Tag Archives: Dallas Texas

Dallas

Dallas: (n) a city in NE Texas.

If you want to lose your prejudice, travel.

I dare say it is impossible to refrain from some sort of stereotyping of other individuals and races as long as you remain in one locale, or only scuttle about a hundred miles or so.

Although you may try to be open-minded, black people seem ridiculous when you’re only around white people. And white people all look like slave owners when you are living in an urban area, surrounded by your identical color.

Travel is an amazing thing.  You immediately see two lies played out:

  1. People are different
  2. A region can reflect an attitude

In both cases, it’s just not so.

Although the South touts hospitality, it is only dribbled out based upon whether the Southern lass or gent deem you to fall into the realm of normalcy.

And people being people—possessing biological, mental, spiritual and emotional propensities—generally speaking ooze out favored sentiments.

The first time I went to Dallas, Texas, I was expecting cowboys, Southern jargon, big, thick steaks and beautiful women adorned with pumped-up hair and large smiles.

Don’t get me wrong—these are available.

The Chamber of Commerce, the churches and the politicians make sure they have representatives of this style of Dallas on call for the tourists.

But when you step a little deeper into the community, you find human beings. Most of these souls don’t have enough security, finance or agenda to be hateful or loving.

They’re just doing the best they can.

So these folks are not different at all and feel no compulsion to reflect the attitude of Dallas or any other metroplex they might need to represent.

Bigotry is kept alive by business, religion, politics and entertainment wishing to keep us separate.

We have certainly learned this year that when the same problems are thrown at people who are supposed to be different, those who survive stumble upon mutual solutions.

Break-dancing

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Break-dancing: (n) an energetic and acrobatic style of street dancing, developed by American blacks

When my son was nine years old, he was controlled and swallowed by an obsession with Michael Jackson.Dictionary B

It included the need to wear a single glove, and to have both the black leather and red leather coats that Mr. Jackson wore during his videos for the “Thriller” album.

It also came with a sudden desire to dance. Not only was my son completely possessed by the spirit of the “moonwalk,” but he also became infatuated with break-dancing.

Now, this particular form of entertainment did not get its name because things are broken–even though, when you watch it performed, you might assume that was the reason. No, it got its name because in the midst of a routine, the dancer will occasionaly go into free-style improvisation, called “breaking out.”

So not only was my white boy mysteriously overtaken by the spirit of a black pop icon, but he also believed himself to be a street performer who lived near the projects.

One day, in Dallas, Texas, he found out there was a contest being held at a local club, to discover who the best break dancer was in a 25-mile radius (or whoever could afford the five dollar entry fee).

My son cajoled, begged and made promises to do chores–pleading with me to take him to participate in the contest.

I relented.

So he donned his single glove, white pants and vest he had purchased, and a head band, and we headed off for him to compete with his peers.

This probably will not surprise you, but my “Caucasian cutie” had absolutely no chance among those who were more geographically originated to the entertainment source.

He tried.

He spun on his head, fell over two or three times, slipped, slid and danced his way–in a charming sort of manner–producing great glee amongst the audience, which was a bit discriminating in its appreciation level.

Here’s the beautiful thing: he thought he did great.

I did not have to comfort him.

He did not care that he didn’t win.

He was so thrilled that he competed, that to this day, I have never heard him say a negative thing about the experience.

It is so wonderful when people suck … and they’re so oblivious that you don’t have to tell them.

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