s right! Dat’s right! We gotsa a brotha up in da office naw! Dat’s right! Lookie he’r! Dees cracker ass crackers doe not know was ’bout to hit ‘em! Da powar of da black man has done taken over he’r.”

I just find it funny – that’s all. What strikes me as crazy is that everyone expects these changes to happen overnight. We are already hearing about transition teams and Obama’s cabinet – come on people, it is going to take a lot more time than a week…some people are expecting reparation checks the first week of February. Well, I had a conversation with some highly educated people about this very issue. I know they are highly educated because I am one of the educators who educated them…anyway, we were discussing the major issues that they are facing today and how they expected Obama to address those issues. Then I had them read John F. Kennedy’s inaugural speech, January 20, 1961.

I had them read it out loud so that those who were listening could feel the full effects of Kennebunkport, Maine. I had them read the speech without the “r”s so that we could feel the crisp, winter, wind ripping through our bones. I had them read it as if there were not microphones in the class (there really are no microphones, but I don’t tell them that) so that the people who are sitting the cheap seats can hear them…I had them read it as if it were Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech. And then I asked them this very simple question: “Could any one of the candidates have given this speech today and keep its same meaning?” I go some heads that nodded…it was the end of the day. Then I asked, “Do any of the issues they were facing then reflect any of the issues we are facing today?” I got more heads nodding. Then I asked, “Could you see any candidate give this speech and persuade you to think that things would actually get done?” I got a lot of heads nodding then. And then I asked, “Why?” and the response I got was amazing – it made me feel like I have had some impact on them – their answers were resounding and clearly thought out…some of them even paused to relish in their accomplishment of a great answer – “Because if you thought that it would not have a better impact on us if Obama read it versus McCain reading it then you would not have made us read it four times and kept asking us if it still applied today.” I almost cried…it is like I have shown them their wings and told them to fly.  http://www.bartleby.com/124/pres56.html

They said, that Kennedy was pretty much like Obama – except for the African part, the rich kid part, the knowing who his father is part, the not drinking and laughing at Uncle Ted part – but the part that we were at a crossroads and that someone had to stand up and say that things really do need to change – Imagine President Bush – his administration and his 8 years in office have been so bad and riddled with strife that we wanted a change so bad that we elected a black man – hell, an illegal alien could have won the election just to get Bush out…

Things will change – maybe the KKK will rise up again and take back the country like it did with the south…maybe Obama will do a good enough job that we elect him again in four years. Maybe he will screw up everything so bad that we need a person who is capable of winning an Alaskan Beauty Pageant to come in and say, “I told ya’ll that you shudda voted for me las time…now who here wants some stew? Oh, Look, if you look really close you can see the Kremlin from the upstairs bedroom if you can get Bristol and Levi out of there. Those kids are always playing house.”

Well, I for one is not too upset with the results of the presidential election – I am offended that the people of California are so shut-in that they feel they should decide how a person should spend their lives…Proposition 8 should have failed. It does not bother anyone except for the people who are trying to find love and happiness – who are we to tell someone else that our opinions are better so they should be law? I am sorry – it just bothers me that my next door neighbor put up a sign that says, “Yes on 8. Save Marriage” This is the same Chinese guy who is going through a divorce for the third time…go figure…no that is inappropriate if I have ever seen it. Sleep well. Nachos and applesauce.

It all came to pass on a rather strange day. The light in my car that tells me I have a low tire was lit and I did not have a low tire. I should have known from that moment on that things were not going to go my way. However, I was able to get to work that day; I spent a wonderful 7 hours discussing Sir Gawain and the Green Knight to people who just wanted me to cut right to the chase – “What is going to happen?” they foolishly asked me. Little did they know that I was not going to tell them – I love to keep it a secret.

I have a very magical way in presenting this particular tale – I have the head of a doll – donated, unknowingly by one of my daughters – I have it dyed green – not puke green, but really, really green. I usually pull the doll out just as the story is beginning and I lie her on the table or podium, whichever I am utilizing at the time, and proceed to lecture on the tale.

Needless to say, the people are amazed at the wonderful green phenomenon on the table, or podium, whichever I am utilizing at the time. As the story continues, I have an axe that was made for me by one of my former educatees (I know it is not a word, but, you know what I mean). I pull the axe from under the table or podium – you get the hint. Anyway, just as Sir Gawain slams the axe down on the Green Knight I do the same to the unwittingly doll. The fun of the experiment is the look on the peoples’ faces as the head rolls along the floor. I now have their attention – they want to know what is going to happen because they want to know what I am going to do next.

Well, I continue in this manner until the entire story is completed – the “Ohhhs” and “Awwws” are music to my ears as the youngsters hear the final moments of the ageless tale. But, that is just 7 hours in a day…did I mention that I tell the exact same tale 5 times a day? Let me tell you, it sure does feel like I should have a two drink minimum at the end of the day. After every meeting I have with the minds of tomorrow I make sure that I call out to them, “Have a wonderful day – I will be here all week!” One person even told me that I should have my own show on Comedy Central…only if they record my meetings without me knowing it – I hate being asked to be funny on the spot.

Well, that night, I returned to my car to find that I had left the keys in my car. Now, this is a newer car, coat hangers and Slim Jims (no, not the beef jerky things) just do not seem to work. I looked around for one of those people who are really good at breaking into cars and guess what? There was not one around. Then I had an epiphany – “I will call ON-Star!” Did you see the little light bulb shine? Let me tell you, ON-Star has been a lifesaver for me whenever I have been lost – and I have been really lost. All I have to do is push that little blue button at the bottom of my rearview mirror and they pop on – “How may I help you today, Mr. …..” Now, I know ON-Star would have no problem popping open my locks; some how they know exactly where I am at all times. The problem with this, you guessed it: There is no little blue button on the outside of the car. I wish they would be able to see me bashing my head against the driver’s window and know that I left my keys in there…hell, they know everything else. So I sat and pondered for a bit – Oh, did I neglect to mention that I do not have a cell phone? I always say, what is the point in having one – If I need to get a hold of someone I would use the pay phones – there are no damn payphones for miles of my work and I wear some very nice shoes that would really hurt my feet – not to mention the bunions.

So, after 3 hours of trying to get into my car I decided that I needed a little, “Me” time. I stopped off at an Adult Beverage Distributor and proceeded to partake in their products. I apparently had partaken too much though. By the time I got home my alarm was going off to wake up…there is no way in hell I was going to make it back to my home away from home – I had to use one of those sick days that everyone else seems to have no problem using. My problem is, I just don’t know how to sound sick on the phone when I call my boss…why they really care I do not know. It is not like the money is coming from their pockets or not – hell, I am actually paying myself to get paid to stay home.

Well, the boss man answers his phone on the second ring – that is what too much coffee does to a person – I start in on how I am not going to be able to make it into work that day because I am sick. Can you believe the gall of that man? He says to me, “Well, you don’t sound sick to me.” I had to fake a cough and pretend to sneeze – I had to sniffle a couple of times…I told him that I was sick again, and he just repeated his last comment – “You don’t sound sick to me.” It was at that moment that I had had enough. I had to convince that man that I was sick. I held my shoulders upright, took in a long, deep breath and began…”Mr. ******,” I said as calmly as can be. “I am fucking my grandma.” My boss must have dropped the phone. When I heard him again he said to me, “You are fucking your grandma – Man that is sick.” What else did I need to say? “I told you I was sick. That is not something I wanted to tell you in the office.”

Now that, right there, is inappropriate. Sleep well.[poll=2]

Here I am, finding myself a bit torn. On one hand I want to be this really nice guy who respects the female gender while on the other hand I want to be this really nice guy who admires the female gender. Now, I know what you are thinking – “Come on, that is the same thing.” But I say “Nay!” I do have a case-in-point:

The other day I was just minding my own business – you know what I mean – just looking at everyone walking around and by me. Well, the weather has been particularly nice in these there parts of the woods and some of the women – others would call them other names, but I will get into that later – well, some of the women are wearing clothing that is revealing. No, I do not mean that their clothes were see-through or anything like that. I am saying, it looked as if they were wearing close to nothing. I can hear you say, “Get to the point Man!” Well, alright. I happened to be looking at this one, rather large chested woman – I am talking very large, and that was the only thing large on her – I think, since I really did not notice anything else on her…I am a man damn-it – we see things like that. Anyway, I must have been taking too much time watching her walk by me because she stopped in front of me and decided to talk to me…she did not expect to carry a conversation on with me. She tell me…are you ready for this??? “Excuse me but my eyes are right here!” Now, she happened to say this to me in such a condescending manner that I felt obliged to look up. Then I said to her – “Well, that is just nice. Now, could you point out your nipples to me because I have been trying to figure out where they are?”

Needless to say I never did find out where they were – I guess she wanted me to keep it looked in my imagination. That really does get me to thinking – I sit here on a daily basis and I see things that would make a man in my situation cry – I have seen it all – and I am not just speaking figuratively, I mean, in the biblical sense. I have seen parts of girls no one should see expect the doctor who brought her in the world or her husband. I actually witnessed a young lady today exposing her breasts to another young girl – now, mind you, they did not know I was watching them – I am not some creepy, old guy, sitting at the bus stop with a carton of popcorn on my lap asking any strange kids if they want popcorn – this is directly in front of me. When she realized that I saw what she was doing she quickly rolled them back into skimpy bra that was holding them in and just giggled.

What is it with that younger generation? Is this what my parents were doing in the ‘60s? I just find it so hard to sit here thinking that my mother was going around popping her breasts out in an area where they should be kept in…and then giggling about it. I have to call my mom just to make sure that never happened.

Speaking of mothers – I spoke to mine the other day – I feel really sorry for her. I could not imagine what she is going through – my grandfather is in the hospital and she has been taking care of him – him and my grandmother I should say. But, there are some limits that a mother should never, under any circumstance ask of her children – especially her grown son: “Help me figure out who your real father is,” “Could you explain one more time the proper way to put a condom on,” “Can you hand me that hot water bottle there on the sink and the white hose looking thing next to it,” and “Would you help me give your grandma a bath?” Oh My God!!! Talk about tense moments. I would rather scratch my eyes out with paper clips…now I know why Oedipus stabbed out his eyes – so that he would not have to look into his children’s eyes and ask them to give grandma Jocasta a bath – “Don’t you mean Mommy, Dad?” “NO. Sit down li’l Caesar, there are some things I need to tell you about your Mommy.” (Do you think that is where the name came from for the pizza thing? Strange how you get two of them – just like eyes.) Well, needless to say, or maybe not needless, but just in case you thought I was strange enough to go a long with it, I did not give my grandma a bath – I thought it would be easier to give her a shower – that way, when I washed her back the soap would not just stay in the tub. Plus, hell, I knew that tub was not big enough for both of us – we did both fit in the shower…albeit was a little cramped in there when I shaved her legs.

Well, now I know that I need a new pair of sunglasses – the weather is going to be staying rather pleasant around here and things are going to be popping out all over the place – I do not want to get caught staring at things that do not have little pins or Xs on them saying – “You are Here” again, and, I think I might have gotten some baby oil in my eyes when my aunts came over for a massage…aunts pay pretty good when you give them a “Happy Ending.” I know that it all sounds really strange, but, whenever I sit around and watch people walk by, I am going to keep my mouth shut and make sure I do not drool next time – drooling is inappropriate. Good Night.

I have been wanting to get this started for so long I can’t remember what it was that I wanted to talk about…I am sure that it was important or I would never have taken the time to set up blogs and get passwords and the like. The fact of the matter is, I really do enjoy writing and I just thought I would take a little bit of my time on a daily basis and share some of the things I have learned today, or things that might have slipped out during conversations with some of the young people I hang out with all day.

The first thing that comes to vision when I first walked in the door I was surprised by a picture that someone had drawn on my wall – don’t worry, it is covered in paper – but, some dumb ass person decided to draw a hand on the crotch of one of the shadow people I have. Now, mind you, it really is not a big deal that someone drew a hand, no, the issue is that who ever it was drew the hand over the shadow of a guy’s crotch – here is the kicker – the guy who drew the picture, turns out is – let’s just say, he can tango, disco, click his heels together and call him Dorothy – the young person who’s picture is on the wall is a male person who does not know what the big deal is with all of the rainbows – he has a nice Italian last name and could even possibly be connected in some way – if you know what I mean – I know you can’t see me, but I am running my index finger over the side of my nose and I do not have an itch or a booger. Well, this young Italian boy is very offended by the drawing and feels a bit threatened by the picture – I have to admit, it does look a bit uncomfortable…for one, the guy who drew the picture has really big hands…I hope he does not become a proctologist when he grows up –

I happen to know from a very reliable source that he is going into fashion after school (he told me last week that he got accepted to a fashion school) – I am already trying to get him to make me some shirts that fit better around the neck – apparently he is not going to be that type of fashion designer –

Which gets me on to another subject – how come every time you see a fashion show it is always about the women’s clothing?????? I mean really, how many different ways are there to make a dress? I think they (the fashion designers) just throw a different type of material over some skinny (notice I did not say slender) chick (that is right, I said it) and call it “The New Style” – You have to be kidding me – yellow dresses were popular in the ‘60s, orange and pink in the ‘80s, and black in the ‘00s (how do you say that? In the “zeroes”?) it was all about the black and industrial look – and now, since all of those have been played out the Wonders of Fabric tell us that the knew look this year is get ready people – for men it is the Size 0 – that is right – Size 0 for MEN! What the hell is everyone thinking? I look at my big, fat, ham hands scratching away at the keyboard – I hit so many different keys at a time I think I am starting a new language – I just have to convince the others – any way, I don’t even know what a Size 0 man would look like. Well, I do, but I do not want to stereotype – that would be wrong…hell, I will stereotype, it would look like some guy with chicken legs, shrugged shoulders, boney elbows, sunken eyes, and no ass…I mean the leg does not bow out at the top of the thigh…flat as a pancake – I would say a carpenter’s dream – flat as a board that has never been nailed – but I would only be talking about the carpenter in The Village People – I will just say it – like the guy who drew the hand on the crotch of the mafia guy.

I can barely squeeze myself into a pair of size 38s – what do I have to look forward to if the ideal size is a Zero??? You know what, I am not going to worry about it – I am going to cut out the section of the picture where the hand is and tell everyone that we are being censored and I could not draw a mid section of a male because it was causing an up-roar.

Now, as I ponder how to cut out the genitalia of shadow drawing I am going to sign out and not worry about it – but you know I will worry about it and I will over ponder it – then I will be fixated on the portion that I have to cut out and in the middle of the night I may just scream out in a fit of a dream – NO DON”T CUT OUT HIS GENITELIA WE CAN JUST COVER IT!!! That would be inappropriate.

Sleep well.