the blogosphere says what?

(A parody, for the uninitiated)

As diversity coordinator at Diversity Today, the magazine for professionals in the diversity industry, I pride myself on my inclusiveness. But I have to admit, it’s not easy for me to hang out with straight people.

So I hesitated when some straight, mostly Caucasian-American colleagues invited me to join them for karaoke last Saturday night. Against my better judgment, I decided to join (ya’ll know how I loves me some karaoke). With Xander off portraying a jester at a Renaissance festival in some redneck county, I didn’t have anything else to do.

At first everything was great. We were all laughing, singing our songs. I stuck to the classics, of course: Kelly, Xtina, Brit Brit …

Then I heard the beginning of “I’ve Been to Paradise,” which is a very special song to me. It’s easily Charlene’s best. It deserves respect.

I jumped to my feet, grabbing the mic from one of the breeders. I was the only one qualified to sing the song. She resisted at first, but I was insistent.

The room got a little tense, but I knew the combination of my voice with those beautiful lyrics would calm everyone.

I bravely sang my little heart out. It was so emotional. My eyes welled with tears as I thought about all of the tragedies I’ve endured. And how I’ve bravely overcome them all.

Hey, you know what paradise is?
It’s a lie, a fantasy we create about people and places as we’d like them to be
But you know what truth is?
It’s that little baby you’re holding, it’s that man you fought with this morning
The same one you’re going to make love with tonight
That’s truth, that’s love …

And how did they respond? By laughing. It like being shot. I felt so alone, like a person from Palestinia living in Isreal.

I was really, really offended.

The next few moments were kind of fuzzy. I remember throwing down the microphone, calling them all bastard people and storming out of the room. I wasn’t going to let them see me cry. They weren’t worthy of my tears.

It’s taken some time to recover. Xander has tried to be understanding, but actors can be so selfish. It’s never about me with him. But he’s trying. We both are.

I’ve received some e-mails from the people who were at the karaoke party. They apologized, but they still don’t get it. Why are straight people so insensitive?

Maybe I can change them. As diversity coordinator at Diversity Today, the magazine for professionals in the diversity industry, maybe I can speak truth to power.

I know this much: they’re all going to have some seminars in their future. I’ll see to that when I return to work tomorrow. Because of their hateful treatment I had to use my 24th mental health day of the year.

In the meantime, no more outings with straight people (get it — I still have my sense of humor, ya’lls!)

rooting against the americans

Interesting bit of channel-flipping after work last night. On one, I watched a report on the plight of Buddha’s noble, peaceful warriors. In Tibet, and less directly, in Burma, the Chinese government has aggressively thwarted their efforts to simply worship as they please.

I switched to ESPN, where LeBron James was discussing his newfound compassion for the suffering in Darfur (genocide sponsored by China). That interview was taped months before the Olympics, when James was practicing some damage control after being criticized for not signing a petition condemning China’s financial support of the Sudanese government.

Now he’s a bit more circumspect. Time to play basketball, you know.

We’re here to win the gold, James said, not to discuss politics. Kobe Bryant was equally feckless, saying, in effect, no one cares what athletes think.

Not so in China. With the Communist regime incorporating free market elements, American sports superstars have emerged as (safely sanitized) household names, especially now with Yao Ming competing against them in the NBA.

The Chinese people assume the American players are mere wards of the state. That’s how it is in their country.

The USOC is encouraging such submission. We’re here to dominate weaker countries, that’s all. Pride, not politics.

And really, what could be more inspiring than seeing a bunch of multi-millionaires unite to defeat a team of Lithuanians (whose center stands 6’7) by three points? I’m sure it’ll come of great comfort to the monks in exile. Maybe they’ll be inspired to fight harder. Get some guns and shit.

Better to see Americans, famous worldwide, standing up for what’s right, risking nothing more than some endorsement cash they would hardly miss. Think that might draw some attention? Hell, it might even touch a patriotic nerve or two.

Just a few words, or even a symbolic gesture — however choreographed — would send a message of encouragement to the oppressed. I bet they’d appreciate it.

Too bad there’s not a shoe deal attached.

Assuming none, I hope the Lithuanians kick our (their) ass.

“braves win! braves win! braves win! braves win … braves win!!”

Cabrera hits, Sid slides, Braves win (Skip’s signature call).

I was at that game, so I didn’t hear the radio broadcast. Fortunately it was replayed repeatedly as I drove home that night, and I remember screaming and pumping my fist, as euphoric as I’ve ever been. Even shed a few tears. Ridiculous, perhaps, but Braves fans will understand.

(Cynics are embarrassingly sentimental.)

When I arrived in Athens around 2 in the morning, the streets were still lined with fans. I drove down College Ave., high-fiving the assorted drunks.

“I was there. I was there!” I bragged.

Thanks to Skip’s call, so were they.