Observations

I find it surreal that Michael Jackson is dead but don't mourn him any more than I mourn Farrah Fawcett. Which is not to say I don't think their passings are sad - the end of a life is always sad, especially when cut short before we feel its time is up, but I suppose that's not our decision to make. Who knows why God takes some people when their lives seem unfinished, yet prolongs the live of others even to the point that they can no longer live dignified lives on their own. I've got to add that to the list of questions I want to ask God.

But I digress. This post is not about theology or the meaning of life or the sudden finality of death.

More than just his passing and the end of a cultural icon, what makes me sad (not sad for MJ per se, but sad for the situation) is that for nearly a decade now, MJ was crucified by the media as a looney, unbalanced child molester ("wacko jacko") yet with his passing the same media now hails him as a god of pop music and culture and the world mourns his death. It kind of made me feel sad thinking how...sort of wasted all of this praise is (at least for MJ himself, because he is dead and will never know that at the end, at least, he was loved). MJ was ostracized in the final years of his life, yet embraced in his death. And this makes me a little bit sad. I'd rather be loved in life and forgotten/hated in death than hated in life and loved in death. Because what matters is how we treat each other in life, the here and now.

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My favorite MJ song was not "Thriller" or "Beat It" or "Billy Jean" or any of the classics from the '80s. My favorite MJ song was actually "Black or White" which is an indication of my bad taste in music and penchant for cheesy, idealistic lyrics. I truly, honestly believe that one's color does not matter. Or rather, that one's color should not matter. The reality is that the first thing we notice about someone, other than their sex, is their race. So when I say that color doesn't matter, what I mean is that I don't think color in any way defines one's character, or the breadth of their intelligence, their potential to become high-functioning members of society or their moral compass. Your character defines your character. Your intelligence defines your intelligence. What you achieve with your potential defines your potential. Your morals define your moral compass.

I don't dislike people based on their race. But I do dislike people based on...their character, their sense of responsibility (and lack of sense of entitlement), how they treat others, how hard they try to be a contributing member of society.

Let me spit it out: I dislike ghetto people. First, refrain from impugning any racial slant to that statement because then YOU are assuming that "ghetto" refers to a certain kind of people. I think white, black, Asian, Latino, South Asian, European...basically people of every race, can be ghetto.

And what I mean by ghetto, though hard to define exactly, is basically this: I mean people who don't take responsibility for themselves but blame everyone and everything else for their lack of success. People who feel entitled to help from others. People who lack respect for other people and other people's things. People who lack class - and by this, I don't mean anything related to money or financial status. I mean class. The best example I can give is The Real Housewives of New Jersey, which I couldn't watch after two episodes because it gave me a headache. They have money, lots and lots of money. But not a single one of them have an iota of class.

So what is ghetto? Ghetto is looting stores and setting people's cars on fire to protest something that had nothing to do with those storeowners or cars. Ghetto is robbing people and thinking that's ok. Ghetto is cutting in line or not paying your bill or shoplifting or doing anything else that is WRONG, but then getting all pissed at the person who confronts you about it like you were right in the first place. Ghetto is feeling entitled to welfare or food stamps or other handouts without ever making an honest attempt to take responsibility for your own life. Ghetto is using your small children to make a buck - either by selling them into prostitution/slavery (not so much in the US, but in other countries) or making them sell stuff to passersby.

Note: I don't think being poor is ghetto. I know people who are poor yet live honest, respectable lives - and these people, I greatly admire. So when I see an illegal immigrant working two 40-hour minimum wage jobs to feed his family, that is NOT ghetto. Living in the ghetto does not make you ghetto. Being poor does not make you ghetto. Being ghetto makes you ghetto. And I strongly dislike ghetto people.

I bring this up because of two things I encountered today. I parked next to the Free Clinic today to go to the gym and there was a long line of people waiting to receive free packaged lunches. There were the usual suspects: the homeless, the drug addicts, the mentally ill (often all three of the above). But there were also normal looking people - punk-looking street kids (the kind that hang out on Telegraph), normal looking well-dressed guys on their nice-looking bikes chatting away in line as if they were waiting at Top Dog rather than the Free Clinic. And this irked me. I have no problem with the down & out getting help. But I have a problem with normal people who should not abuse the system, abusing the system. Second, I ventured into Oaktown today, the first time since the BART shooting incident caused looting and rioting. Prior to the BART incident, there had been a string of armed robberies in 10 or more Oakland restaurants in broad daylight - the robbers would just walk in the restaurant, pull their guns out then take everyone's money. This happened (to my knowledge) at least 3 times at a popular Korean restaurant and since then I have absolutely refused to go there. Am I being irrational? Perhaps. But I've been robbed at gunpoint (my senior year in college) and it is an experience I never ever ever ever (ever to the google power) want to experience again. Anyway, my venture into Oaktown was fine. Fun actually, because I got to watch El Hombre play ice hockey (definitely the most GRRRR manly sport, in my opinion). But was I a little bit scared to be in Oaktown? Yessir.