Arcane. Acerbic. Hyperbolic. These are the words that could describe me. If you don’t know what they mean: Look ‘em up, dummy. You could also choose a few choice curses and female animals, but I wouldn’t if I were you. I’d keep it nice. But if you feel the need to say something rude or crude: a pox on your house. (Always wanted to use that on someone, I feel absurdly elated I could squeeze it in somewhere.)
Another way to describe me is brutally honest. I’ve never bit my tongue or held anything back. Of course, this has helped and hurt me over the years. A couple of years ago I decided not to participate in the secrets black people keep from white society (think about most of the things Chris Rock says). I will not continue to defend positions just because that’s the party line. Criminal activity in any form is wrong. The NBA is not an alternative for college. A lot of rap is stoopid, low, crass, and misogynist. Not all police officers are bad. I could go on, but you get the picture. The problem with my attitude is when you say things similar to that you get labeled. But I never cared for labels, plus I don’t care if I step on toes.
And to all who seem to care: I am not looking for a good Black man in Louisville. I’m looking for GOOD man regardless of race in the vicinity. Life’s too short to limit yourself to just black men. (Hint: all you professional guys have a chance, especially all you doctors.)
HINT: Self-deprecation, insecurity, and feeling of neglect are very unattractive.
Listening to Citizen Cope: The Clarence Greenwood Recordings.
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