DSP 2016 POST OF THE YEAR CANDIDATES

No, but he could do what I do to keep his hands fresh and supple.

 

That's my fault.

 

coco butter, pure lavender oil, and a constant habit of removing dead skin or sometimes not yet dead skin
and i never used gloves when lifting or working
makes skin weak

 

amen brother

 

Sure
I dont get them.
And my mom and dad didnt get them much either.
Both worked hard.
Maybe we just got strong mexican skin.
We never wear sunscreen either.
Well we did for a few summers as a kid for the smell. We thought thats why all the "rich" white people used it. Cuz it smelled sweet.

 

yes
a racist thread would be redundant

 

You didnt read it well.
It was past tense.
When i was a kid, when my mom was a recent immigrant, when the US was paradise and white people angels.
You have no idea what racism is. Me saying that is an empty statement because i dont know you.
But you have no idea.
Having opinions about other races is not racism.
Specially when those are positive ideas.
My family reveres white people.
Ronald Reagan is almost a holy man to them. He gave Salvadorians during the civil war amnesty to come to the US.
So all my cousins and uncles came here as refugees.
I had George Bush pictures in my living room for a long long time.

Rich to us was not sharing a 1 bedroom apt, not having your mom work all day, leave before sunup and come home near midnight every day from her two jobs as a servant. Not receiving welfare and being afraid of answering the phone or opening the door because it might be CPS or welfare office checking up on my mom for working and having to leave me alone while she worked.
My mom never drove, she was afraid of driving and is generally afraid of a lot of complex things like those that grow up very poor are. She was an orphan at 12 and left El Salvador at 18 taking buses all the way to this country as an illegal immigrant through the desert.
She is tough as nails though. Hard work. My dad left home at 12 and lived on the streets in TJ till he could earn enough money to get himself across the border. A lot of bad shit happened to him. It scarred him for life and his outlook become bleak. There really wasnt much left of hiim but a shellshocked husk of a man. His only trade was that of a self taught journeyman mechanic. And around when I was born he was fired from his one good job after he was in a horrible car accident that peeled off his face. After that he could never get steady work.
But he taught me to always be respectful to white people. To cops, To authority. To elders, etc...
And my mom to be respectful to women, children,, working people, the really poor, etc..
So maybe it sounds racist when we talk about the 'rich' white people. Who had a car, whose kids had toys, who didnt line up for government assistance, whose mom got to stay home and raise her kids.
Its not.
And yes, everyone knows plenty of white people are also in situations similar to the one we were. But at the time we didnt know that.
Our world was very very small living in the quaint quaker state of Whittier.
It was scary when the bus got on the freeway. As were rare trips into LA for some kind of immigration hearing.
I grew up with thick soccer player like leg muscles without ever playing soccer because my mom and I walked everywhere we went.
And she was a jogger, so we went jogging on the weekends.
Cuz she wanted to be like the cute white ladies jogging at the college.
My mom was so naive that she loved eating canned food because she believes rich white people ate canned food. Specially canned fruit which she called tutti frutti. In her country only the rich could afford canned foods when she was a kid in the 50's. She more than once bought canned dog food thinking the pretty dogs on the label were just great american advertising because dogs were cute.
We never thought we were poor though, its weird. We thought white people were rich, but we werent poor.
Our definition of rich was weird like that.
My mom tried to make sure we could have one treat a week. Usually it was saturday night burgers at Bobs Big Boy or Sunday afternoon at the Mexican restaurant Muchas Gracias with the buffet so we could pig out... that was rare though, like for special occasions. But more often than not it was buying a piece of that cubed pastrami from the supermarket a big loaf of french bread and some fixings and having a picnic at the park.

So yeah, we thought white people were rich. America was the promised land. And so therefore being that we were in america we were not poor. We just werent rich. And rich was what 'normal' people and we dreamed of one day being normal and 'rich' like everyone else.
That spirit never really left us. Even though im married and live above a bunch of mansions and my closest neighbors are rockstars and pro athletes on one side and bears and cougars on the other. We still arent normal. And the white people are still rich.

But fuck no we aint poor.

 

thank you for sharing that ruve
not many are humble/comfortable enough to share a part of themselves like that