my history

so, today i go to grab lunch and get pounced. not in that happy, fun way. not in that, “give me your wallet” way. almost as bad, though. “dude, where ya goin’? lemme toss in..” so all of a sudden, i’m walking out of the office with a fist full of cash, and coming back carrying one SERIOUSLY heavy bag. for three blocks. kinda reminded me of those sacks of tobacco from my childhood…

i was born the son of black share croppers on a tobacco plantation in north carolina. i didn’t spend much time there,though; when i was about four years old or so, my family could no longer afford me, and sold me to a white couple that was on their way to texas. what they DIDN’T know was that these white folk were a couple of crack heads……

when we got to the lone star state (austin, specifically) their habit started to REALLY kick in (LOTS of drugs in this town, ya know) and they ran out of money fast….so they started selling things. the car. their clothes. the eight track collection (including the bootleg skynyrd one that actually talked about trailer parks as the promised land on the REALLY long version of freebird) the last thing to go? my pigmentation. man, that sucked. sold it to two kids who wanted to go to ut, but had no athletic or academic ability to get in; so then they got in on minority scholarships…

so now i’m white. i still dress fairly black, though. kinda stuck in limbo…like some rap, but next to no r&b. dress the clothes, but don’t date the women. like the chicken and bar b&q. hate greens and ham hocks. hung like a white boy, but have the black rhythm when it’s in use (you KNOW what i’m talking about). can’t decide if it’s the best or worst of both worlds, but either way, it’s all me….so now ya know.