A Cool Christmas Story

Warning: In no way is this your traditional Christmas Story.  The experience I’m about to lay upon you has nothing to do with the holiday season; per se.  However, Christmas is the season of giving, so I have a story about giving – Christmas oriented, or not. Aight?

Hotep,

Today (11/20/13), Duke Professor of Writing, Ms. Rebecca Rich graced the unit 3-conference room with her presence.  Her lecture was geared toward beating the dismal practice of procrastination that dwells within the best of writers.  Rather than staring at a blank piece of paper, or trolling the Net, a writer writes.  So her suggestion was to talk to someone before you write. 

Professor Rich conducted an exercise during the class, in which each student spent 5 minutes speaking to the person nearest to them, about a specific topic.  The topic she gave to the class was one that placed my mental back into the unscathed footprints of a childhood full of cultural experiences.  The topic was, “Your first time at the movies.”

Now the age is foggy, but I feel like I’m 6.  I can recall Pops and I riding the El-train.  I had no idea where we were headed.  We could’ve been going to the moon for all I cared.  As long as I was trailing Pops, it was all good.  Na mean?

West Philly proved to be our destination.  We entered the 40^th Street movie theater.  The aroma of fresh popcorn captivated my nasal tract.  Pops laughed at the sight of my admiration for the popcorn machine in front of us.  The elevated stainless steel pot mesmerized me, magically spewing the prettiest popcorn kernels I had ever seen.  “Jiffy popcorn don’t’ look like that,” I can remember thinking.

The tone of Pop’s voice only heightened my moment of infatuation.  “Large box of popcorn with extra butter, some Peanut Chews and a large orange soda.  Pops knew my young, inexperienced hands couldn’t handle a large soda in the darkness of the foreign environment, just beyond the double-doors ahead of us.

Watching the concessions clerk shower our popcorn in butter, led me to the conclusion that I had to have that job.  Pops allowed me to get a fist full of popcorn, before grabbing my free hand and leading me into the den of African American leisure.

The movie was, “Cooley High.” A classic film, indeed, but I was much too young to ingest the film’s content.  My focus was drawn to the GIANT television screen in the distance.  I drew closer to Pops when the double-doors closed behind us.  Total darkness and unfamiliar voices surrounded us.

Throughout the movie, people laughed aloud, shouted obscenities at the people on the GIANT screen – speaking their minds at will.  On one side of the theater I heard, “Run Preach!” Then someone responded from my side, “He better run cause story and Curtis is on his ass.” The entire theatre erupted in laughter.  It was contagious because I was laughing and I didn’t even get the joke.  It was truly an atmosphere of released tensions and consumed aggressions.  An atmosphere that taught me I didn’t have a reason to fear my own peoples.  Feel me?

I left that theatre amongst a sea of brown and black faces with a sense of belonging, a cultural initiation that will forever have a place within the flames of my literary passion.  Steel is forged in the fire.  And here I stand, celebrating the gift that keeps on giving.  Thanks Pops!!

Happy Holidays,

MannofStat

Copyright © 2013 by Leroy Elwood Mann