Making sure the bills were paid. Paying attention to the II and the lovely wife and both grandmas. Breadwinning. That kind of isht.
But certain things stir me from kicking it into coast.
First, there's this Obama thing. Whether he triumphs or trips up on Super Tuesday (get out and vote you lazy good-for-nothings) he and we come out winners somehow. Right. History's made either way? And the struggle resumes?
You follow me?
To quote, as best as I can, Damian "Jr. Gong" Marley, 'We built like roach-killin' boot...We just can't done.'
So I've got to find some way meaningfully celebrate Black History Month. If only for one day.
I highly doubt it'll be required teaching at the II's pre-Pre-K school. He's "the only spot in the class" as my Dad would so callously say. Two sisters (and a part-time brother) do some good looking out for him; and they always have WLCK-FM (the Jazz of the City) wafting around the room. But things won't get so detailed as the sympolics of the black-gloved salute on the medalists podium at the '68 Olympics.
Black Power, my ass.
What I'd like to do, since the spirit hits me, is pick up this new "African American National Biography" that the black egg heads at Harvard just compiled by narrowing some 12,000 characters down to 4,000 enttries written 1,500 words or less.
That's something me and the II could bond with; decipering chapter by chapter.
But the list price for the boxed-set sucker is $995.
Maybe if I get a decent tax return, or one of those nice panic/tax refund checks. Or hit a fat scratch-off lick.
This all to beg the question: how would/could/should you honor our history, ideally? Who would you urge your son(s) to read up on and/or emulate?
For me, personally, it's Marcus Garvey personna and oratory. Maybe, for you, it's Sherman Helmsley.
Regardless. Please respond in 28 words.
Or less.
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