Why Can't We Just Get Along?

Last summer, I experienced an unfortunate road-rage incident where an ignoramus decided to hit me with some racist bravado. Was I pissed? Damn straight I was. So what did I do? Well, I do what I do about most things. I wrote about it. And it's a pretty good piece if I do say so myself. (See my story in Swerve magazine.)

But as you'll see from the story, I wish I had done more. It reminded me of a discussion I had long ago with a friend over a beverage at a seedy old pub. We were talking about racism for some reason and decided that it should be our life's mission to try to end it, and promote peace and love instead. (And no, we weren't drunk, just young and yet-to-be jaded.) He thought we should buy a big old van, and paint one side white and one side black, then write the slogan, "Why can't we just get along?" down the side. And I heartily suggested that we would drive it around with a megaphone spreading our message through beat-boxing and shouting.

Well, we never did get that van, but I have still always considered myself a vigilante of sorts regarding racism. I let my guard down briefly, but have no fear, I am back on full alert.