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loose one; she spent several decades in attempts to beat me down.
Why I’d feel some love for her unimaginable. She even tried to kill me a couple of times.

Do I love her? I try. Sometimes convince myself I do.

I like pro football more than I like college football. It’s her fault, her meanness.

I do like college football, but.

But I remember attending and hosting football parties, each person there rooted for the flagship college or university teams in their state.

I did not. I could not. I, born in Alabama, could not root for University of Alabama, or Auburn. I did root for Alabama A & M, but it was only regionally known then, rarely mentioned on national radio or television.

Black folk born in Michigan could root for their state team, so also New Yorkers rooted for theirs, so on, but I sat to watch the games and could not root.

Games in which Alabama played someone, I watched, could not root for Alabama. My friends, black and white, who knew the state of my birth remained silent about it. Those who didn’t know, asked, then knew, added to the silence.

Even now Alabama and Auburn remain not my favorite college teams. Only now they’re included, but Alabama A&M and several teams in other states come before.

Alabama the premier college team in my state falls below several teams state and private in other states.

The name Crimson Tide reminds me of the blood of some of my ancestors, some of the ancestors of other black folk, some white folk spilled while others did not interfere.

I know that Crimson Tide to white folk hereabouts dont have that association.

They dont share my associations which drench the flag of the Confederacy.

And most dont care.

Segregation and the violence and persecution which existed not only attacked the major features of my life; it attacked the minutia, the small daily pleasures others enjoyed, black and white, in other states.

I belonged to a group of more enlightened kids in north who were from Alabama, no dirt farmers among us. Some had last names you’d recognize, they, we left Alabama because we were black, and couldn’t stand it, white, and couldn’t stand it, gay, well, they suffered most, still do because as some racial tensions subside what you get is meld of black and white homophobes.

Add to the mix folk who could have passed, born white, but had the misfortune to turn out humane, kind, and differed in many good ways from most Alabamans.

Fifty, almost fifty of my 71 years I spent away from Alabama, only returned to care for my mother in her last days alive. I had to stay because of  a house I dislike.

I can’t say I like most folk in Alabama; they vote against their own self interest.

I grew up in segregated Alabama. Never met my biological grandpa on father’s side; he died in an ambulance rushing to Chattanooga. No hospitals in my county took black patients, even through the back door.

Grandpa died from appendicitis.

Alabama owes me a grandpa. Pray all your might you can’t well, shite.

I can handle racism. Somehow. What I can’t handle is stupid. Okay,some racism benefits some white folk. That’s not that stupid for them, but it does nothing for the majority of white folk.

They vote race not for self interest. You can erode racist attitudes over time, but stupid seems almost hardwired in the brains of too many.

Stupid scares me shitless.

They support the wishes, desires, and interests of rich white folk,these poor white folk. They cheer on a black football player at Auburn or Alabama, yet murmur racial tropes at the black president.

One of my best friends now, white, I never met down here because of segregation; we met in a bar in Greenwich Village, two expatriate artists, had to meet in a freaking northern bar.

Another of the minor bitterness born in Alabama racism.

Then I figure that most whites in Alabama are reflexively racist, they dont think it, it’s just there from a social landscape imbued with it. They have black friends, yeah, yet still vote racist politician into office.

Some even mimic racists, they take on the attitudinal stances of folk around and near them.

To end this end of year ramble what give me hope for change, one I dont know that I like it; it’s mean spirited, murderous, and dangerous if it’s a real spontaneous beginning of a movement.

I saw the movie Django Unchained and every time Jamie Foxx’s character killed a white person a group of young whites downstairs cheered. I wrote a post at - hope I got the title right - “Old white folk your grandchildren may want to kill you.”

I silently cheer them on in my memory of the event, sometimes, then remember teachings of grands, and parents.

I am old, few years left probably, but younger blacks, whites, Asians, Latinos, and women will live longer, remember what some old folk did, mostly Republicans I guess, may feel the temptation to do to them what was done by them.

The emerging new majority nationally may scrap the Constitution and do good things in evil ways.

Instead of joining in, I warn, I say, change your evil ways old white, some young too, folk.  You teach the new national majority your old way.

I heard this on the corner of Seventh Avenue and 12th Street, Manhattan, “Alabama gets more money than they send to the Federal government. They call us on the dole. We have to do...”

I was walking away, heard no more from them.

Happy new year.

(There's a dont should be doesnt, but I lack patience today. When you see it put doesnt in its place.)


Alabama deserves to sink into the Gulf.

53%7 votes
30%4 votes
15%2 votes

| 13 votes | Vote | Results

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Comment Preferences

  •  Interesting stream of (4+ / 0-)
    Recommended by:
    marykk, marina, thomask, Oh Mary Oh

    consciousness. I do think that younger generations are less tainted by racism but it will take awhile to bleed it out of our national system.

    We just plain don't know what the future holds, I hope it is better than today.

    No on your poll. Every state has good and bad, let's try to expand on teh good and let the bad die off.

    And daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County Down by the Green River where Paradise lay. Well, I'm sorry my son, but you're too late in asking Mister Peabody's coal train has hauled it away. John Prine

    by high uintas on Wed Jan 01, 2014 at 10:28:48 AM PST

  •  "stream of consciousness" doesn't really do (3+ / 0-)

    justice to the power of raw unfiltered and unrefined voice that speaks here.

    Saint satin stain, you come back, y' hear?

    My father and grandfather were born in Alabama but I never knew either man and have never been within a thousand miles of Alabama. I never saw my father after I was 5 years old.  

    My grandfather was an individual of such stature that his will was probated in Mobile in 1977 and whoever handled his affairs took care to dot all the i s and cross the t s by getting a copy of the probated will to me somehow.
    I never met the man, did  not even know his name, until then; I was acknowledged as his legitimate descendant, but left nothing.  It all went to his housekeeper, who cared for him through to the end.

    I would dearly love to humanize this unknown ancestor by having a story about how this housekeeper was his secret Black wife, or daughter, and that they shared a forbidden love that transcended their times.  But that would most likely be fiction, afaik, and it could be just as possible that his great-grandfather owned yours.

    Somehow that line found it's way north to intersect with my mother's  line that got off a boat in NYC  in 1935.  See what happens when you get people thinking and remembering?

    Thanks for sharing.

    don't always believe what you think

    by claude on Wed Jan 01, 2014 at 11:31:07 AM PST

    •  I agree claude (1+ / 0-)
      Recommended by:

      I hadn't been up long and was reaching for words. It read like I was in sss's head, listening to thoughts. I really liked what I read, and just realized I need to rec. doh

      And daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg County Down by the Green River where Paradise lay. Well, I'm sorry my son, but you're too late in asking Mister Peabody's coal train has hauled it away. John Prine

      by high uintas on Wed Jan 01, 2014 at 11:52:13 AM PST

      [ Parent ]

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