Obama Said Knock You Out

Anyone that's been paying attention on my blog or knows me can tell that I'm about as white (more of a sickly pink actually) as a person can get. I often joke that all the soul I've got resides in the little pinkie on my right hand. Plus, I was reared in Indiana, so I should probably be all ignant about people that don't look or act the same as I do.

Maybe I am and I'm just too dumb to know it, like the old guy at the college party that thinks he's hip because he's heard of the Smashing Pumpkins (yeah, that reference was meant to be dated). But when a little bird told me that a certain person in the public eye, who happens to be African-American, had his blackness questioned, I stopped cold. It's not really important who this person is. The question, is he black enough, is patently absurd (patent pending). I think the more poignant query would be, is this country too white?

Is our thought dominated by the images of the lavish white culture (btw, something of which I have only been able to snatch crumbs). How about the Super bowl: the first African-American coaches to make it to this prestigious sports pinnacle, ever, just made it this year. For as long as I can remember, the teams have been made-up of at least half African-American players.

These are just topical examples. I could care less about football or who does what in it (the problem with football is that it isn't basketball). It just shows-ta-go-ya the 411, as the kids say (do they still say that?). I'm not calling for a revolution or anything. But, I could stand to hear a little more Al Green, and a lot less Brooks & Dunn when I'm flipping the dial.