For Every Action...

...there is an equal and opposite reaction. Ain't it so.

One of my heroes in my youth was Arthur Ashe. He seemed to be down with us whiteys. He didn't exploit the fact that he was black, he didn't raise social issues, initially. And he was low key. At the beginning. Then he turned somewhat radical, in the sense that he grew an afro, spoke out about apartheid and took up black causes. I was all for it. He was a good spokesman for the black community and an advocate for the plights that affected them.

But some black leaders at the time were calling him a disgrace to the race because he wouldn't spew venom about how the "whiteys" were keeping the blacks down. That wasn't his style, which is why I admired him. He died way too young, and would have been a good catalyst for the recent uproar about Imus. He wouldn't have tolerated the lynching that Sharpton and Jackson instigated.

I also had a black roommate when I was in college. Never bothered my ass. We'd go out and have a few beers, stay up late and talk about shit. Of course, he was frustrated by the perceptions people had of him, but we'd go workout, or run, and I tried to convince him that one day it would change.

I have no idea where he is today, but I am ashamed tonight to admit that I am now a racist. All because of people like Sharpton. The way the whole Imus thing went down, the way people abandoned him, the way people like Harold Ford scooted when times were tough. It sickens me.

So what does this have to do with handicapped parking, you might ask? I went to deposit my check after work tonight at my bank, which is in a Harris Teeter, and there is one handicapped parking space in the whole lot, which encompasses many shops. Out steps an apparently agile women, no gimp, no limp, no missing appendages and not a care in the world as she struck up a conversation with someone. And it was at that point in time that I came to despise black people. They think just because they're black that they can do as they please. This thing has to work both ways. She came into the bank where I was depositing my meager sums and I asked her why she parked in the handicapped spot since she didn't seem to have a problem. She said it was her mother's car. I wanted to axe her why she didn't walk her fat black ass a few hundred feet.

Nuff said...