THE VOICE FROM THE OTHER SIDE: A JEW IN BLACKFACE

When I think about it, I really should know better by now. Strange things come flying out of her mouth, and, because she has Asperger syndrome, conversational trains from several weeks or months ago suddenly restart. Sometimes right where they left off, though at other times they head in an entirely new direction.

My roommate's chit-chat methodology is mostly uncharted territory.
She used to be my girlfriend, and even then I was often baffled.
More than five years later, I'm still frequently surprised.

She isn't crazy, you just have to be there at the beginning.
Data enters, percolates, ferments, sprouts wings.
Then comes out several month later.
In a strange new guise.

If the information is weird, she's a sponge.


So I should not have reacted the way I did when the voice from the other side of the table, hidden by both her computer and mine, exclaimed indignantly "a Jew in blackface?!?!"

"What?"

"You heard me; a Jew in blackface."

"Oh I think that's a marvelous idea! Is that what he plans to do for Halloween? I can see it now; he'll be rolling down the street in his wheelchair, singing spirituals. It will be EVER so entertaining!"

"Huh, what the heck are you talking about?"

"You know, what Wheelie Boy is going to do for a costume."

"Blackface?!?!"

"Yeah!"

"You want to see him killed, don't you?"

"No, not at all. Whatever gave you that idea? I have NO intention of being anywhere nearby."


So help me, I really did think she was reacting to one of Wheelie Boy's brilliant plans, seeing as he is the man she sees nowadays.
And honestly, I was just being supportive.
He's Jewish, by the way.

[Much more Jewish than I could ever be, and angular of chin, too. Although far less rabbinic, seeing as he's entirely unfamiliar with Talmud-Torah, speaks not a word of Yiddish, Aramaic, or Hebrew, and knows almost nothing about traditions, minhag, halacha, or even kashrus.
I, on the other hand, am a smart monkey.
Albeit utterly goyish.]


And you will have to admit: the idea of a Jewish healthnut weightlifter in a wheelchair rolling down the street singing spirituals with his face painted pitch-black is unique. Wow. Creative, inspiring, and even uplifting.
Makes it understandable why she's seeing that putz.

She admires courageous people.

He's in a wheelchair.

And Jewish.


Everyone who knows me understands that I am nothing if not warmly supportive. My sense of empathy is enormous, and I just want everyone to reach their fullest potential. I recognize the hidden talents within.
You are a pupa until you become a butterfly.
Break free of your pupal casing.
De-cocoon yourself.
Flutter.


Well, truth be told, I thought it was just another one of her boyfriend's crazy brain-farts. He was the only Jew I could think of at that moment that I know she knows, so the connection seemed logical.

For her sake, he should put on blackface and sing.

But what she was actually talking about was Al Jolson, whom she had been reading about two months ago. Mr. Jolson reveled in blackface, and made a fantabulous reputation for himself performing thus.
It was what Bush called "a kinder gentler era".
Which really means batshit crazy.
And viciously racist.


My apartment mate is now convinced that I would conspire for her present boyfriend's death, if the opportunity presented itself. She also suspects that I will telephone him with suggestions out of the blue. Knowing that the dear man has a streak of innocent credulity. And that I am persuasive.
Why else would I imagine Wheelie Boy in blackface?
Singing spirituals at Fisherman's Wharf.

I really think he should do it.



AFTERWORD

She's got Aspergers. Her boyfriend also has Aspergers, far worse.
And I'm on the spectrum too, but only borderline, very slight.
Asperger co-dependent, or Asperger enabling.

I am not a mean-spirited person.

Blackface, heh heh.

Apparently he doesn't celebrate Halloween.
I think it would be enlightening for him.
A new learning experience.




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