dispatch from thanksgiving weekend, 2010, new york city, america.
today is black friday. los tigres from the block left for the stores straight from coronas, the sun ain’t nowhere near up, but he’s warming up his yankees themed navy blue ride because it’s 3am, perfect time to dip through the shopping list and avoid the rush of lines. black friday, a capitalist date at the polls, cash registers log our votes, cash from grips of the broke, gonna get these deals if it chokes.
yesterday was thanksgiving, so official out here in brooklyn. started off visiting my girls who rep for pinoy and chicano pride. hollered at my trini dude and his blue nose pit bull, he’s hitting that spliff to the quick. shrugged on my rabbit fur coat and a kangol tipped over one eye, butterscotch platform boots make me 6 feet high. seeped in the sweet tea of carribbean-american elders in their majestic ditmas park homes. she must have broken so many hearts in her day, praly still breaking em, and she’s telling me in that voice full of gravity and light about how back then women who fought for women’s rights were called womanists. did i mention the food? from the dip to the wine, to the rib eye, the salmon could have made a grown turkey cry. and the pie. oh the pie. then it’s back over to the block for pernil and the rest of the football game with the honduran and boricua family. firecracker discussions on franky ruiz, freestlye music, the best salseros, the best mc’s, the imagery that binds women in hip hop now.
that’s america, that’s what we pledge to honor. the wonder of the whole world in our homes. and a 50% off price tag, of course.