In a prelude to his upcoming appearance on BET, he appeared at a sparsely-attended press conference outside his local office, resplendent in a colorful daishiki, with his formerly shellacked hair frizzing freely in a three-foot diameter “afro-style” hairdo.
“As you all know, Bill Clinton was the first black president. Well, I’m the first black Senate Majority Leader. It’s truly a proud day for the Republican Party and the African-American community.”
“I know that many of you will be surprised to learn that I was ‘passing’ all of these years. It was a deep, dark family secret.”
“My great-great grandmother was a house nigra on a plantation outside of Biloxi. My great-grandfather was a mullatto, my grandmother was a quadroon, and my mother was an octaroon, which makes me a hexidecaroon. As all of you from hereabouts know, just a touch of one hair of the tarbrush means that I can never be truly white.”
It was sort of a fail, at least for me. I own less than 25% of those books, and have read fewer than a third. Many of them I read as a kid, when my parents had copies.
