Seriously, Where Are My Homeboys Currently Stationed?

by Rick Paulas

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In honor of yesterday's MLK Jr. Day - when all races were able to bond together by parking where the street-sweepers roam, without being disturbed - the cutest DT&R Editor rants about his darkened friend deficit.

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For some reason or another, I've never had any black friends. Or Hispanics, for that matter. Or really, when you get right down to it, any race besides white. I remember a small afroed black kid I used to play with in the community pool when I was 4, but that's all.

I like to think of myself as a liberal, someone who can get along with any race no matter the depth of their skin tone, but what does the lack of non-white friends mean about me? Why haven't I been able to maintain a passingly-social relationship with anyone but Whitey? Am I too white?

Sure, I have the short-cropped hair, and the collared buttom-up shirts, and the glasses. But are other races that superficial? Do I need to conform to their culture before I'm accepted by them? Do I need to trade in my E! for BET? My light beer for malt liquor? My "Arrested Development" DVD collection for a "Barbershop" box-set? My regular-sized latex condoms for massive, industrial-made, tire-rubber ones?

Maybe all I need are some baggy pants and Bride of Frankenstein-esque hair, like that Kid. Or was it Play? I can never tell them apart. Is that why black people hate me?

(What I mean when I say that I can't tell Kid N' Play apart, I don't mean that all black people look alike to me. I mean, I can tell all of the characters in "The Wire" apart from each other. That has to count for something, right?)

One thing I can't bring myself to do is to listen to that rap music. I mean, maybe I don't get it or something, but what's with all of that bass? It seems kind of unnecessary to be constantly vibrating. One time my dad told me that guys enjoy the bass in rap music because it tickles their balls.

Maybe my balls just aren't that sensitive. Maybe I have White Man's Balls.

Is it anything like that ball-tickling feeling you get when you're going down a steep hill on a roller coaster? If so, it makes a little more sense to me ... except that no one wants to ride a roller coaster all day and all night. After awhile, it loses its shock value. You get densensitized to all of those loop-de-loops and twists-and-turns.

Of course, there are those crazy roller coaster enthusiasts - most of them white, by the way. All they do is go from theme-park-to-theme-park, riding coaster after coaster, their stomach and balls callused with experience.

And I guess that's really the message, on this, the day after MLK Jr. Day: No matter the race, densensitized testicles are to be admired.