Irish Stew, Ginseng and Compact.

HEY HEY HEY HEY HEY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Today I was thinking about the phrase "Do what you love, and you will never work a day in your life." It can have many meanings depending on the frame of mind of the reader. Just think; if what you really love to do is stay in your bed, drink gravy and light your farts, and you really put your mind to these goals....You certainly will never work a day in your life.. Oh dear.

I have never considered myself to be self centered (save in the gastronomical sense...Coincidentally one of the seven senses I appeal to) but then again, I tend to think of the opinions of others as being less important or correct then my own.. Opinions are very personal, because they come from our experiences and people more intelligent than us, who we like to say we agree with. For instance, if someone came up and told me that store brand medicated powder was equal to Gold Bond, I would laugh self righteously and tell them that they were much mistaken, and that Craig Ferguson agrees with me..

Today I realized that I am a racist... Let me explain. Not the sort of cross burning sheet wearing racist, but more of a not-on-purpose racist. If I were to be walking down a street at night by myself, and I happened upon a group of African Americans; I would be more apprehensive then if I had met their Caucasian counterparts.. Why is this so? When I was growing up in NJ, our next door neighbors/ my friends were Hispanics.. When I caught my first fish, it was a black kid who lived a few doors down who helped me reel it in. Our area was positively multicultural/diverse/ all the things you would expect 30 miles from New York City.. When I lived in England, one of my best friends was Jewish and another was Peruvian... But on top of all that, my recent paternal family tree, which is as Irish as stew has more than one person of African heritage entwined in it's branches. It can never be good when someone lists their diversity credentials.. But they are part of the reason why this is a confusing subject for me.. I have no hatred for anyone based on race.. Or anything else. Just a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that something is not quite right. Of course, once I get to know someone of another race, this completely dissipates, yet there it is.. I am not going to mention my parents.. They might read this.. But I know my maternal grandfather openly hated everyone. Perhaps it is not just me.. I have been told through public education for years that such opinions are bad, but perhaps what is worse is pretending that they do not exist, until one day someone cuts you off and you go all Kramer on them. But where do these feelings come from? Is there some Freudian explanation?... I hope not.. I cannot really think of anyone who's opinion I truly value who espouses racist rhetoric.. I have never been beat up by a black kid, so that only leaves the genetic option I guess. Honesty is important.. That was pretty honest I thought, and though many of you may stop reading future posts, I would encourage you not to do so..

The end......