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Posted in the Missed Connections Section of Craigslist

2008382449 I saw you across the room tonight and wished desperately that we could speak.

When I purchased my ticket for the Equestrian Center charity dinner in Thousand Oaks, I assumed I would eat a handsome dinner, chat with my favorite farrier and see that race horse Johnny Come Nightly gets the imported vitamins he needs to take one more second off his lap time.

I did not think I would see you.

When I arrived, the night seemed to be going as expected. I stepped into the sea of single-hued donors and felt right at home. I chatted with them about their summering plans, complimented them on their argyle and reminisced over how fetching Bibi Neuwirth looked at last week’s Tony Awards.

I felt welcomed, comfortable and settled. And then I saw you.

A flash of darker than expected hair caught my eye as it moved across the room. I looked toward the source of the confusion and saw a lovely cocoa complexion beneath it. At first, my natural and logical assumption was that you must in someway be responsible for the food or cleanup at this event.

But then I saw that you were handed an auction paddle.

I saw you mouth the words “Geffen Center season ticket holder,” and I wanted to know you.

The crowd parted and I saw that you were about the same size and shape as I was, and somehow you wore the cashmere just slightly better. I saw that you knew the game and thought that together we could take it to the next level.

But that is the ultimate Oreo sacrifice. To know each other would both be helpful and antithetical to the cause. And so we could not take the risk.

From where I stood on the other side of the room, I saw you raise your glass slightly and nod as you turned away from me. And I knew what you meant.

Cheers to you, my comrade. Congratulations on the winning bid for the Renaissance-style family portrait. I hope that one day we can meet again. And if it happens to be at an AKA fundraiser, I’ll never tell.

Laws of Attraction

man holding rose The incident with ethnic-affiliated guy from Los Gatos reminded me of the other types of people who tend to be particularly interested in courting Oreos.

Twinkies, Coconuts and other Oreos – Like sobriety or an eating disorder, lifestyles of discipline are hard to maintain on your own. Other Anglo-enthusiasts find each other for support, guidance and bleaching tips.

Hard Core Ethnocentrics – These are black people who have changed their names to African ones and attend Kwanzaa celebrations. HCEs take on Oreos like social workers take on addicts. They think that with enough daishikis, invitations cultural events and reminders that Christ was black, the average Oreo will come back to the dark side.

Conservative Religious Folk – Their lifestyles are all about self-denial, and finding people who are similarly burdened gives their scourge marks merit.

Real Estate Agents – Oreos are great clients. We provide a neighborhood with the look of diversity without the peril.

White People – Thankfully.

A Girl Has Standards

It wasn’t that I was 100% opposed to giving him a chance; I just knew how dangerous it was to do so.

From a distance, he looked like a great fit: striking hazel eyes, longish sandy brown hair made blond by the sun. A mix of surfer and hipster–two fairly fair-skinned fashion choices. An address in The Hills and a family home in Los Gatos – a delightfully homogeneous beach community in Northern California.

While I am not on the prowl in particular, I am also not opposed to the attention of the right young man…especially if he comes with the above characteristics.

But not, however, if he also exhibits the following ones.

Exhibit A: This was how he introduced himself to me: “Yo, not to clown you or anything, but why you kickin’ it in line by yourself?” Broken English with Ebonic tendencies. Hmmmm. But, I thought, it was possible that I could have misheard him, so I talked to him further to fully ascertain his linguistic leanings.

Exhibit B: He was a hip hop dance instructor…for children! How could I tacitly Caution+Tape+1 condone his dangerous indoctrination of youth by continuing the conversation.

But he bought me a drink, so I was willing to give him one more try.

That is, until he presented me with:

Exhibit C: He said he was going to grab a snack at Popeye’s….And he asked me if I wanted anything.

stop_sign Now sure, we had another hour before we were going to be let into the theater.

And sure, my stomach was growling loud enough to be heard for miles.

And sure, Popeye’s was the only food within walking distance.

But c’mon! A girl has to have her standards. One tiny misstep and years of repression will be ruined.

I knew he wasn’t all bad, though. So I introduced him to my (white, natch) friend Analise. She has dreds. And Soujaboy on her iPod.

Mourning the Loss of an Icon

The Oreo Experience laments the loss of a meaningful and important cultural icon: The Grammy for Best Polka Album. grammy_award-300x380

This week, the folks who bring you the Grammy Awards decided to eliminate the award for the best Polka album because the genre is no longer “pertinent in the current musical landscape.”

Hogwash!

PolkaCantDie2 The sweet sounds of accordions and tubas in 6/8 time have comforted me on many and many a cold night. And my pilmgramges to The Great Allentown Fair to see 18-time Polka Grammy Winner Jimmy Sturr have been well worth the unpaid days off of work. And if it’s good enough for They Might Be Giants, Weird Al Yankovich and Frank Wojnarowsk, then by gosh, it’s good enough for the rest of us.

So a tip of the hat, a click of the heels and a slap of the thigh to my fellow Czech music enthusiasts. Know that just because the cultural change makers of the nation no longer acknowledges you, I will never forget.

OW Gets Behind the Gays

I would like to extend my sympathies to the Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transgendered community.

This week, President Obama declared June ’09 to be LGBT month.

I would feel less secure about posting this link from a blog of color which explains the situation further were the author not a Republican.

images I sympathize intensely with the LGBT community. How on earth can a group blend in if they are pointed out?

I remember the horrors of Black History Month. Every February in grade school, I sat and listened to stories of people who were nothing like me while all my classmates stared at me, waiting for a reaction.

Did they not see my Dead Kennedys Trapper Keeper? My Girl Scout merit badge for dressage? My legacy letter from Bryn Mawr?

My life was nothing like The Life of Frederick Douglass. I had never been firehosed or relegated to a specific water fountain, overjoyed at gospel music or in anything less than a top tier academic magnet school.

But these were the only bits of information our textbooks thought necessary to tell about black people. So my peers looked to me with pity and I looked back at them confused and began the journey that has led to this Oreo Experience. (oooh, titular sentence!)

Why was this the case? Because the month made it so.

And now gays will suffer the same. Dedicated months don’t make people understand the intricacies of another people. They make people annoyed and defensive. And they make it much harder to blend in and ultimately disappear into the warm void of acceptance.

Lets the months be seperate but equal and then maybe we can all just get along

Burn Baby, Burn

Slather on the aloe, kids, I did it!

As I type this, the skin on my decolletage is hot to the touch, feels like it is infested with a thousand fire ants and is beginning to blister and peel.

I. Have. Sunburned.

sol01 Sunburning is one part of the Oreo lifestyle that cannot be learned. It must be experienced. While all Oreo hopefuls are able to further their assimilation by taking a class in medieval dress pattern making, renting a kayak for the day or picking up some new tech stocks on eTrade. But a sunburn is a special step.

It’s like a fiery kiss from God saying: “Well done. You’re on your way.”

As a child of color, you are often told that you don’t need to worry about sunscreen because you simply will not burn. This is devastating when trying to blend in. Not only do you tan, which just seems cruel, but you are also left out of conversations about “laying out,” going to tanning salons and recurring freckles.

Thankfully, I defeated the odds.

You may think that the melanoma risk is a hefty price to pay for acceptance. But what’s worse? A relatively treatable medical condition or being considered part of a quota system?

My battle scar did not come easily. It took a drive out of unusually overcast Los Angeles and nearly 8 hours in uncomfortably warm sun to crack the surface. I was sweaty, dehydrated and seeing desert oases where there were none. I wanted to give up, but this lifestyle is a marathon, not a race, so I toughed it out and was rewarded this morning as I rolled over onto my chest and let out a scream of pain that woke my whole building.

When my neighbor came to see if everything was okay, she found me in tears. She tried to comfort me, but there was no need. These were tears of joy at my pain.

Sure it hurts to take a shower or wear shirts, but nothing worth winning was won without suffering.

Now excuse me as I log off. I have a dermatologist’s appointment to schedule and a sheet of peeled skin to hang on my wall next to my other trophies.

Int./Ext. WhitePal’s and OreoWriter’s Cars

WHITEPAL and OREOWRITER drive on two different stretches of highway, chatting via Bluetooth. STATIC can be heard on both ends of the line. Both strain to hear the other.

WP: …I don’t know. I think I sound like a wigger in your blog.

OW: You may have a way with words, not unlike Daniel Webster, but you’re no elitist.

WP: …What?!

OW: You’re no elitist. Definitely not a Whig.

WP: Really? A Whig Party reference?

OW: I could hardly hear you…Now it’s clear…Is “whig” not what you said?

WP: No. I said “wigger.”

OW: Ohhhhh, right…(pause)..wait…like the porch furniture?

Playing it Safe

I went to see an August Wilson play last night. I know what you’re thinking. Nearly buying watermelon last week, now seeing an August Wilson play, am I giving up on the Oreo lifestyle?

Not at all, friends. Like with any one night stand, I took precautions.

I went in the company and at the suggestion of a white friend. Taking someone up on an invitation to an awkward social situation is par for the course for, say, Hampton society, so why not embrace!
Pre show, I took care to keep a bubble of unblack patron between myself and other patrons of color. Sitting next to a black person at a play where themes of racial identity will be discussed would tempt anyone to discuss the shared experience of being a minority in America. Such discussions could lead to empathy for and an embrace of one’s ‘culture’, which clearly derails the hard and necessary work one has done as an Oreo.
As an extra precaution, before the show started, my host and myself engaged in a rousing discussion of comparative literature.

This definitely helped offset the high ratio of color to Caucasian in the theater.

Then during intermission, I realized: this situation was not as dire as I thought! August Wilson was the son of a black woman and a white man. Not just white, German in fact. Upon this realization, I breathed a sigh of relief and enjoyed the rest of the show.

To celebrate, I’ve listed some other things that are not nearly as dangerous as they seem, plus how they can benefit anyone looking to hide from who they are.

Scorpions.
The fake danger: With half a dozen eyes, a crispy exoskeleton, giant pincers and a tail that means business, scorpions are as terrifying looking as a rerun of Tyler Perry’s House of Payne. But it turns out it’s all looks. These tiny horrors are nearly blind and have only a very mild venom. Getting stung by one is only about as harmful as getting stung by a bee.

The Oreo Upshot:
Even better than the fact that scorpions can’t really hurt you is that they are found in places where people of color are not: remote desert campsites, historic Victorian homes and exotic pet stores.

So if you as a person of color do have the fortune to be stung by a scorpion, wear that injury proudly. It shows that you are hanging out where you should be.

Swine Flu
The fake danger: Despite a handful of deaths and promotable nicknames like “Hamthrax” and “Snoutbreak,” the feared 9o5trT Swine flu is not really all that bad. Some experts are saying that it is in fact much less severe than the yearly regular flu outbreaks and the CDC is considering changing the definition of ‘pandemic’ to accommodate the general unseriousness of Swine Flu.

The Oreo Upshot:
Initial Swine Flu cases were coming out of Mexico. Should you come down with fever, chills and diarrhea, just show off your pics from the white sandy beaches of Cancun with the other white sandy patrons and anyone who was afraid of your symptoms will be delighted that they can reminisce with you about how fun it was to have drinks served to them by brown locals whose hovel homes are hidden by the American based hotel chains who give you decent rates by refusing the natives a living wage.

Texting While Driving
The fake danger:
Sure there is an accident or two more now than there were pre iPhone, but the frustration incurred by not answering text messages while avoiding pedestrians on the on ramp is the real danger. Gen Y is accustomed to getting what we want when we want it. Even if we want it while operating a 2,000 pound thing that can kill an innocent on contact.

If we don’t keep our hands at 4 and 8 on our phones and not at 10 and 2 on the wheel, how can we tell our dinner date we’re running late, passively aggressively avoid our parents with a digital birthday greeting or find out if the object of our affection texted us back yet…no? how about now?…Now? NOW?!?

Don’t think of it as creating an accident by being visually distracted, think of it as avoiding the death of our self-esteem, which is way more important than that guy selling roses and oranges by the side of the road who we just grazed.

The Oreo Upshot
Everyone has a cell phone, so that’s not going to make you stand out. But if you can get someone to call you to trigger your Grateful Dead ring tone while the cops are finishing your accident report, so much the better!

Move 10. e5
The fake danger:
Chess That’s right, chess fans. What was once seen as a problem move in the trusted Najdorf Variation of the Sicilian Defense, is playable after all. Thank to the continued efforts of the folks at Rybka, there are many solutions this seeming stalemate of a move. Including of course, but not limited to: 10. h6, 11. Bh4 dxe5, 12. fxe5 (alt: 12 wfd7).

The Oreo Upshot:
If you understood any of that, you have Oreo points for life, even if you do decide to watch an episode of House of Payne.

I Have a Dream…That White People Will Tell My Story

Thank you to Dexter King for doing the right thing.

This week, the son of civil rights icon MLKing, sold the rights to his father’s story to director Steven Spielberg. This is the first time that anyone has been allowed to purchase the rights.

Dexter King

Good on you, Dex. Way to uphold the Oreo spirit. Who better to tell the story of a black man of modest means and constant struggle than a white bazillionaire?

The fact that Spielberg, in order to justify his need for the rights, produced neither a script nor an outline for the film should raise zero eyebrows. Though he hasn’t proven to Dex that he has the right story, he has proven to the King heir that he has the right amount of cash to put down for it, and what is more Anglo-tastic than capitalism.

Besides, a movie about a black person that is also written and/or directed by a black person suddenly goes from “Oscar contender” to “niche film.” And that’s just not marketable. Unless it’s done by Tyler Perry who is a marketing machine, but is doing nothing but hurting the cause.

Another debt of gratitude then to directors of color like Spike Lee (who has done quite enough, thank you), John Singleton, F. Gary Gary (The Negotiator, The Italian Job, Be Cool),Carl Franklin (One False Move, Devil In A Blue Dress, Out Of Time), Clark Johnson (SWAT, The Sentinel), Tim Story (Barbershop, Fantastic Four 1 and 2) and Antoine Fuqua (Training Day, King Arthur, Tears of the Sun, Shooter) for not picking up the MLK helm and running with it.

Why settle for the predictable nuance, verisimilitude and personal experience a black director could bring to the MLK story when a sweeping John Williams score and a perfectly timed push-in can tell us exactly how to feel and will guide us out of the guilt and toward a sunny, unchallenging ending.

Steven Spielberg

Also, Spielberg has proven that we don’t really need black people to tell black people’s stories. After Amistad and The Color Purple, I say let’s turn over all of “our” movies over to him. That way, we can concentrate on how the powers that be see our struggles and learn to more accurately adhere to their vision.

The best part of this puzzle: A rich, powerful white man now owns the rights to a black man’s life. Makes you nostalgic for the old days, doesn’t it.

Plausible Deniability

I almost bought a watermelon today.

I know excuses are pitiful, but it was hot, I was hungry and the allure of a lightly sweet, hydrating fruit was mighty and powerful.

But I was strong. I left the display, went inside and bought a bushel of figs instead.

The whole experience made me realize there are some things that even the most devoted Oreo will have a hard time avoiding. I’m listing some here for your reference, hoping that you can forgive me my trespasses and looking for a program, 12 steps or otherwise, that can help.

Ashy Knees. When one has higher levels of melatonin in one’s skin, one should also have higher levels of lotion with them at any given time. We do our best, but sometimes extra dry weather, a sudden fall to the ground, or time spent genuflecting and praying to be released from our ethnic bondage will sap the skin of moisture. Don’t worry, we’ll reapply as soon as possible.

Hairanoia. As discussed earlier, hair is a very delicate subject for an Oreo. We go 6046 through great pains to keep it in line….a very straight line…and stray jets of water, rainfall or the beach or a public pool can be disastrous. It’s not that we can’t swim, it’s just that like a Mogwai, water has the ability to replicate things about ourselves that are best left alone. Specifically, the curls that give away our true identities.

Looking Bad by Comparison. If you watch movies, you will see that black people are relegated one of to two roles. They are either the obligatory thugs/criminals/ ganstas , or they are what is affectionately called a Magical Negro.

These MNs are found in movies like The Green Mile, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, The Legend of Bagger Vance, The Shining, The Hudsucker Proxy, Because of Wynn Dixie, Two Weeks Notice, Shawshank Redemption, Million Dollar Baby, Driving Miss Daisy (oh, hell, the whole Morgan Freeman oeuvre), The Matrix, O Brother Where Art Thou and The Stand, just to name a few.

These black characters exist to help white characters with whatever their problems may be without taking any reward or benefit for themselves.

The truth is, every black person is a Magical Negro. If you’re a scuzzy looking white person, you’re not nearly as frightening as that black man in line behind you, so consider the loan yours. If you’re a white lady with a few baby daddies, well at least those daddies don’t come from Inglewood, so line up for county services. If you’re a high school dropout with suction cups for hands, your resume is still more readable than Harvard graduate DeShawnda’s so get ready to roll over that 401K.

Sickle Cell Anemia. This disease exists only in persons of African descent. 76520-004-27CD47E9 The upside: It renders us immune to Malaria. The downside: It exists only in persons of African descent, so the blood test that’s part of a yearly physical forces us to reckon with who we really are. Why must you betray us, biology?

Grits. No excuses here. Grits are amazing. Small. Grainy. Filling. Delicious…and white. So hopefully that counts for something.