This is going to be my last bit of my three day Barack Obama commentary. I was going to move on to a different subject today, but then I ran across an excerpt from Obama's book, "Dreams From My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance" (which I had already read and I remember thinking something rang wrong about that particular bit as did much of the book which seemed awfully narcissistic and self-serving). The story goes that Obama's white grandmother who was raising and supporting him, was hassled by a bum at the bus stop. She wanted a ride to her work from Grandpa.
"Her lips pursed with irritation. 'He was very aggressive, Barry. Very aggressive. I gave him a dollar and he kept asking. If the bus hadn't come, I think he might have hit me over the head."
Apparently, Grandpa doesn't want to give her a ride and feels a need to explain this to the teenage Barack who apparently is totally in the dark about what the big deal is.
"He (Grandpa) turned around and I saw that he was shaking. "It is a big deal. It's a big deal to me. She's been bothered by men before. You know why she's so scared this time. I'll tell you why. Before you came in, she told me the fella was black." He whispered the word. "That's the real reason why she's bothered. And I just don't think that right.
"The words were like a fist in my stomach, and I wobbled to regain my composure. In my steadiest voice, I told him that such an attitude bothered me, too, but reassured him that Toot's fears would pass and that we should give her a ride in the meantime. Gramps slumped into a chair in the living room and said he was sorry he had told me. Before my eyes, he grew small and old and very sad. I put my hand on his shoulder and told him that it was all right, I understood.
"We remained like that for several minutes like that for several minutes, in painful silence. Finally he insisted that he drive Toot after all, and I thought about my grandparents. They had sacrificed again and again for me. They had poured all their lingering hopes into my success. Never had they given me reason to doubt their love; I doubted if they ever would. And yet I knew that men who might easily have been my brothers would still inspire their rawest fear."
Obama then drives over to his Frank's house, an old black communist party member and friend of Grandpa.
"What I'm trying to tell you is, your grandma's right to be scared. She's at least as right as Stanley is. She understands that black people have a reason to hate. That's just how it is. For your sake, I wish it were otherwise. But it's not. So you might as well get used to it."
"Frank closed his eyes. His breathing slowed until he seemed to be asleep. I thought about waking him, then decided against it and walked back to the car. The earth shook under my feet, ready to crack open at any moment. I stopped, trying to steady myself, and knew for the first time that I was utterly alone."
OH, PUHLEESE! Didn't we not learn anything about fabrication and self-promotion from James Frey's "A Million Little Pieces?" Think about this. Barack Obama is raised up by this loving grandmother who he obviously never thought of as racist in all his growing years. She is threatened by a scary street man who "happens to be black" (and it surely would be unusual because they live in Hawaii so a black man on the street begging is likely to be doing so serious drugs like ice or crack). She mentions he is black because it IS unusual and the word black functions as a description of the man, not a condemnation of blacks everywhere.
I have said similar things around my kids. My black husband said similar things around our kids. My husband might have said, "Some crazy white man came into the store," or I might have said "Some drunk black guy at the hospital threw a urinal at me," and just as likely my husband might have said, " Some weirdo black guy started harassing me in the parking lot, " or I might have said, "I got freaked today because while I was walking to pick up the kids at summer camp, a bunch of lowlife looking white guys were hanging on the corner and made comments at me."
I guess my husband and I could have left out those descriptors and just said guys or men but humans tend to try to conjure up pictures when they talk so they add in color of skin, hair, clothing, and any other significant feature. None of this means the person giving the description is a racist.
My kids never felt "blows to their stomachs" or felt that "their brothers" were terrifying their Mom. They never were so torn up by such comments that they lost their sense of identify and felt utterly alone. Furthermore, if they had, they wouldn't have immediately been so humble and kind and reasonable as Barack purports he was, the peacemaker and forgiver::rolls eyes::Obama is forever the good guy, the victim and never the victimizer. He is either a saint or a liar.
First of all, I doubt the entire scene happened as Obama relays it. I have a hard time believing his Grandpa would have gotten that angry over a simple comment and request for a ride to work unless he were one heck of a bastard. Maybe he was, but, if that is the case, the issue should be about him, not Grandma. Grandma had every right to be afraid and if Grandpa was that bent out of shape because the man she was afraid of just happened to be black, then Grandpa was mixing his political ideology with reality. Grandpa's communist friend would be doing the same if he came up with the bit about Grandma should be afraid of blacks because of history and not simply because this one black man was possibly a violent, desperate drug user who happened to be lurking on her street. Grandpa's friend made that man into a racist as well when all he might have been whacked out druggie. Everything in life is not politics.
So, this supposed incident becomes a pivotal moment in young Obama's life. For god's sake, Obama. Either you are blowing up a little incident into a political issue or you are seriously a narcissistic wuss and a drama queen. I remember my black son (adopted) who was barred from leaving the church (because after the program ended, the very careful lady at the door only opened it when she saw the child's mom approaching). The woman kept telling him I wasn't his mother as I came up the walk to the church. He kept saying, "Yes, she is!" and the woman thought he was just pulling her leg. Finally, she realized her mistake and let my son go with me! We all had a good laugh over it! My son didn't have an epiphany and realize the horrors of racism and think the woman was demented by history. He learned that she hadn't met to many black kids with white moms.
So, either, the people around Obama blew up minor incidents or he did the blowing up to make a good story and forward his very socialistic values. My guess is the latter because he has hooked up with Reverend Jeremiah Wright.
James Frey and Barack Obama may have a lot more in common than just authoring books. Oprah apparently hasn't figured that out and neither have a lot of goodhearted Americans who want to see this man as a messiah and a fresh voice for the future of America. I hope they don't vote the man into office only to wake up one day and realize that they had been fooled by a bunch of pretty words and nice smile. I am keeping my fingers crossed.
Criminal Profiler Pat Brown