This Brown Man is medicated these days - not in the kind of way that makes me feel like a zombie, but just enough to throw off my equilibrium as it begins to counteract what ails me. I didn't feel like cursing anybody on a cable news show at all last week. Now, after a week of this pharmaceutical regimen, it seems that the drugs my doctor prescribed must be working, at least a little bit, because I started writing imaginary blog posts in my head again yesterday while I ate breakfast. Which is good, because I have to be on this stuff for at least two more weeks.
Since I last posted anything almost a week ago, a lot has happened. George Foreman's son, George Foreman the Third (not to be confused with any of his brothers, George Foreman the Second through the Sixth), a graduate of Rice University, is taking a turn in the ring as a professional boxer. Tiger Woods has brought NFL type excitement back to golf, which was drowning fast without him, by winning his latest tournament.
The Los Angeles Lakers are probably packing their bags for Disney now so they don't have to fly all the way back to the West Coast after they sweep the Orlando Magic in Game Four of the NBA Finals. President Obama's Supreme Court nominee Sotomayor has a broken ankle, which some smart ass on the radio will try to say is a tactic by the Puerto Rican jurist to elicit sympathy from the Republican senators who have already drawn a target on her back.
The Resident Diva would be packing for college herself, except her school doesn't start for months. Months! Several looong months, during which it looks like I am going to be learning more about the Billionaire Boys Club, hear more of the fabulous Wale (pronounced Wahh-lay for all you middle aged readers) at all hours of the night, and find out the maximum number of color combinations a Korean nail shop is willing to apply to a teenage girl's fingernails in one sitting. I finally took down the "2009 Graduate" sign today, which should be a signal to all the other high school graduates who seem to populate our house day and night these last two weeks that the party is over. But if you know teenagers, you know that I am just kidding myself.
And the grass in my backyard, that glorious patch of mud I've been staring at every night for weeks, has finally begun sprouting a thin, patchy layer of fuzzy green that looks about as sparse as the hairs on a teen aged boy's face. I feel about as hopeful as I did back when I was a teen aged boy while I watch carefully every evening for the latest tender little blade to reveal itself.
Add to all of this a book that I've finally started, one that I've been promising myself that I would write this summer instead of doing the same old complaining to my buddies about what we African Americans need to be working on to get our act together, and it looks like a long summer ahead.
No matter. Medication or no medication, the Brown Man is back in action.
Judging by some of the headlines I've seen the past couple of days, this should be an easy week.
A special thanks to Yvette Carnell for helping the Brown Man out last week with her op-ed piece, In Defense Of Sonia Sotomayor - she may have inadvertently kicked off the summer Guest Blogger series.