Being insulted by globe trotters of color…
My adult life has a handful of very memorable encounters with globe trotters of color who insist that my “mind” will be “expanded” when I stop being “scared” of travelling the world. The reason why I remember these encounters is because they really, really frustrate me. These encounters serve as evidence of how all of us have these “friends” that supposedly know who we are—but, when we spend time with these pals, it is often essentially sitting in a room with a person watching them talk to themselves. Recreational drugs and booze of course smooth this over a bit—but remember folks: I’m listening to my buddy sober, alive and awake.
The reason why I distinguish globe trotters of color is because very often these are the people who had to overcome a financially and intellectually impoverished childhood, completely surrounded by violently ignorant companions and family, to escape into the wider (whiter) world. These people, statistically speaking, are very correct to assume that, when they meet a forty year old Black man like me with the amounts of money I have made (and supposedly still have), certainly I must be “scared” to travel the world.
And, to make my situation worse, I help my accusers by telling them that my father’s career as a mechanic for Delta Airlines made it possible for me to travel the world for free—no airfare! I gave all of that up when I got married at 21 to have my first-born son (free air fare applied to unmarried children of Delta employees—I am not sure what the policy is now). What the hell is wrong with me? Certainly I must be “scared” to travel the world—and I must be a typical, ignorant/arrogant/ugly American.
This Blog post serves to record a set of bullet points moving toward my travel planning. I look forward to reading this Blog post in the last month of 2010 (the year we make contact, heh-heh) and laughing at how literally far I plan to have come. So let’s get moving:
- Since my father worked for Delta Airlines—and Western Airlines before that—I was flying in airplanes before most of my condescending, globe-trotting, colored “friends” set foot in an airport. Do any of you n-words out there know that Compton has an airport? (Of course you think I’m “weird,” son: when I was a kid, my father used to fly us from Compton to Catalina Island for lunch—and we are not a “rich” family. You ain’t never seen that filmed by John Singleton.) Since my father is more patriotic and American than the average white person would think, we did most of our travelling inside the United States.
- The David Bowie album Lodger represents the earliest sign of my passionate independent interest in intercontinental travel. As a teenager, I idolized the concept behind this conceptual album and could not wait to make my version of such a work. Did I mention that this interest was in me since I was a teenager? Do you have any idea how long I have been held back? Or would you just assume that I am “scared”? Hmm…
- One very important reason why I saved this photograph of confirmation that my child support payments (for my first-born son) are complete is that, as of 2008, I am able to leave the country. “What?” Yes, that’s right: I was unable to leave the mufukkin country with outstanding arrears. Aren’t you glad you don’t know any “losers” like me? (Your answer to this question should be “yes” by the way.)
- The travel-centered Blog, “The Art of Nonconformity,” is very helpful. My past entries about my long-time friends, “A Tall Art Girl in Paris” and “Monalisa in Alhambra,” should be seen as overtures preparing for my travel song.
Oh yes, G. I plan to travel. It would be totally irresponsible for me not to see the Great Pyramids. A way must be found to see the temples carved in solid rock in Ethiopia. After these two ancestral trips are made, then I can move into some kind of indigenous-centered eco-tourism (and the obvious Western bling stuff like “Marriott’s Newport Coast Villas: For a memorable vacation in Newport Coast”).
Even though I do plan to travel, I am very confident that my “mind” will not be as “expanded” as my globe-trotting veterans seem to think. Shit, DMX is a world traveler. Hollywood celebrities travel the world but too many for my taste still end up in bed (and in divorce court) with someone in the next trailer on the set. I am arrogantly and annoyingly sure that my world travels will only help ‘certain people’ finally discover in me what was already in me from the mufukkin start. I am angry at such people because they should have seen it in me from the start.
But I can’t get too angry once I chill and reflect upon how much they actually see in themselves. My new friend (by way of R/Kain Blaze), Tomoko—a seasoned world traveler—, helps a lot when she says that travelling (not as a typical tourist) enhances your inner life. I know for a fact that enhancing my inner life is not going to make the lives of materialistic people that talk to themselves while they think they are talking to “friends” better. Improving the inner being can be like making a lot of money surrounded by the cash poor. The cash poor cannot really care about how much you have improved while they are starving (and trying to “give” them money often makes matters worse). So I don’t plan to see dramatic, world-changing events after I walk out of the International Terminal at LAX.
I write stuff like this not to make my “friends” stop talking to me completely. I’m just trying to avoid a few specific topics of conversation. Surely, there is so much more to talk about.
Hey, T! Check out this “DIY Compact Survival Kit”!