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Week of October 9 - 15, 2002
Bud's Eyeview by Bud Johnson


“Barber Shop” truths cut deep OR:
Black rhetoric becomes ridicule in Whites’ presence


Woebeit I was just beginning to respect Rev. Al Sharpton’s common sense intellect, in spite of his “Godfather of Soul’s” do, when he allowed me to peep his hole card and discover that he is just another “Typical Boot.” Yeah, a typical boot, i.e., made in America African that unconsciously act like children showing respect for their elders, whenever they think mainstream America might be scrutinizing us. Then again, old slick Al could just be doing what he does best, inasmuch as he has no peers when it comes to making news out of nonsense.

And nothing lurking in my Twilight Zone cranial circuits makes less sense than the nonsensical “Barber Shop” movie controversy. Yes, it’s nonsense for Rev. Jesse Jackson and old “Sharp,” to challenge insensitive rhetoric (dissing some of our most beloved civil rights heroes), in a movie, when they’ve made a career out of speaking freely. Even so, I know where our watchmen on the wall are coming from. You can be sure, Black folks circa 1950s’ home training, included a “written in stone” set of rules on how to conduct yourself around strangers, or when the preacher stops by to test your momma’s chicken frying skills.

Oh yeah, you might as well fess up, because you know those of us who grew up in shotgun row houses could even hear the bed springs squeaking when our parents were getting it on. You might as well tell the truth, because if you grew up in my ‘hood, I definitely owe you an apology. Regrettably I was a curious child who didn’t realize peeping in other people’s windows to watch them bath, or do other very personal things, was a crime at such a tender and innocent age. But we dare not digress, so let’s go back to the “Barber Shop.”

I didn’t see the movie, but since I sat in the late, great Charlie Crawford’s (Square Deal #2 Barber Shop, on the corner of Lyons & Benson), from infancy to young adulthood, I have a pretty good idea why the movie offends upwardly-mobile African-American intelligentsia. Especially those “we are not a monolithic people,” Group One brothers and sisters who were brainwashed to believe that if we acted right, the good White folks would accept us. And what was acting right? Well, my momma never told me to try to act White, but she warned me sternly not to act like a (N-word), around them. Are you praying with me brothers and sisters?
In Rome do as Romans aside, you and I know that the only reason Jesse and Al hastened to defend our deified civil rights heroes is because a few White folks might be curious enough to check out the movie. God forbid, if White folks would conclude they had been given license to talk about “Martin Luther Coon,” or call Rosa Parks a female bow-wow, just because we allowed movie characters to get away with it. Come on now, brothers and sisters, you might as well pray with me. You know I’m right and I know you know that, because I often hear you rationalizing, “We should stop calling ourselves that word, if we don’t want White folks using it.”

Amos & Andy notwithstanding, we still haven’t snapped to realize that White folks, for the most part, totally ignore Black folks as much as possible. Frankly, we have long been a nuisance that they wish would just go away. Would you want somebody you have raped, abused and misused constantly up in your face?
Especially if they come around asking for reparations, like a dumb prostitute, who turns tricks before she’s paid. Oops! I’ve drifted into the Outer Limits again, so I’d better regroup. What I’m saying is, for some insane reason Black folks are still seeking the approval and/or even respect of White folks.
I’m talking to people that had to convince themselves we weren’t quite human to justify enslaving our forefathers. On the other hand, racist White folks still ignore Black folks as much as possible. We aren’t exactly invisible any more. Yet, we are still so insignificant in their lives (unless we’re robbing them, whipping their heads, or screwing their women), until corporate America never includes our media in their advertising budgets. Like my great-grand-mother Easter use to say, “We ain’t nothing but a bump on a log.” Oh? You think I’m just cracking? Come on now, if you’ve ever been a token Black, you know where I’m coming from.

Haven’t you ever been told, “You’re different from other Black people?” Hey, that’s why you American dreamers keep ranting, “We are not a monolithic people!”
It greatly saddens me when my folks are still overly concerned about what White folks think about us, because they have proven over and over again, that they don’t think very much about us anyway. Believe it or not, but my brothers and sisters hate to see me walk into a press conference and won’t dare sit near me. They know that, sooner or later, I’m going to act like one of them things my momma admonished me not to. I usually use the N-word just to see my brothers and sisters squirm.

“Hey man, some White folks are over there,” my Black colleagues whispers when I cut loose with a N-word in the press box. Naturally, I play the fool and ask, “Where? I don’t see nobody here but us.” In essence I’m throwing it back at the White folks, who I know ignore us. For sure, I realize that “acting right,” or being intelligent, is still a high priority with descendants of slaves who are intent on showing the White folks that we aren’t sub-human. I would love to believe that if Barber Shop had included a scene to have a White guy walk in, he would have been told, “If you grin, you in. If you stay, you play,” and his momma would’ve been talked about too.

However, since Barber Shop’s truth cut so deep in 2002 Black America, it would be more realistic if the brothers immediately started discussing world events. That’s what time it is in Black America, because we’re still trying to impress White folks. I wonder if anybody knows where I’m coming from?

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