Tea with your demons or... (Part Four)

Tea with Your Demons Or, How I Learned To Stop Worrying And Love Life (Part Four)

7) But even with all that, I find that life is filled with so many beautiful moments and sounds and tastes and adventures and great people I can hardly stand it. Like:
+Seeing a sharp dressed, 60-something Black couple walking together in the rain looking…content.
+Or the cutest kid ever complaining to his mom that he didn’t want to shop at Claire’s. [AN: he was there because his equally adorable older sister was at the age all girls go through when they get ecstatic about all that plastic jewelry. Even I did and I was and am a total tomboy.] Um. Not that I still shop at Claire’s, I’m a grown-ass woman. Ahem.
+A crumbling but still magnificent old theater on a still street.
+Riding on the Light Rail and listening to people elongate their vowels and put all their business on the street. True quote I heard tonight:

“Yo, niggas can’t run straight when they’re drunk!”

Imagine that said with the matter-of-fact tone a bleeding heart liberal such as myself reserves for telling a 28-Percenter (i.e., the people who drop science on why they still support Bush II) why affirmative action shouldn’t be dismantled.

+Or getting on the school shuttle and the Manhattans’ “Kiss and Say Goodbye” coming on the radio and laughing with the bus driver and getting asked “What you know about this??!!”
+My mom’s laugh.
+My dad’s offbeat sense of humor.
+The comments section on this very blog.
+Every shot, frame, and second of Killer of Sheep.
+Open mic poetry, which vacillates between being amazingly brilliant and rip-roaringly, viciously AWFUL.
+The way Black men walk. My god, the rhythm, the grace, the vulnerability, the edge. Many imitate (looking at you, like, every third Filipino in San Francisco) [AN: I kid, I kid!] but can never duplicate. Not.Even.Close.

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