Unpacking Baggage

Just going through my luggage, clearing out some things to make way for enlightenment

It took Bloopty to get me to say something. I will not have her disappointed at work on a Friday afternoon, after a two-hour, wine-drenched lunch because she has nothing to read. It is my duty to keep her amused, even though I know I'm no where near as amusing as she.

Life in Chocolate City remains interesting and, despite gentrification, I still get daily reminders that this town is very much negro. Today's reminder came, as they often do, during my Metro commute to work. At one of the 'hood stops, a family of four boarded. It was great to see the young mom and dad taking their two daughters to school. The girls, approximately 4 and 7 were neatly cornrowed, acceptably talkative and very well behaved. The parents were actually engaging them in conversation. At last, hope for the black family.

They sat on the row behind me, each parent taking an aisle seat, allowing the girls to have window seats. As I eavesdropped, the conversation shifted and the father started discussing the fact that he needed shoes to match his new brown suit. Perhaps he spied my chocolate brown Kenneth Cole boots that I bought on sale at Marshall Fields before they became Macy's. The boots are hot! Wifey told him he should get a nice brown wingtip. Then he said something that forced me to look up and make sure I was on DC's Green Line headed toward Columbia Heights and not Chicago's Red Line lumbering alongside the Dan Ryan (South Side!).

"I wish I had some yellow gators."

I almost gagged, but I held it together.

"For an interview?" Wifey asked. I could hear in her voice that she wanted to laugh, but she loves that man. She patiently let him explain that they would gain the attention of the interviewer. I couldn't see, but I felt her nodding her head in agreement. She, like I, probably knew that they might gain him attention, but not a job. As they exited the train at the U Street/Cardozo stop, I prayed that she would talk him into the brown wing tip.

The voters have also selected a new [black] mayor. Like the current, mayor, he's light and bright, but thankfully he doesn't look like an undertaker in a bow tie. He does wear a trademark fedora. I suppose it's charming, but he looks like a kid who raided dad's closet.

I am glad to report that Unpacking Baggage has reached its natural conclusion. I believe I have emptied the bags and have a handle on what I need for this trip. Sometime soon I will post the link to my next progression on this journey. The title, New Growth, is inspired by all the ladies in my life. While it's kind of redundant, those two words make a sister spring into action to get rid of that kink or gray at the root.

I'm springing into action too.