In America, the word freedom is counterfeit kindness, because we can talk the talk better than anyone in the world. Who doesn’t know Americans are free? Meanwhile, you’re trapped as a minority or when you’re poor. You cannot fix your minority status with money in all cases. In the words of Chris Rock, “Clarence Thomas in a jogging suit can’t even get a cab in DC.” The horrible thing is that Clarence Thomas doesn’t have a problem with this. He does not want to show anything about him that makes him different. He wants to be the white, cis, straight, male ideal by dismantling all the racial protections around him, and he’s been bitter about Affirmative Action since college, because no one treated him like he got into school on his own merit.
I am FURIOUS at Thomas because of this, but I also cannot place blame on him, either. Wanting to uphold the system is borne of ENORMOUS pain. Just enormous. Just imagine it. “You’re not that smart. You’re only here because you’re black.” Jesus H. Christ on a pogo stick you have GOT to be kidding me. White people fucked him up long before he graduated from college. It’s hard to imagine Thomas as a kid, but if you stand in that pain and really feel it, you can see why he’s such a mess today. Clarence Thomas didn’t go crazy all by himself. White people helped tremendously. If you cannot understand why that dude is COMPLETELY messed up, it’s because he’s trying to uphold a system not built for him AND saying that it doesn’t have to change because it was good enough to make him a Supreme Court judge. It’s the equivalent of being spanked.
You don’t realize as a child when you’re being spanked that it sets up how you’re going to treat other children for life……….. If you don’t go to a MOUNTAIN of therapy. As in, if you were spanked as a child, you probably think it’s okay to hit your kids, too. I mean, you turned out all right, right? The last time my mother spanked me was when I realized being hit was bullshit and I was bigger than her. I didn’t hit her back, or strike first. I was just strong enough to wriggle out of her grasp. My father spanked me, too, but that’s only when I was really little. As I got older and he could reason with me, this changed to deep discussions about behavior and consequences. Neither of them spanked me again. But was it abnormal of them? Of course not. It was like, 1981 or something. Different times, different prevailing attitude on discipline from experts.
Corporal punishment is the only institutional pain I can think of that transcends race and money. In Texas, my favorite way this is expressed is “boy, I am gon’ slap the white right off if you don’t behave.” I would never say that to a child now, but I heard it in the grocery store growing up…… Therefore, if the prevailing attitudes toward corporal punishment hadn’t changed and I’d become a parent, I probably would have spanked my kids, too. It didn’t start with me, it wouldn’t end with me. Culture changed around me.
And that’s what’s happening now. The institutional cycle of parents and children learning what it’s like to punish and be punished is something universal that just might explain the pain of institutional racism to white people. What white people don’t realize is that their hate toward minorities teaches minorities how to act amongst themselves. It takes a mountain of work to have self esteem when minorities just aren’t as good as white people and homosexuality is a sin and trans people don’t exist.
What is your favorite holiday? Why is it your favorite?
I did do this prompt last year, but it’s still in my “Drafts” folder. Therefore, I actually get to answer today’s prompt like it’s a real writing prompt day. And yet, I have the same answer- Fourth of July is my favorite holiday because all I like to do on holidays is sit around with beer and talk to people. It doesn’t matter what kind of beer. Right now, I have two favorites. Hare Chaser Grapefruit IPA by Flying Dog and Chelada Nada by Athletic.
Athletic is an N/A beer company, so all of their brews have the same amount of calories as a Coke or less…. and they go hard. You cannot imagine that lime, black pepper, and tomato will perfectly replace the acidic burn of alcohol and then it happens.It’s perfect. I love Athletic because I am more interested in flavors than alcohol. I do not have to feel bad about wanting to try nine of them. I am not the only person in Zac’s house that likes Athletic, so he’s always well-stocked. He also has every single N/A spirit one can find, and my favorite joke right now is that when we were watching “Slow Horses,” I drank a GLASS of whiskey. 😉 I can’t remember what else was in it, I just remember being delighted that I did not have to be judicious with the pour. It’s a mixologists’ wonderland, these N/A spirits, because then I can spend all night experimenting and wake up with no ill-effects from the night before. It’s also good to know that I can make ANYONE an amazing cocktail regardless of their background with alcohol. That’s because I can do just as much with juice, soda water, and citrus garnish. If the person does not have a zero tolerance on alcohol, that opens up being able to use bitters, which make fruit juice and soda water grow up in a major way. I am sure, though, that many companies make nonalcoholic bitters just for this purpose. I need to get some, but right now I’m in love with Angostura, as it makes ginger ale taste like root beer, and Sprite/7-Up taste like ginger ale. If you go to a restaurant that does not have ginger ale and you order a cocktail that has ginger ale in it, it’s a reproduction behind the scenes.
Which reminds me. I have never made a Moscow Mule out of Reed’s Extra Hot, so I should get on that at some point.
This is the kind of conversation I’d be having at a Fourth of July Party before we go to the river. And it’s a propos that Fourth of July has come up today, because I cannot remember a Fourth of July in Portland without her. It’s not that it hasn’t happened. It’s that Fourth of July without Bryn is not memorable in any way.
Bryn, like the rest of my close friends, isn’t a person. She’s an event. When I see her, I don’t just see what is happening now, but all the iterations of her person that have come before this one. I see Bryn at every age, from little kid til now. What I also have to remember is that I would look like a little kid to myself at that age, too. I was 19, which is five years older than Bryn, but at 46 we both look like infants.
That’s because we had a mutual friend that held a Fourth of July Party every year, so we’d either meet up at their house or she’d eventually wander over to my apartment with Dana, which was across the highway (26) from said mutual friend. Or, as I joked with them, “you live on the side of Powell with the Starbucks and without the strip club. I live on the side of Powell without the Starbucks and with the strip club.” Who got the better deal is anyone’s guess, because I got to go to a bar and walk home at night. In the morning, she got to walk to Starbucks in her pajamas and beg them for milk. It all worked out.
My apartment became the Introvert Recharging Station, and said mutual friend was not very gracious about it. She did not like that people came to my house to get away from all the stimulation, and there was a lot of it. Conversation, live music, all of it. It was a lot, and it never occurred to me that she would be jealous. It’s not something we would have discussed, just a rumor I heard over the years from the people that came to my house.
In my own mind, it was not that way at all. I did the same thing when I was young at my grandparents’ house. They didn’t live very far from each other, so when I got bored at one house, I went to the other. Neither grandmother worried about me because they knew I’d be back. To me, everyone wandered in and out as they were comfortable, even me. It was never a divide and conquer, but that’s how she took it.
I am not manipulative by nature and do not realize when a game is afoot. Therefore, if there was any kind of game, I won by not realizing it was going on. People did not come to my house and stay for the whole evening. When things got boring at my house, they wandered back over to hers. I didn’t “steal” any of her friends, I took care of her introverts while they were overwhelmed and overstimulated. But, she was mad, because they were HER introverts.
Never mind that I was also one of her introverts, supposedly.
Besides, when she was having a party, I did not also, in turn, decide that I was having a party. If someone wanted to recharge at our house, it didn’t matter what we feed them or what we drank. The only time I remember Dana and I breaking this rule was a private conversation between us that we had with our eyes. One of her friends told us that he was HIV positive, and we looked at each other. All of the sudden, Dana’s most valuable bottle of wine meant shit and I knew that’s exactly what she was saying to me and I was saying, “you’re right. Get it out here.”
Thank you to Lynn, Jane, and Michael for introducing “Open That Bottle of Wine Day,” on “The Splendid Table,” or else it would not have occurred to either of us that these kinds of days are just what Jane and Michael meant. The announcement of HIV was a reminder to DO IT NOW.
It’s probably 15-20 years since that happened, and I remember it like it was yesterday, so it was worth it.
But that’s just one memorable fourth of July out of 14 or 15 that I celebrated in Portland. Most of what I remember is shivering next to the river watching the fireworks…… Which I do like sitting by the river in DC, because it’s not as cold in the summer. Portland has great weather for fireworks, usually, because the rain clears up. You must still need blankets to keep warm.
It’s best that you go with people you really like, because as it gets colder you won’t want so much personal space. It’s about shivering in groups.
What makes it my favorite holiday is that everyone is relaxed and no one has an expectation of getting a gift. It’s a stone soup holiday, where everything that everyone brings makes it better. Each person has a different type of hot dog/sausage/veggie patty, etc. Each person has that side that makes them comfortable (and I will search out the person that made deviled eggs). We all like ice lollies in red, white, and blue.
My favorite is where the white and blue meet- raspberry lemon. For my overseas readers, it’s called a “bomb pop,” and is stacked with red, white, and blue. The red is generally cherry, and I’ve mentioned that lemon is white. However, in other countries, raspberry would be a darker red, and in the US “blue raspberry” is dominant because we are crazy about artificial coloring and the rest of the world is not….. Mostly because their governments are smart and have outlawed them.
I have found energy drinks that are clear with that same raspberry lemon flavor and they’re just as good as the ice lolly. C4 makes the best, but I can’t remember what they call it. If it were me, it would be something cheesy having to do with freedom, because of the drink’s origin.
Plus, nothing was funnier back in the day to me than “Freedom Fries.”
Why wouldn’t it be? Fourth of July is my favorite holiday.
Stories That Are All True 