When last I left you, I was talking about my sister’s blog in a roundabout way. So now I return to address a subject about which she recently wrote on her blog, that subject being me, in which she has brought reproach upon my good character. I offer this as my return volley, my public tete-a-tete to you, Sister, if you will.
My sister wrote this ramble on her blog about me thinking she was eating pot.
- For the record, I didn’t think she was eating pot.
I was being sarcastic. Sort of like her husband doesn’t understand the word rhetorical, she doesn’t understand the word sarcrastic. I’ll spare you the Merriam-Webster definition of sarcastic (yes, I have to italicize it every time now), by the way, because if you’re reading this or my sister’s blog (sans link this time, how much butt-kissing can I do? – rhetorical question, Sister’s Hubby) and don’t know what the word means, then you’re at the wrong blog.
- For the record, I am neither a racist nor a homophobe.
On the issue of blacks or African-Americans: I would say some of my best friends are black, but I’ll be honest and tell you we live in redneck heaven (or is it hell?), so the number of African-Americans here I can count on one hand. Strange enough, though, the music of choice by many teens in this area is rap.
On the issue of homosexuals: My wife does have a friend from childhood who is gay, who yes, I always say to my sister when talking about her. “Yeah, Barbie (name changed, not because she isn’t out, but to protect confidentiality and all that, and it just seemed like a good name for a lesbian, don’t you agree? couldn’t Barbie have been a lesbian?), Margo’s (again name changed) friend, you know? The lesbian.”
On the issue of Native Americans: I have never liked a team with a name like Indians or Braves or Redskins (shudder to think of it, in fact) and I believe in the cause of Leonard Peltier. And, even though I don’t gamble, if I did, I would definitely spin the roulette wheel at their casinos over the white man’s. The Mafia has enough money as it is.
On the issue of Italian-Americans (now that I stuck my foot in my mouth): I loved The Sopranos, especially the first couple of seasons. For an interesting view on stereotyping in connection with the show, see here, especially if you’re a “noodle-bender.”
- For the record, I was not smoking, eating, snorting, ingesting, mainlining, whatever terms you want to use, marijuana when I was talking with my sister on the phone that night. I only smoked pot once in my life and like my hero Bill, I didn’t inhale.
True story, but that is a story for another blog entry on another day.
