Thursday, March 31, 2005
The Dream Realized
Years ago in Montgomery, Alabama, Rosa Parks struck a blow for the civil rights movement by refusing to move to the back of the bus.
Thanks to that simple gesture, whites, blacks, Hispanics, and Asians nationwide can sit wherever they want to on the bus so long as they get to the seat first.
Thus I'm exposed to crazy people of all races.
Like the black girl with a slew of Mylar Easter balloons three weeks too soon, who bobs her head as though to music, though she's wearing no headphones, and who yells, "Bitch!" occasionally for no discernable reason at no one in particular.
Except, you know, she sat at the back of the bus -- by choice. And I sat at the front of the bus -- by choice.
Didn't matter. I could still hear her screaming, "This bus trip is taking too long! We better hurry up or my balloons will be all popped by the time I get there!"
Ah, equality.
The other day at the North Lamar Transfer Center, I made eye contact with an older Hispanic fellow.
"How's it going?" I said.
"Alright. How are you?" he replied.
"Pretty good."
"Tsk," he said, nodding in the direction of a chubby young black man with stick straight hair sitting on the bench. I couldn't help but agree the guy was a little odd-looking.
"Yeah, what's his deal?" I said, in the spirit of weirdo-watching camaraderie.
"He's a fucking faggot!"
And that's when I realized that Martin Luther King's vision, his dream, had been realized. That a white man and a Mexican man could come together in racial harmony in common hatred of the homosexuals. That we now live in an age where we are judged not by the color of our skin, but by which hole we use.
Thanks to that simple gesture, whites, blacks, Hispanics, and Asians nationwide can sit wherever they want to on the bus so long as they get to the seat first.
Thus I'm exposed to crazy people of all races.
Like the black girl with a slew of Mylar Easter balloons three weeks too soon, who bobs her head as though to music, though she's wearing no headphones, and who yells, "Bitch!" occasionally for no discernable reason at no one in particular.
Except, you know, she sat at the back of the bus -- by choice. And I sat at the front of the bus -- by choice.
Didn't matter. I could still hear her screaming, "This bus trip is taking too long! We better hurry up or my balloons will be all popped by the time I get there!"
Ah, equality.
The other day at the North Lamar Transfer Center, I made eye contact with an older Hispanic fellow.
"How's it going?" I said.
"Alright. How are you?" he replied.
"Pretty good."
"Tsk," he said, nodding in the direction of a chubby young black man with stick straight hair sitting on the bench. I couldn't help but agree the guy was a little odd-looking.
"Yeah, what's his deal?" I said, in the spirit of weirdo-watching camaraderie.
"He's a fucking faggot!"
And that's when I realized that Martin Luther King's vision, his dream, had been realized. That a white man and a Mexican man could come together in racial harmony in common hatred of the homosexuals. That we now live in an age where we are judged not by the color of our skin, but by which hole we use.
// posted by Todd @ 3:02 PM 
