I grew up a small-town boy, living in Northern Michigan. Winters were cold and long.
My high school was small. Just today I was trying to remember if there were any black kids. …Not that it matters. I was raised well, and never had racial hatred anywhere around me.
Later in life, I was around more people of color. I bought and sold dope with black dope-boys. For a while, I ran a crew of construction workers who were all black.
Then the time I didn’t pay a speeding ticket… Bastards suspended my license. I went to get it reinstated and asked out the girl behind the counter – dated her nearly two months. She was black. Now prison….
My friend Mack can tell you his side of things. However, prison was the first place I saw racial hatred in a big way. White guys walking around with swastikas tattooed on their bald heads… Ugly shit like that.
Prison is probably 70% black. I would say 90% of my buddies are black. You will never find a swastika on me, and don’t try me with that racist shit. Doesn’t matter what color you are, if you are racist, then we don’t see eye to eye. Racism goes both ways. Some white people don’t like people who are black, and some people who are black don’t like whites.
If we’re gonna be technical, then I live in the hood. Don’t bother me. It’s the black guys who taught me to fight, they have my back, and are even teaching this white boy how to dance.
My best friend married a woman who is black, so she must have taught him a thing or two as well. This is life, people. Times change. Unfortunately, hate runs deep. Something my friend has to face even in the free world. Well, fuck ‘em, home-boy.
You know what? When you remove those racial lines, we have a blast. You should hear the way we talk. The other day, a buddy came to me and asked if he could borrow a couple bucks from me. I didn’t have it. He said, “I know… it’s cause I’m black.” Then we both laugh. It has nothing to do with that, and we use the black/white thing as a joke. Some people are really unsure of the whole thing.
They fed us watermelon and fried chicken for our 4th of July meal. A friend asked if I was going to eat my watermelon and I said, “Yes! White people like watermelon and fried chicken too!”
(Who doesn't??)
...Matter of fact, this white boy loves collard greens. I also like deep bass, whether it’s at home or in my car. Cars with big rims make me smile. A few of my cars had big rims. I’ve been known to wear a wife-beater, though I’m not a fan of that name (but that’s another topic altogether).
I also like my Nikes, Air Force Ones, and love a chick wearing Apple Bottom Jeans to cover that junk in her trunk. I’m definitely not a boob-man, I’m an “ass man” all the way.
(heh. Ass man.)
At the ripe age of 16, I bought one of many cars I drove during high school. It was a Chevy S-10 pick-up truck. Dare I say the truck came with a tape-deck? Yeah, and keep your jokes to yourself. Because in that tape-deck was stuck a tape that changed my life: Eazy-E.
(Oh goodness...)
So at 16, I was riding around in my S-10 “whip” singing about Cruisin’ down the street in my 6-4, jockin’ the bitches, slappin the hos.
Yeah, I was straight gangster. My best friend was the same way. He drove an El Camino with two 15” subwoofers behind the seat. We rolled around town, smoking blunts and chillin with Snoop-Dog and Dr. Dre. We drank beer from 40-ounce bottles that we called exactly that – 40s.
(hardy-har)
It really doesn’t surprise me at all that my boy would grow up and fall in love with a woman of color. I haven’t had the honor of meeting her yet, but look forward to the opportunity. First I got to do this hot minute the po-po’ jammed me up with. But I’ll be back – tru dat!
Hey Paulie, have N.W.A. and a 40 on ice ready. ‘Cause we’re gonna roll out once again, for old time’s sake. Keep it real home-boys and girls!
-The Hooligan
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