The Table of Brotherhood and Karaoke

I have to look this up on Wikipedia or another source of questionable reliability but I am not sure if Texas calls itself a State or a Republic, this changes depending on the Texan. I do know that in Texas they put the shape of Texas on everything, except toilet paper because that is a class three Messing with Texas. The most annoying part of the ubiquitous Texas shapes is that they never, not once put a “you are here” on the tiny Texas shapes. That would make them helpful because it is not like Texas is dainty like Rhode Island or Delaware.

Kentucky has no such predilection – but it wouldn’t hurt Kentucky a bit to have “you are here” signs dotting the state. I have been carousing Louisville with my friend from High School (who has assumed the name ‘Tennessee’) and more than once it would have been helpful if there were directional signs when you needed one.

My sense of direction leads me to believe that I am not only descendant from the ancient Hebrews but directly from Moses himself. This poor sense of direction is compounded by Louisville being incredibly disorganized compared to other cities its size and stature, or being barely organized at all. Poor Tennessee has been riding around with someone who has only a general idea of where he is going, or worse, getting directions for me and figuring it out on her own.

The first time we got together the other Christopher organized us and he did not show up, Tennessee was late, Amanda found out too late. I sat outside the chain restaurant – where I don’t like to eat anyway – laughing to myself because it was not unlike when I lived in Louisville ‘hanging out’ with my friend who wasn’t – when Tennessee called to confirm her directions with me so I could get her more lost. Thirty minutes before the place was scheduled to close Tennessee made her arrival. At this point we had no idea that the other Christopher was going to stand us up. He said he was working, but I have no idea what kind of work a person does that late at night*.

It was good to see Tennessee, although I don’t call her that – I insist on calling her Barry because I have a high, annoying voice and since I make fun of everyone I decided to start calling Tennessee, “Barry White.” More like, “Marion Barry” but we won’t get into her problems in High School – I’m just glad she found the Lord before the Devil found her, praise the Lord**. We spent dinner going over old times, gossiping about people who weren’t there and trading rumors we had heard about each other. I had heard all the rumors about me since I had started them in a desperate attempt to seem interesting.

We then rambled around Louisville waiting for the other Christopher to call us when he got off work and ended up looking for a Starbucks or a bar to while away the time. We flirted with the idea of going to his job and disturbing him but we could not find his office and ended up in the projects downtown. Tennessee was horrified and afraid and I was unperturbed. I had no idea where we were; the projects look nice at night. She’s just lucky I did not stick my head out the window and ask one of the people standing on the corner for directions.

I do not know the Louisville bars but I do know that Bardstown Road is the place to find one if you’re looking. What I did not know, or forgot, is that Tennessee is African American and this is Kentucky. We wandered the place twice and finally found a bar where the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners were sitting down together at the table of brotherhood and sing karaoke***.

Tennessee was very concerned about people’s reaction to her being African American, which is something I forget is an open problem for some people in the South. In New England we are closeted about our bigotry and in the Southwest we only distrust people from different language groups and relegate color to be unimportant. I was really unconcerned that I was cavorting with a black woman but I was uncomfortable with her wearing a turban.

I realize that it was a ‘Nubian Wrap’ but this is Kentucky and that ‘wrap’ is a ‘turban’ and a turban would make her Al Qaida. She was safe on Bardstown Road as an African American, it was her terrorist costume that was going to get us both killed. I wanted to shout, “It’s all right, I’m a Jew” but I’m confident that was just as foolhardy.

Tennessee sang karaoke but I demurred. I am not going to make an ass of myself unless someone has a video camera on me. There are too many things that happen in my life that words and pictures do you adequately illustrate. I feel like you are being cheated by this lack of technology at my disposal. Tennessee brought the house down. She sang an R&B song; I would have thought it funnier if she sang a song out of character. Everyone else at karaoke was taking it seriously and they were seriously bad. Tennessee was brilliant and at the drop of a hat gave a better performance than many professional singers do prepared. She brought down the house, she wowed everyone, it was inspirational.

Friday night we finally hooked up with the other Christopher. We went to his house for his partner’s birthday party. I have a lot of chutzpah and went not knowing his partner and when I figured out that I had time to go to the party I went without a gift. In fact I knew two people at that party and went anyway, usually my social anxiety helps me find an excuse but I knew Christopher couldn’t avoid us. He is, after all, one of the people I used to cut school with – something I recommend to everyone excluding my own students. It was a lovely time and tonight the gang is getting back together again, this time in deepest darkest Kentucky. We will see how that goes.

* I am only making an issue of this so you unfairly infer that Christopher is a dirty whore. He really had to work; I’m being a snark because I can.
** Again, I am taking liberties with the truth because no one can stop me. Complaints should be made to Alex Vance or Kristy Waterman. Alex Vance will console you and say, “I warned him about that,” Kristy will enroll you in the “Christopher needs a big tall glass of shut the hell up” club and tell you the things I’ve said about her, and that will perm your hair
*** Before you knot your panties eight ways to Tuesday, that’s a quote from a speech that if you are American and you do not recognize it you are concurrently illiterate

Comments

[pixeltopia]

B.T. (before Texas) I had an area in my backyard for intellectual discourse, and by intellectual discourse I obviously mean gossip. I couldn't call it the table of brotherhood, because, well, there was no table. But I did call it the "circle of combined knowledge and shared friendship..."