Friday, March 28, 2008

Rasta Is My Foundation

In College (Univ. of Tampa) this was on my door:

"Greetings in the name of His Imperial Majesty, JAH RASTAFARI"

And it will always be that way. Yesterday I met this Man, for those of you who don't know, he is Mickael Pietrus from the Golden State Warriors. We spotted him at PF Chang's in Emeryville, after eating some lunch and running errands. I approached him and said, "Hi Mickael! Are you going to play tonight?" He looked at me like I was some kind of half human half vampire and looked totally shook. He didn't say a word and shook his head no. The look on his face was like a kid who was caught stealing candy from a candy store and lied to your face about it. I mean, I looked like a ghost to him because he was shook. After about 10 seconds of his awkward stare at me I replied with, "Well, good luck anyway." I was fucking pissed off. On TV he comes off as such a nice person, and Jimmy B. always talks about how approachable he is. I saw the true Mickael, and first impressions last. Next time I see you Pietrus, I will not show you any love. I hope you get traded to the Miami Heat, sucka ass punk.

This pissed me off more than the punk ass sales associates at Sports Basement (off Bryant). Those people were BEYOND racist and were treating me like the scum of the Earth. Not only did they NOT help me find what I was looking for. They had the audacity to think I was stealing from the store. How do I know they were racist pricks? Every other [WHITE]customer in that 4 floored massive warehouse was greeted with a smile. Sales associates were jovial and joking with them and sharing sports anecdotes. Also, they were talking to each other gleefully, but when it came to me and my queen, silence and stares. To top it off, my queen was knocking things over (not on purpose) and not one person gave a damn. But, when we were looking at the swim goggles, this sales associate came up to us and gave us, "Are you finding everything okay?" I said yeah and she gave my girl the ice grill. As one who is trained in the arts of customer service, she was told over the radio, go check on that pair over there and see what's up (i.e. stealing) It is a joke! We were in there for almost half an hour before someone steps to us but as soon as other [WHITE] customers came in the door it was "Welcome to Sports Basement!" (Yes we got two tennis racquets and some tennis balls, that were paid for!)

I and I deal with inequality on the daily. Yet, my foundation is solid as the pyrimids in Africa. Never did I disrespect. Not once did I come at anybody sideways and off the hook. People see me and the first thing they see is a nigger, or big Black man, or scary Black person. Not everybody is like this!, fourtunately for the world, but even in cosmopolitan San Francisco, overt non-discrete racist action occurs. I have dealt with this kind of bullshit for my entire existence and don't expect it to change. So, in the spirit of Rastafari, I will give you a song.

Man to man is so unjust, children
You don't know who to trust
Your worst enemy could be your best friend
And your best friend your worst enemy

Some will eat and drink with you
Then behind them su-su 'pon you
Only your friend know your secrets
So only he could reveal it
And who the cap fit, let them wear it [repeat]
Said I throw me corn, me no call no fowl
I saying, "Cok-cok-cok, cluck-cluck-cluck"

Some will hate you, pretend they love you now
Then behind they try to eliminate you
But who JAH bless, no one curse
Thank God we're past the worse

Hypocrites and parasites
Will come up and take a bite
And if your night should turn to day
A lot of people would run away
And who the cap fit let them wear it [repeat]

And then a gonna throw me corn
And then a gonna call no fowl
And then a gonna "Cok-cok-cok, cluck-cluck-cluck"

Some will eat and drink with you
And then behind them su-su 'pon you
And if your night should turn to day
A lot of people will run away
Who the cap fit, let them wear it [repeat]
Throw me corn, me no call no fowl
I saying "Cok-cok-cok, cluck-cluck-cluck"