Wednesday, January 6, 2016


( This Post, and comments appeared on my Face Book page a few daze ago. It's a fun romp through the realities of my life in the "Racist States of America". )

( The historically mostly accurate humorous comments are from myself, and a dear pal from my many centuries in Public Radio. "Tom" Though a Pacifist he was for several thousand years the radio station's "Military Affairs Analysts". Yep no liberal commie radio station should without one,...and 'we' weren't! )

Here goes...

""Caution Pity Party Zone Ahead."

 Aw gee I'm so tired of having to play this ridiculous role.

"The Black Guy"

As I say I just wanna be some guy minding his own damned business walking along chewing gum.
Ya know it's like being an actor trapped in a role. For ya whole damned life you're 'that' stupid character.

Everywhere ya go folks call out hey "...." fill in the blank.

You can never be just a person. You walk into a room, and a whole history of twisted assumptions walks in with you. I walk down a street, and I hear the locks of car doors click...thinking since I'm a Colored guy I'm gonna car-jack the moron.

People won't get on the elevator if they see me.

One cab nearly ran me over so quick was he to get away from letting me in...really happened not once, but several times over the years. Haven't been in a cab without a white friend in years.

On the up side,....hum. I'll have to get back to you on that one.

"You are now Leaving the Pity Party Zone",...have a nice day.

"The even more interesting Comments"

 Sidney Smith:  I'm sorry it just boiled up. Usually like most I just live with it. "We now re-join "Uncle Sidney" who is already in progress."

Tom Wisker:  I remember quite a number of times when we went out for dinner. This from the old 505 35th Street studios We walked down 8th Av to the restaurant strip. I totally remember the sound of the car door locks thumping. We switched positions, with me (white, portly, limping, non threatening) closer to the curb.

No difference. Thump. Clunk. Click. They locked their car doors. 

Now, I know that you are the Grand Panjandrum of Mystic Power for the East Coast, but these other people did not know and were reacting on their programming. 

You could have vaporized them with a momentary glare. Except for those first two total assholes in their cars, you granted forbearance and did not vaporize the rest. The girlfriends of the two vanished assholes seemed relieved at their non- presence. 

Then there was the time most of the MBS crew walked down 8th Av to a Cuban place around 18th St. It had good reviews. Formica tables. 

I always paid attention to Barbara, sick as I was with lust. I always walked behind her so I could admire her from that angle. 

AHEM. Off track. 

Anyway, we piled into the restaurant. It was Barbara whose eyes went wide reading the racist copy on the place-mats. It stated that the black population of Cuba was minimal, and that their influence was minimal. It went on from there. 

Then there was the nude beach on eastern L.I. where you grabbed a camera out of my hands and covered it with your sun hat. I had no intention of taking photos of our fellow "MBS" sunbathers, but you were right in assuming that it would be misconstrued.

 Sidney Smith:  Misconstrued yes. 

Cameras on nude beaches are a touchy affair...ahem. Regards dear Barbara I too was quite ill with confused lust. Queer tho' I was, and am. She loved me as a brother, and I as she was my incest thrown into this messy confused emotional stew! 'Oh' what a time we all had. 

One of our crew needs to write a book! 

As for that restaurant I don't remember if it was a Cuban place, that fact lost in the mists of centuries, but I remember racist place mats.  We were stunned indeed...and left for Chinatown. They're just as racist in their way, but to 'EVERYBODY' equally.

"Grand Panjandrum of Mystic Power for the East Coast". Tom I really like that title. I'm having t-shirts made you'll get your usual 28% as dear pal, and creative consultant.

(  Addendum. )  

Sidney SmithBtw' Tom remember my rant on 28th street that time like now when I'd just had enough of all the mean racist crap? I said w/scenery devouring drama. I'm a ham even, and especially when pissed. With bared teeth, and bugging eyes I yelled "...if these fuckers really think I'm a Mugger I might as well Mug them!!". 

Again this declared rather 'loudly' in the middle of a street full of racist paranoid white people in 1982. I began moving in a threatening manner looking for my first victim. 

Paul Wunder, well known wild card, and neat film critic, acting quickly to prevent me from getting shot said "...It's alright folks he's an actor this is a rehearsal!" 

To which we all broke out laughing. 

This prevented me from ending up on the front page of that journal of note, see above, the "Post". 'almost' "New York Post" Front Page Headline ca. 1982.

"Deranged Negro Shot 200 Times, Accident" ( pages 3/4! Jacko Stunned!)

That would have been my epitaph. My Message to Eternity. Eh, could do worse. 

Stay Tuned.


  1. Yep, that does sound like a major drag.

    Long ago - maybe early 90s - I was walking solo by night down a lonely stretch of SFO's Market Street. From the other way came The Black Guy. He was a big guy. I must have looked pretty scared, because as we drew near I could see that his expression seemed irritated. At the exact moment we passed, he spoke. "Boo!," he said.

    I guess this means I'm sort of like those assholes who lock their car doors. I hang my head in shame and grovel in humility, and promise to go shopping for a suit of sack cloth and ashes just as soon as I can afford to.

    BTW, I tried to post this story a few threads down, but Blobr ate my text.


  2. This site is a piece of crap. Plenty of folks...all 4 of you have said the same. In fact when I'm too lazy to sign in, and post as Anon. now. I get the same man.

    sorry for the troubles Blogsnot throw ya way.

    As for the ashes...hey it's cool. I've calmed down, and i do understand the shit. As my pal Tom said "...they're reacting to their programming".

    'And they are.

    Like I sez I can't wait for the 38th century when we all get a handle on this stuff.


  3. Check this out:

    Wait until you see red silk.


  4. Here's another:


  5. HOLY BLEEP!!!

    Does he do Barmitzvas?

  6. He does weddings. So when you & Charlie get hitched, we'll see what can be arranged.