[Note: I will use a certain term below which is offensive to many blacks. Of course, I don't mean to inflame any negative emotions or to taunt anyone but I merely use this term to illustrate an odd situation that happened to me playing basketball one day. I mention it because I would like to lessen the severity of the objectionable term and hope that this may contribute to that end. If the reader wishes to avoid seeing this term, which is a mutation of the Spanish and French terms for black, negra, then they are urged to discontinue reading now. I have italicized this term in the same way that foreign language terms are italicized under normal editorial guidelines.]
One day in Baltimore I was involved in a game with nine other black guys; in other words, I was the only white guy on either team. And on this particular day, it so happened that I was having a fantastic game. It's something that at some point happens to just about everyone who has a hobby or other game they enjoy wherein practically everything happens exactly as it is supposed to. Almost everyone experiences this: golfers and bowlers and probably bridge players, too and it's nothing more than dumb luck. I am by no means a better player than the nine other guys in that particular game in Baltimore that day, but it just happened that every one of my shots hit the mark--even the most awkward and off-balance of them.
Monday, April 30, 2012
Call Me Al
In 1986 Paul Simon release a song called, "Call me Al." It has special meaning to me because although few people use that nickname for me today, some of those dearest to my heart call me Al. I had a geography teacher in 8th grade who called me Al and in that class was a person with whom I would form a lifelong friendship and whose family would eventually come to call me one of their own.
They call me "Al".
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Term of Endearment on the Basketball Court
You may want to refer to another post on basketball and race, which I wrote as a kind of introduction to these kinds of things.
Back in the 1980s, I was playing a lot of basketball and as always, I noticed a few language trends. One of them was the use of the familiar term, "cuz" by one player toward another. I assume it is a short form for "cousin" but that didn't mean the players had a common grandparent. It was for lack of a better description, a term of endearment. I suppose it could be compared to the 1970s use of the terms, brother or bro. It sounds corny today but people did talk that way back then.
One day I was playing at a particular playground and remember one particular player referred to almost everyone as cuz. He didn't seem to have any discretion or sense of over-usage of slang or maybe he had just learned the term himself earlier that week and couldn't get it out of his head. In any case, I was the only white guy there and waiting for the next game, which I had called. This cousin-of-everyone was in the current game and while I waited for next, I watched and listened out of curiosity to find out that he referred to every player (teammate and opponent) with that term. He offered direction to other players by saying things like, "I'm open, cuz," or "over here, cuz," or "this way, cuz," to everyone in the game.
My experience at that particular court had been that pickup games were normally played until 13 points so when one of the teams scored the 13th basket, I stepped on to claim next game. But they kept playing and the extended-family-guy pointed out to me that the local custom was that the first game to kick off the evening was usually played until 16 points. He said to me, "Game goess to 16, Chief." I wondered briefly why he didn't call me cuz, but it made sense. There was no way we shared any immediate relatives--at least as far as he was concerned.
Back in the 1980s, I was playing a lot of basketball and as always, I noticed a few language trends. One of them was the use of the familiar term, "cuz" by one player toward another. I assume it is a short form for "cousin" but that didn't mean the players had a common grandparent. It was for lack of a better description, a term of endearment. I suppose it could be compared to the 1970s use of the terms, brother or bro. It sounds corny today but people did talk that way back then.
One day I was playing at a particular playground and remember one particular player referred to almost everyone as cuz. He didn't seem to have any discretion or sense of over-usage of slang or maybe he had just learned the term himself earlier that week and couldn't get it out of his head. In any case, I was the only white guy there and waiting for the next game, which I had called. This cousin-of-everyone was in the current game and while I waited for next, I watched and listened out of curiosity to find out that he referred to every player (teammate and opponent) with that term. He offered direction to other players by saying things like, "I'm open, cuz," or "over here, cuz," or "this way, cuz," to everyone in the game.
My experience at that particular court had been that pickup games were normally played until 13 points so when one of the teams scored the 13th basket, I stepped on to claim next game. But they kept playing and the extended-family-guy pointed out to me that the local custom was that the first game to kick off the evening was usually played until 16 points. He said to me, "Game goess to 16, Chief." I wondered briefly why he didn't call me cuz, but it made sense. There was no way we shared any immediate relatives--at least as far as he was concerned.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Limits of Charity
Living in the city, I see quite a few homeless people spending days, weeks, months and even years on the street. As I walk to my office I pass several homeless men, many of whom have been on the same street corner for several years. But in my daily movement throughout my urban environment I also pass many others who I have never seen and will probably never see again.
Like many others, I feel guilty when I avert my eyes or shake my head and silently look at them asking me for a handout. In recent years I have felt more and more charitable but not towards these people. I leave large tips lately, not for excellent service but after I think for a few minutes about the life of the person serving me, their economic status and uncertainty and their obvious desire to have more in their life than the job they have serving me. I have also noticed myself giving more and more to strangers in other spheres as well. But unfortunately the homeless get very little from me.
Why? Well I have thought about it a good deal. If I were to stop and speak to the street beggar I might say that I can give him some money without suffering any perceptible hardship--I have a bank account full of money, after all. And not only can I give him a dime or quarter today, but I could probably give a dollar every day for the remainder of my working life and I wouldn't suffer for it.
But should I? And if I gave a dime or a dollar every day to one gentleman panhandler, which would it be? Why choose one over another?
This may be fuel for the argument that instead of individual, ad-hoc charity, we ought to all pool our money and give it to either the government or to a non-profit to be used in some form of assistance for the poor. Then we wouldn't have to make these decisions on how much, how often and to whom. And further, we can assume that non-profits at least know something about helping the poor get back on their feet and they would channel the money to its most favorable use, eliminating any danger of someone buying liquor or drugs with the coins he saves up.
I brought up this question one time with a man who asked me for money on the street one day. I don't remember exact details but I did say to him that I see half a dozen homeless men every day and that I could give them all my money if I wanted to, but should I? And if not, when? His answer was that I should give when I feel like it, when I feel charitable. I guess he was saying that charity is an emotional decision, not a rational one.
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