On June 11, 1982, I was sitting in Charlie and Joey’s (the Japanese-Italian brothers I mention in my bio) living room waiting for the start of the fight between heavyweight boxing champion Larry “The Easton Assassin” Holmes and challenger “Gentleman” Gerry Cooney. Wilfredo Gomez had just knocked out Juan Antonio Lopez on the undercard. The grown-ups were drinking. Everyone seemed happy. Among the adults were Charlie and Joey’s dad, Chuck, their uncle, Sam, and a few guys whose names I’ve long forgotten. One guy in particular (we’ll call him “Dick”) asked me who I thought was going to win the fight. I smilingly responded, “Holmes.” Except for the TV, the room went silent. Obviously I was in a pro-Cooney crowd.
For months boxing promoter, Don King, white supremacist groups, black militant groups,and the media turned a fight into a race relations spectacle. Violent threats were made against both fighters. Because there hadn’t been a white heavyweight champion since 1960, Gerry Cooney was cast “The Great White Hope”. The ring was placed in the Caesar’s Palace parking lot so police snipers were placed on the rooftops of the surrounding hotels just in case.
“Are you crazy?” “Aw c’mon…Cooney knocks guys out with body shots!” “Holmes is too old!” “You obviously don’t know a damn thing about boxing.” Those were a few responses hurled my way, mostly from the adults. Then with a dismissive hand gesture “Dick” said, “You’re only rooting for him because he’s black.” I was the only black in attendance. I thought to myself, “He called me a racist!” Truth be told, I didn't even like Larry Holmes. I just knew he was a better fighter. Holmes won by TKO when Cooney’s corner threw in the towel in the 13th round. I raised my arms in triumph and went home.
It was in 1990 when I first heard that black people “can’t be racist”. A black co-worker said this out loud in a group of eight guys. This former crack addict claimed since blacks did not control the power structure, they could not be racist. Everyone else in the room was white. None of them challenged him. White condescension at its finest. I challenged his bogus premise and in so doing I was called a racist. I was also a racist for marrying a white woman (it's OK to sleep with them just don't marry them), and living in a place with no culture—the suburbs. Today I still live in a cultureless suburb while I’m sure he sleeps on someone else’s cultured couch.
In the late 90’s I found myself ranting about the people working in the Drive-Thru to take my order. It didn’t matter where I went—the person on the other side of the speaker could barely speak English but were very fluent en Espanol. A Mexican immigrant who worked for me said I was racist and hated Mexicans. A few weeks later he met Jesse (born Jesus south of the border), the best man at my wedding.
About two years ago I was discussing racism in the entertainment field with two black gentlemen I play basketball with on Saturdays. One is a writer who written a few movies and worked on several TV shows. The other is an editor for one of the biggest entertainment companies in existence. At that time, I worked for a company that aspired to be on the underbelly of entertainment. Both men complained about the lack of blacks in this part and that part of entertainment. The writer was always on a “black” show. He wanted a chance to write for the “Seinfelds” or “Everybody Loves Raymonds” but he was stuck writing for “The Parent Hoods” and “Moeshas”. I asked them, “Would you rather A) be “stuck” doing what you’re doing, or B) be the President of any African country where just about everyone around you is black?” They both chose A.
A week before the 2008 Presidential election, my editor friend got into it over who we were voting for. I was voting for John McCain. My friend said I was a racist and Uncle Tom because I didn’t want to see a black man in the White House. Not true. I didn’t want to see this black man in the White House. I felt Barack Obama’s politics would make him the only black man in the White House for generations. He would screw things up so bad the country would say, “We’ve tried that already and look what happened!” Thus far I feel completely justified in my vote.
Just last week California Rep. Diane Watson (D) said about the healthcare debate, “They are spreading fear and they are trying to see that the first president that looks likes me fails.” She continued, “People look at the United States as a country that has changed its way and elected someone from Kenya and Kansas, I’ll put it like that.” So…because I want President Obama’s left-wing policies to crash and burn I hate black people? OK then if these examples I’ve presented make me a racist then call me a racist. Someone get my hood....
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