Urban Thought Collective

Okay so the latest craze on FaceBook these days is the “25 random things about me” CHAIN letter.

I detest CHAIN letters.

I find them rude and annoying. If you want to write me a note, or share a little story about yourself with me, write me a note or share a little story dammit, but don’t do it under the brazen assumption that I owe you something in return. Wasn’t reading your note/story proof enough of my friendship? Now you expect me to not only write something in kind but force 25 unsuspecting innocent bystanders to do the same? NO THANK YOU.

How rude would it be if I only wrote blogs solely for the purpose of eliciting your comments? Okay, that’s probably a bad example as that is pretty much the whole point of blogging (please keep those comments coming and by all means tag 25 of your nearest and dearest friends to do the same) as nobody strives to do it in obscurity. Blogging is a verb after all. It’s a community activity, by design, but chain letters…well chain letters are just evil. Even the religious ones. There, I said it, and I haven’t been struck by lightening…yet.

So while I make it a point to delete every chain letter that comes my way, that doesn’t mean the letters themselves have no value. I tear up every time one of my good good girlfriends sends me one of those “I’m only as strong as the coffee I drink and the friends that I have. Thanks for loving me.” I’m leaving out the part where I’m supposed to pass said chain letter along to as many friends as I can (including the one who sent it) to see just how many of them feel the same about me. As if this is a true barometer of friendship, finding as many people as possible who have absolutely nothing better to do than to waste time on the internet. I want friends who are too busy for such activities. Friends who are so busy working, making big money, that when I call to ask to borrow some they prove how much they love me by giving it to me.

That said, I found the “25 random things about me” a rather amusing concept and decided to play along. This is not a CHAIN letter. You are not required to forward it to anybody. You are under no obligation to respond in kind. I submit this merely for your reading pleasure.

1 ) I am Black. Not African-American. I get the sentiment behind the whole A-A thing, but it just doesn’t sit right with me. Never has. I mean anyone with a third grade education knows that anybody who looks like me (full hips, round booty, small nappy patch in the back of my head) has ancestors who came from Africa, so why do I have to broadcast it all the damn time. I don’t remember anyone calling George W, the 43rd European-American President of the United States. Even money says my people have been here longer than his people especially if any of his people came by way of Ellis Island. My people weren’t so lucky. They came way before 1892, when the first boat load of Europeans came sailing past Lady Liberty. My people took a far less scenic route. My 99 year-old grandfather to this very day tells vivid stories about his grandmother who was born into slavery, so as far as I’m concerned I’m as American as anybody who can claim their people have been here for over 146 years. Not that I’m trying to distance myself from the dark continent, that is in fact, the birthplace of all civilization, but until everyone hyphenates, I’m Black and I’m proud of it.

2 ) Sunday’s are for football not shopping.

3 ) He who buys me a Porsche wins. I’m not picky, used will do.

4 ) Prostitution should be legalized. It’s been around since biblical times, going to be around when Armageddon arrives. Shouldn’t endurance and persistence count for something? And whatever happened to, “if you can’t beat em, join ‘em?” The federal government is in dire need of revenue, why not cash in on something that when properly regulated is no more a societal irritant than say, bad manners. Prostitutes would be properly screened (for a fee mind you) for STD’s as would the Johns. Imagine all the grateful unsuspecting wives who won’t be peeing glass and wondering if it is self induced because they’ve been wearing their jeans too tight. The screenings plus a heavy tax on the actual service itself could practically fund universal healthcare. I’m not endorsing the sex-for-trade business, but come on, if you can’t beat ‘em, at least make some money off ‘em.

5 ) Marijuana should be legalized. Ditto the always been around, gonna always be round thing. The argument that pot is a gateway drug is the equivalent of saying a flirtatious wink leads to random sex in an alley. Sure, it CAN happen, but most often it DOESN’T. Most people who smoke ganja are otherwise law abiding, tax paying citizens who would welcome the opportunity to buy consistent, quality smoke without the fear of the po-po knocking on their door and would handsomely pay for the privilege. Don’t even get me started how much the government could rake in if they slapped an organic label on a brick? That kind of revenue could fund a cop on every corner. Cops who because they are no longer busting hos and pushers could actually focus on solving real crimes, like rape and murder. Yes, I recognize that weed is a mind altering drug, but I dare you to find me one woman who got a beat down from her man because he was too high on weed. Too drunk on beer? Happens all the time. Out of his mind on crack, season two, six and eight Law & Order episodes. But weed? Come on, the most a man on weed is going to do is eat the last piece of cake his girl had hidden away and then nosedive into the center of the bed leaving her no choice but to crash all hungry and pissed off on the lumpy ass couch. Rude yes, criminal no.

6 ) I like mustard, relish and onions on my turkey dogs.

7 ) It’s all about Splenda right about now. Yes, I know artificial sugar will probably cause me to grow a third tit or something before I die, but until then, I will easily fit into my skinny jeans and be happy about it. It’s a calculated risk worth taking.

8 ) There’s nothing like a good f@#$, that’s what I always say. I see absolutely nothing wrong with it, unless it’s in front of kids or my 99 year-old grandfather. I’m talking about saying the word not doing the deed, though now that I think about it…

9 ) Reduce, Reuse, Recycle or die.

10 ) I still eat pumpkins seeds.

Sorry, that’s all the time we have for this week but studies show people lose focus after 1200 words…so tune in next time for the final fifteen.

Tamara T. Gregory is a writer/producer/traveler. Happily single (yes, there really is such a thing), she is an expert on the dating game. Her debut novel, Passport Diaries, is an LA Times bestseller and is soon to become a Hollywood motion picture. The book is available at www.passportdiaries.com. Gregory’s X…WHY blog is exclusive to Urban Thought Collective.