Not too long ago I was finishing up getting changed back into my clothes after swimming laps at the YMCA when I heard rambunctious kids coming into the locker room and the voice of a timid man saying, "Okay, guys. Now you have to get changed faster. Not like last time. And I'm going to be timing you."

One of the boys responded with, "Okay. Ching Chong banana."

And when the swim coach came into view I saw that he was Asian. I didn't care for this, partly because my wife is Asian and my son is Asian. But also, I just thought it so disrespectful that a little kid would be mouthing off and using stereotypical race related name-calling towards a grown man who was trying to teach these kids how to swim.

It's a good thing they didn't step in a few minutes earlier when I was naked because that would be the worst time to yell at kids, but because I was fully dressed I said, "Which one of you said that to your coach. That wasn't nice."

When one kid said, "Nobody said anything," I was almost positive it was him. What the hell do you mean no one said anything because all four of you kids were shouting as you came in? He doth protested too much, the little punk.

I let the him know that they shouldn't be talking to their coach like that and maybe the coach should be calling their parents to talk about how they have been addressing the guy they have been paying to teach their children. The kid looked pretty scared but moments later they were all four singing the "Power Rangers" theme and none of them were taking any steps towards getting undressed to put on their swimsuits. This coach had zero control over these kids, and it greatly upset me. I hated seeing him getting run on like that by these ungrateful little brats, and I had already ascertained that the kid I got into it with was the ringleader. Without him I'm pretty sure the other three wouldn't be acting nearly as shitty. He is the one that needed to be straightened out, but the coach did nothing. He just let them sing their songs at him and call him names.

Let me tell you, blog friends. We live in a time now where I'm not all that proud to say I'm an American since our president has shined a light on how many folks out here would love to go back to the days of 1950's Mississippi. Mr. Trump is an awful president, but his policies, administration, and behavior brings about opportunities for open conversations with our kids about matters such as race, sexual harassment, and just being civil and having some class. I like to think that my son will show a little more respect, and if I ever catch him acting in a racially insensitive and asshole-ish manner towards an adult like those boys I met the other day, then I have truly failed him as a father.

Sorry if this came off heavy handed today, friends. I'm usually a much more light hearted blogger, as most of you know. I'll get back to fart and dick jokes next time I grab the laptop to do an update.

Have a happy holiday, everyone. Peace on earth and good will to ALL. 

The other day I went for a swim at a gym location and time that was strange to me, and it turns out that is the time when all of the older (perhaps retired) people use the pool. Few were swimming. Most were walking laps up and down. When I stopped on my end to take a break, I looked up to see a heavyset woman barreling her way towards me. Usually you ask someone before sharing a lane, but I'm not one to ever say no. Also, I found it odd that I recognized her as someone who was already in a lane. So, why make the jump into my lane? It turns out she wanted to talk to me while she did her pool-walking-laps.

Her: Am I the only one bothered by this? 

(She motioned towards of the other swimmers)

Me: What?

Her: The rules say for everyone to wear 'proper swim attire. We all have bathing suits. Why can't she put one on.

(Now it was clear to me that she was talking about another woman walking laps with foamy weights wearing garbs in accordance with her religious practice. Looks like I was in the midst of an aquatic holy war)

Me: I don't know.

(At this point I was pulling my goggles back on and trying my best to stay out of it.)

Her: I told the woman that she needs to wear proper swim attire, and she swore at me. She said "great googily-moogily. 

(she didn't actually say this gibberish. She stated some swear words in another language that I didn't recognize. I found it odd that the racist woman cared enough to research the curse words of a culture she hates.)

Me: Yeah, okay . . . 

Her: You know, you can't say anything to anyone anymore without getting arrested, or something. I already told the management about her, and they didn't do anything. 

Me: Okay, I'm going to finish swimming now.

(At this point I looked over at the woman with the religious garbs to see her pumping her foam weights emphatically and muttering angrily to herself. There really was a holy war erupting between these gals. Or perhaps just a Holy Cold War. Either way, I wasn't sticking around to find out if it was going to come to blows with bloody noses gushing all over the joint)

I don't think reporting someone to management is appropriate. The gym can't throw someone out of the gym for wearing what this woman was wearing. First Amendment rights still apply at the gym, right? And how could what someone else swims in possibly bother anyone else? If anything, I could have complained about the lady hopping into my lane without asking and unloading her hate speech at me. And why was she coming at me like I was going to agree with any of it? Just because I was a white male?

The second I hopped out of the pool and opened the locker room door, I found a couple of guys who should have been reported to management. Despite the fact that there is already music playing, they were blasting their own loud rap music with a little stereo while trying to yell over that and a couple of hair dryers to have a conversation the whole locker room had to listen to. Also, the rap music was that auto-tune robot vocals crap that all these rappers use these days. And I hate that shit. So when I come out of the shower to use one of the hair dryers, right when I turn the corner to where they are, I am hit with the awful stench of steamed body odor. These two morons were evidently drying off the stinky clothes they just worked out in with the only two hair dryers! If you ask me, leaving the sweaty clothes on would be far less offensive than heating them up, especially the socks because I think that is the smell that was really permeating all through the immediate area. 

After I got changed, I went back by the hair dryers to see if they were available to see that they were, but the stinky clothes were still on the sink and the stereo was still playing. One of the guys was rapping every word coming from the stereo 30 feet away loudly from his shower. A guy from the front desk came by to ask if it was my radio, and I said, "No. But I bet you can guess whose it is." 

Hand weights Muslim lady is welcome at my gym any time. Steamed sweat socks duo? You two need to learn some gym etiquette. And basic hygiene. And science. And music taste. And just how not to be idiots. And, just maybe work out from home with your robot vocals songs and never expose anyone to your steamed body odor. 

If You See My Friend, Kindly Look Him In the Eye and Hand Him a Shovel.

We have had a big snow storm here in Chicago.  It is in the top five in the city's history.  The other day I got a text from my buddy, LaFontaine, and it was a picture of his car totally submerged in snow.  What happens around here is it snows a foot and a half of powdery fluffy snow.  Then the snow plows come by to clear the streets but they blast the slushy stuff and tons of snow that buries your car.  To put the finishing touch on, then the temperature drops and all of that snow and ice gets hard and frozen all around your ride, freezing your door shut, and freezing the path ahead and behind you.  Then you have to poke your shovel hard into the snow like a pick ax (the plastic ones are no good), and even then your tires will likely spin and smoke will rise from the rubber you are burning off your tires in vain.  You have to budget an extra half hour to an hour in the morning before work just to shovel yourself out, and then you had better keep that shovel in your trunk in case you get stuck again on your way to work.

So LaFontaine later sent a second text saying that he was successful in getting his car free, but he said that that wasn't the hard part.  The hard part was cold calling a white lady (LaFontaine is Black man) a few doors down to let him use her shovel.  I just pictured him saying, "It's cool.  You can just leave it on the porch and go inside and lock the door.  I won't step any closer until you get inside . . ."

Isn't it sad that racism and fear is still so prevalent in the world?  We can't even band together in our hour of need during a storm to help our fellow man without letting our fear and ignorance get in the way?

I think I can see the top of LaFontaine's car!

Did you guys get hit by this beast of a snow storm?  Also, why the F do I live here anyway? . . . 

Jackson, Home of Two Oblivious Racists

Mrs. Noisewater just got back from a business trip in Jackson, Mississippi and encountered two of the most oblivious racist comments of all time.  She is half Asian, by the way, and apparently they don't often encounter races other than African American and Caucasian.  So you get these sorts of things . . .

#1

While at a restaurant, a man she didn't even know walked up to her table to ask her what other language besides English that she spoke.  When she replied that English was the only language she was fluent in, the man was shocked.  What a crazy assumption.  I would have responded "Klingon," and then spouted off some angry grunts.

<iframe width="560" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/sJhPa4lMLDo" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
(I was searching for Klingon youtubes, and while there were plenty that made a lot more sense, I had to go with this one because of the pretty girl.  It takes all the way until 3:25 to get to the Klingon part, but good god. she is hot.  Anyway . . .)

#2

Then Mrs. Noisewater is at a meeting in Jackson, and on the way out she drops a pen.  When she bends down to get it a guy actually said, "Oh, I thought you were bowing."  I laughed my damn ass off when she told me that one.

<iframe width="420" height="315" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/yAHKqtsGZLU" frameborder="0" allowfullscreen></iframe>
(Now, are these fellas bowing or looking for their pens?)

I was working in a not-so-good neighborhood on the West Side of Chicago today, and one of my coworkers stepped across the street to get coffee at a greasy spoon called G & N Breakfast.  The older gentleman who said he was the owner asked her nationality, she told him Irish, and he discerned that she is probably a democrat.  Sloppily shoveling his breakfast into his mouth, he then asked if she worked at the school across the street and asked how she can stand working with all those niggers.  She said that's not a word she is okay with, to which he said it should be fine to say that because they call each other that all the time.  Of course, rather than realizing or caring that he had offended his customer, he went on spouting off anti Black statements and said the N in his business' name stood for niggers and the G for some other racial slur (Roughly 70% of his business would be African American on a day-to-day basis).  She was mad, but remaining calm, she just told him that being Greek, he is only a few shades lighter than those he hates so much.  This made him really mad, and he started spitting his hash browns all over the place while he yelling God knows what as she left.

Later I told the Mexican maintenance man (who I call Amigo and he calls me Amigo) at the work site about the exchange, and he said he has known that guy for years and he's a right prick who yells at his staff and calls them idiots all the time in front of customers.  Amigo said he told the guy he would whip his ass if he ever talked to him like that.  Apparently the owner was a Chicago cop who bought the place since 1959 after getting shot in the arm.  Doesn't sound like his world view has changed much since 1959 . . .

So, if you ever want to get in a time machine and meet a real live racist from the days of the Civil Rights movement, go visit him at G & N Breakfast on the West Side of Chicago.  If you would like to bring along some fire hoses and dogs to turn the tides on him, I certainly would not object.

Grand Dragon Terry

Yesterday while I was at the bar watching American football, my friends with smart phones (mine is dumb) knew the very moment when Terry Bradshaw said that the black Miami running back, Reggie Bush, looked like he was chasing a bucket of chicken.  Terry claims that it was a running joke about his white co-host Jimmy Johnson who loves fried chicken.  The problem is, nobody knows that inside joke, so Terry comes off like a hillbilly racist.

Terry is an idiot.  He isn't funny and he has no tact.  How can you not know that when you make a fried chicken reference about a black guy, you're going to piss people off?  The good news is that his idiocy gave us a lot of laughs at the bar.  And I was laughing through all 3 waitresses that I went through.  Yes.  I closed out 3 tabs - that's how much football and beer I consumed.  Don't think I had any fried chicken, but maybe I did. Long day.