This is NOT Over

Sunday Feb 4, 1990 Token White Guy

Got up in time for lunch. Stuffed my face with turkey, mashed potatoes and stuffing to complete the stuffing of my face. Then made my way, ever so slowly to the lobby.

Fucking Ferikahn! Laura with the Big Boobs and Victor are still going at each other about the Nation of Islam speech and rally here at our fine feathered institute of finkdom. Great. Now I'm the Penguin.

Jen-O and I were content to stay out of the conversation, smoke our cigarettes and read on the couches across from these two interlocutors who, in this author's humble opinion, ought to just get a room and fuck because they are clearly hot for each other.
I don't know how, but I was drawn into the conversation. These are my friends and reasonable people, I want to give them the benefit of the doubt. I don't want to assume it was because I was the only white person there raised in a Christian household. Perhaps they took notice of me because I burped so violently I almost puked. Either way I was in and the conversation took its natural turn, the turn towards the source of everyone's grief.

The cafeteria at Douglass Hall...no wait, that was presently the source of my grief in the form of indigestion or whatever was going on in my belly.

We, mostly they, talked about the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s and Jewish civil rights workers organizing side by side with black leaders, religious and otherwise to ensure voting rights in the South. All good things mind you (and all things we actually knew very little about being born at the end of the 60’s or in the case of Laura with the Big Boobs, after the Beatles broke up), but there was a sense that the real way to end all the discord in these times is to remind each other that in spite of everyone's efforts twenty some years ago, inequality still persists in Reagan and Bush's America.

To which I added, "Damn that whitey."

I thought it was funny. Jen-O closed her book and smiled at me. Usually Victor finds my "Blame Whitey" jokes funny but not now. Laura With the Big Boobs never found them funny. I think, in a weird way, they were united once again against white dumbassness as manifested by me.

"What?" I asked.

Laura said, "I never know what to make of that."

"What to make of what?" I asked.

"Your whitey remarks."

"Do you think I am racist against white people?" I asked.

"No. It sounds like you are making fun of people crying out against a history of oppression and crimes committed against them because of ignorance or worse."

"Hey, nobody knows white ignorance or worse like I do," I responded.

"What does that mean?" Jen-O asked.

“Crimes against humanity perpetrated by the white race only begins with the decimation of peoples all over the world, the conquest of the Native Americans, black slavery, the Holocaust…if you want to call the Nazis white, I think they thought they were too good to be just plain old “white”…these white devils weren’t content with the sins against other races, peoples, creeds whatever. They unleashed horrors on the culture and their own children. I’m talking about John Denver, the Dukes of Hazard and fondue. Any of you guys forced to eat fondue in the 70’s?”

Appropriately enough, there was no response.

“Now come on Jen-o,” I said, “Let’s go to my room and read Xenophon.”

And we did.


Monday Feb 5, 1990 Sleepy All the Time

Danny invited me over to his place. By his place I still mean that hotel in Sycamore. Ran into Note after my Soc class. Megs spent the weekend at his place and he was going home to wake her. He asked if we should do something before she drives back to Joliet. I told him about Danny's invite and that Megs would want to see her cousin. He asked, "Are you people taking over this town?"

I guess it's starting to look like a Slovenian invasion around here.

Smoked cigarettes outside Note's place on Kimberly while he got Megs and her shit together. We fit ourselves in the Saab and went to Sycamore. Danny talked about his Juro research. Note wanted a copy of the original paper and Danny obliged. Surprised to find out that Megs never read it. She's so smart I always assume she reads everything.

Even though she's with Note, who is probably the smartest guy I know up here, poor Megs is looking less smart all the time.

She's looking kinda sleepy too.

All the time.

Maybe I am overreacting. She's only been out of it the last two times I've seen her up here. At home she was great. The old Megs.

Met Bill at KDI and he brought a tape Devin made. The first two songs were great. I want to make music with that guy but he might be out of my league.

Whether it is women or guitar players, my problems are sort of the same.

After the show, Bill went back to Douglass with Ruthie and her friend. I hung out with Ilene with an "I". I met her last October at one of the Col's parties. Maybe I focused my attention on a girl who spelled that name with an "E" when I should've given more thought to the one with an "I".

What do I know?

We listened to Dave's show for five minutes. I asked her if her day always ended at 2:05am. She said no. She slept too much today and had too much energy to go to bed. She invited me to her place, just up the street from the station. We drank beer and listened to Killdozer's "Twelve Point Buck."

During "Free Love in Amsterdam" I thought about making my move, but realizing I have no move I just drank my beer and listened to the record. We sat on her couch, talked music and had a nice night.

Ok then.