He Is Everyone

I'm sure that you've been inundated today with the news that it's been 40 years since Martin Luther King Jr's assassination.

And you've probably heard his "I Have A Dream" speech many times. I've included it below if you're interested in listening to it again...

It never fails to give me chills.

I remember the time when I met Coretta Scott King and one of their sons. I was actually at Oprah's crib in Montecito. She had invited me over for some beans and juice. And then, she made me bring the juice.

She did have a family recipe for tomato pie that was unbelievable and to this day, I wish I had it.

I was actually working at Oprah's house. It was a lunch that she was putting on for close friends and family for the weekend celebration of her 50th Birthday a few years back. I was working as a bartender and server at the time to make some extra cash.

And I was assigned Oprah's table.

And I almost shit my pants.

The patio and house were full of people that should ONLY appear in the television set. I kept wanting to poke them. I just wanted to reach out and see if my finger turned to fuzz and static and disappeared somehow into the screen that MUST be in front of them.

But alas, I did no such thing.

Although, I DID see Natalie Cole's butt crack that day. And that was a little disturbing.

And it smelled questionable.

And it tasted worse.

My recollection of my interaction with Oprah and some other celebrities should be saved for a different post. Because, I have to say, that the highlight of my day wasn't Oprah, or Tom Hanks, or Rita Wilson, or Miss Cole's bare bootie, though they were all very high on the list. But rather, it was the moment that I looked up and saw Coretta Scott King and one of Martin Luther King Jr's sons. They were feet away. And they were going to be sitting at Oprah's table.

At MY table.

I wasn't just about to shit my pants, I was about to shit someone else's pants. Mine and whomever was the unlucky devil standing behind me. Probably Diane Sawyer.

That's all I needed; to have explosive diarrhea at Oprah's house all over Diane Sawyer.

I felt weak in my knees. And I stood transfixed for a moment. I wanted to fully acknowledge the profound history that was standing in front of me.

Coretta Scott King; radiant and beautiful...and REAL.

I gathered my senses and welcomed both of them. I slipped them both a roofie and my number, hoping to have my way with one or both of them later, but sadly, neither one called. Someone else probably received the benefit of my roofie slippage...maybe Stedman and Oprah and Gayle.

I'll never know...

But, that's okay. They didn't have to call on me. It wasn't a carnal knowledge that I needed to seek. But, a brotherhood that I felt.

It was truly an honor to wait on them. To be their bitch. They were so pleasant and polite. And as their brother from another mother, I sincerely appreciate their service and that of Dr. King to our society. I feel like in an almost indescribable way, they're mine.

And in a way that I will never be able to communicate to them, I'm theirs.

For while I'm around, in my corner of the world, I'll live my life to my dying day so that NO ONE EVER is left out. Ever. That we're all in this together. That somehow, you're all mine. And somehow, I'm yours.

Am I delusional?

Maybe.

Am I idealistic?

Absolutely.

And that's my dream. That's how I roll. And I believe that it's no different from Dr. King's.

And now, this country has an incredible opportunity. To share in one big dream. For Dr. King had a vision of us living as one...

And Senator Obama is not just black. He's also white. And although he does not represent all ethnic groups in particular, he does know what it's like to be marginalized, to be left behind. And the integrity and strong character that erupts from someone who has persevered such adversity, to my hopeful heart that is afraid of saying so, for fear of being broken, he is everyone.

And to me, that is everything.