The “R” Word
Just for fun, and maybe a little subconscious delirium, I decided to post this on my Facebook timeline and on my Twitter account:
I think I’m going to comment on all posts I see tomorrow with just:
You’re a racist.
Those who know me know that this is just part of my BE-ZARR humor, or could very well be the result of being dropped as a small child. My parents never confirmed the latter, but there are plenty of signs this happened. Those who do not know me may take this as some passive aggressive outlet to an inner racist. Hmmm… sounds scandalous, but that theory is just not true. The truth is I love to laugh. I love even more to make others laugh.
I have a very diverse group of friends. By that, mainly I mean that I even like the t-sips… there are a few… OK, I can count them on one hand, but I do have them as friends. But our mutual agreement is that we don’t fully acknowledge this friendship in public. Kinda like two Baptists that find themselves staring at each other in aisle 3 of the liquor store. But I digress. In all seriousness though, I love people for who they are. If I perceive someone as a good person, then I engage. If not, I don’t. Do I judge on appearance? Sure… who doesn’t and doesn’t lie about it. If you look like a thug or a tramp, you are likely not going to get my attention. I see eyes and how they feel, I notice physical posturing and have a fairly good attitude radar. I’ve been wrong on occasion, but generally I’m spot on. Let’s just say I’m batting over 750 and below 1000. I steer clear of the disruptive types, especially if in the presence of my loved ones. But I’m not afraid to fight for what’s right or to defend my loved ones and my property.
My sister and I grew up in very small towns in a rather frugal environment. Having said that, we had everything we needed. We didn’t struggle as kids. My father worked hard and saved along the way. His determination, as I see it now, was to put us in a better position with each move we made… and we made a few. My parents and my grandparents taught us respect and gave us some perspective of value by treating us as valuable. I had lots of friends in school, many that weren’t the same skin color as me. I didn’t think of it in that way then. I still don’t think of it that way about them now. They were just kids too.
So when I hear the R word tossed around like a beach ball at a rock concert, I get torn emotionally about what’s going on in this country. I have my own theory of how we got from “doing pretty good” as a country to “don’t make eye contact”. I look on Facebook and see friends I have had since grade school (that’s “elementary” for you millennials) all the way to friends I’ve made as recent at this week. Good folks just trying to get along and make a living.
I’m sad about the situation, but am also determined not to get stuck on it, either. Some just like to whine and bemoan the things they don’t have. Their glass is half empty… and likely will never be full. There are those who think the world owes them something for existing, or for payback of some unclear injustice done to them or their family. To these I say, I hope you find peace in your heart someday. In the mean time, it might be a good idea to move forward along the trail of life. Successful people seem to move on rather quickly and find peace in what they are doing for themselves and their family. But everyone has that choice. Not just the seemingly successful people. If given the chance, the motivation and the tools, anyone can be a success in however you like to measure success.
So, tomorrow when I comment, “You’re a racist” on your post or tweet, just smile and think about how truly weird I am for taking the time to troll your account. Also know that I think you are a special person and I looked way beyond your skin color to make that determination.
