I drank the Obama Kool-aid

Growing up in the hot filthy Louisiana sun, I thought it was a good day when my grandma let me make the “kulayed” or correctly “Kool Aid.” I would run into the kitchen, grab the big glass container, and make the agonizing decision of grape or red. If it was fried chicken it was always red. If we were eating ribs or pigs feet, it was usually grape. Sometimes I mixed them together to make a dirty purple surprise. My kulayed recipe was usually 3 liters of water and 8 cups of sugar. It was like drinking diabetes. The kids loved it; the adults usually diluted it with bathtub rum or something. I guess that’s how MD 20/20 was born. I liked how the red or grape color "lipstick" the lips. After a few cups of red my lips were the shade of classy hookers in the red-light districts of New Orleans or deep black liked I smoked crack. Those were the days.

I have this friend from college. He can be somewhat of an asshole sometimes. He always mentions a person race for no reason. He calls his black friend, the black friends as if for some reason he needs to mention the disclaimer before telling the story i.e. (I’m going to Chicago to visit my black friend. You know he’s black). I often wonder does he mention me that way. I’m like if you visiting a Chicago friend, why not just say that. Why tell me he is black? I don’t give a fuck. I asked him when he is online with me does he tell everybody I’m his black Yahoo messenger buddy like I wake up in the morning say to myself what a great day to be black again. I don’t tell anybody he is Mexican. Maybe it’s because I like the element of surprise like guess who is coming to dinner. Does it even matter?

This friend in casual conversation asks me if I liked Kool Aid. I told him that I was black, of course I liked Kool Aid. I also like greens, fried chicken, and watermelon and pigs feet. I’m southern. I asked him did he like Tequila, cheap beer, fry all his food and wrap it in tortillas with beans and cheese. I asked him did he like driving in a car with twenty of his closet relatives stuffed like sweating sardines. I asked him if he was in America legally. He didn’t find my rebuttal too humorous.

A person culture can have double meaning. Fried chicken became a negative staple in black life. Fried chicken has a longer history for blacks more so than KFC or Popeye’s. It was the meat that was the cheapest and lasted the longest without being refrigerator. Its roots are deep in slavery. The slave-owners at the time didn’t feed their slaves caviar and good champagne instead slaves often had to eat what others would not eat like the insides of the pig, it’s feet, make cornbread that would last a couple of weeks. It was “eat or starve.” I can’t pick cotton on an empty stomach. It’s called soul food for a reason. If you don’t feed me right, the sole of my foot might get stuck up your ass.

A person culture can also be used against him. I liked in the book “Invisible Man” when the main character has to make peace with liking sweet potato pie. What was once a childhood delight suddenly as an adult became a racial footnote? I know the feeling. When I was a kid one 4th of July I was sitting on the porch eating my cold piece of watermelon. Sometimes in Louisiana the white tourists like to browse through the ghetto for some fucking reason. Anyways, the white couple wanted to take a picture of me eating my piece of watermelon. I like attention so of course I had no problem. It wasn’t until my grandmother came running out of the house, swinging a frying pan, snatching the camera and slamming it to the floor. I didn’t understand why she was so upset. She called them every name but a child of god. She grabbed me by the arm and made me sit in my room for the rest of the evening. I didn’t understand. I thought all the nice white couple wanted was a picture of a black kid with nappy wool hair, no shoes or shirt chewing at his watermelon like the sun melts ice. What was the harm? I understand now.

During the President election so many Fox news pundits kept referring to Obama effect as the Obama Kool-Aid. Even on the view, Elizabeth Hasselbeck would refer to the other three women as drinking the Obama Kool-aid. I felt since the term was originally phrased by Bill O’Reiley the suggestion was double negative. It was not just pointing out the fact in patronizing humor that Obama was black without saying I guess you bitches are drinking the Obama malt liquor. It was underhanded. Also, it tried to link those who supported Obama as being brainless followers. It was trying to sneakily say that voting for Obama would lead America off a cliff. They kept saying he wasn’t ready as if he still needed to reformed, one of the favorite Republican words.

The history of “Don't Drink The Kool-Aid” goes back to November of 1978 when the world was shocked by the suicide deaths of 913 members of the People's Temple cult. Jim Jones, the leader of the group, convinced his followers to move to Jonestown, Guyana, a remote community that Jones carved out of the South American jungle and named after himself. The mass suicide occurred after U.S. Rep. Leo Ryan of California and a team of reporters visited the compound to investigate reports of abuse. After some members tried to leave with the congressman’s group, Jim Jones had Ryan and his entourage ambushed at the nearby airstrip. He then ordered his flock to commit suicide by drinking grape-flavored Kool-Aid laced with potassium cyanide. Jonestown tragedy is the saying, “Don’t drink the Kool-Aid.” This has come to mean, "Don’t trust any group you find to be a little on the kooky side."
I find most Republicans a little on the kooky side. The past election was so corrupt and mean spirited. They called Obama every word but the child of god. At first he was a Muslim, terrorists, socialists and then communist. It was as if they were Jim Jones afraid of losing power so they tried to convince their entire base to drink their Kool-Aid.

It’s fear that leads us to the dark. I’m so happy America didn’t fall for the same ole tricks. Tricks or for kids. Voting consciously is for adults. Obama was right. Don’t boo the opponent, just vote.
Yet, for my own humor, I started thinking if Obama was a Kool-Aid what flavor would he be? I really don’t see Obama drinking Kool-aid. I see him more as a tea drinker or coffee. He is a health freak.

But if Obama was a Kool-aid these are my suggestions for General Mills:

Ashy knees Negro flavor – a mixture of grape and red, a good dirty purple.
Hawaiian Punch funkdafied – Black cherry red mixed with pineapple for his Hawaiian roots and a James Brown split of banana.
Ghetto booty mullato – Lemon flavored spiked with cherry grape.
Obama Tropicana elected – mix all the flavors together and see what color happens.

If I was a Kool Aid what flavor would I be? These are my suggestions.

Drunk – half rum, some sugar and lemon
Bacardi grape sublime – Grape Kool-Aid with bathhouse rum
Liquor – Fuck the Kool-Aid, just give me a shot.
Hare on the dog orange – Orange Kool-Aid and orange vodka.

In other words, now that I’m a grown man, I like my Kool-aid with as much liquor in it as possible vs. sugar and served with a nice fat blunt.