Friday, December 14, 2018

Minneapolis Police Department Christmas Tree

Police officers decorated the tree with low-class decorations collected from the trash. Citizens and media believe this is racist.



Beg to differ. It's not racist. White people are low-class too.

Here, let me share an anecdote with you that clarifies why this is a non racial prank and why anyone is racist to think so.

A long time ago before Al Gore invented the internet and it was not possible to look things up, I received an invitation that read, "White Trash Party come dressed appropriately." I asked several friends what that means. They all went, "Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. I don't know." 

One by one we each puzzled over this. None of us knew the phrase "white trash" referred to people. Low class caucasians specifically. We thought it was a costume party, that I should go wearing a white plastic bin liner with a milk carton and pizza box showing through. We were genuinely puzzled. 

Then when I got there it all became clear. The whole place was made to be ridiculous, and people were wearing polyester clothes from the the 70s; white tube socks with two broad red and blue strips at the top, cutoff jeans, plaid shirts with the sleeves ripped out, sneakers, sweat headbands and wristbands.

The expensive apartment was decked out to appear to be low class. Chintzy cheap  hors d'oeuvres, Velveeta cheese on Ritz crackers, bowls of Cheez-Its, deviled eggs, molded jello with shredded carrots inside, all served on an ironing broad. As if the hosts didn't know what they were doing. A great deal of thought went into this party. They had to scrounge up all these items. Music was 8-track, drinks were Pabst Blue ribbon and Cold Duck wine, and the aluminum  Christmas tree was decorated simply with beer cans. 

Ooooooh, so that's what white trash means. Ha ha ha ha ha ha. 

How did these people even think of this? How was this even a thing? 

Those Cheez-Its were really good.

They had a jar of peanut butter to smear on them.

"Where in the world did you get that jacket and pants?" 

"The back of my closet. I kept them this whole time."

"Good Lord." 

"I know! But this is how I actually dressed. Look at these shoes." 


Be of good cheer. The cops were just fooling around. No reason to take offense. The jest does not have a racial component. They're making fun of the way we really are. The joke is blending the lovely tradition with the street-level mundanity. The somewhat sacred with somewhat profane.

Another time I bought an expensive tree ornament for a group-decorated tree, a collection intended to build up over years, and it was stolen. Son of a BEE hive. It was really cute too. And there went the high spirit with low level theft. And at a bank. The federal bank of all places. Proves you cannot trust everyone every time everywhere.

Thanks a lot for making me recall that. What a bummer!

I must now overwrite that recollection with something present that's lovely.

Last Friday I had to return the boots because Thursday Boots sent the wrong color. The whole point was to change attitude and get a light colored pair to be oddly anachronistically hip. They blew it. The return required I go back to my old neighborhood exactly 12 blocks south on Broadway. 

Parking is terrible. The crosswalks are painted Portland rainbow gay. The antique front door of the shop sticks shut, faking out everyone by giving the impression the place is closed, but it's too unique a door to replace. The shop, Hope Tank, is filled with interesting things. Knickknacks, gewgaws, bric-a-bracs, tchotchkes and kitsch. Once inside, the return is splendidly swift, efficient and painless. The women there are lovely, beautiful actually, and helpful and engaging and friendly. And right next to the front counter is a tiny pine tree only a couple feet tall, set on a table, decorated with the most interesting ornaments you're likely to see and no two things alike, graced with thin strands of tinsel looking like actual icicles. Like a Charlie Brown tree if Charlie Brown had great taste in trees.

"I had a girlfriend who did her tree like yours. It was one of her hobbies. Every ornament must be unique. She is firm with her rules. No ornament sets allowed. No ordinary bulbs. No two things alike. Each ornament a precious little world unto itself. Cuteness welcomed but nothing cheap. Nothing like a set of sushi ornaments, although one sushi might pass if its sufficiently interesting. Each element carefully chosen. Ornaments collected over decades to fill a large tree. A real personal project. Each thing a fixed memory. Truly a thought-tree. Like yours."  

"Thank you. Please. Come back again any time that you like. Shop around. We have very good gifts I think that you'll like. Spend time looking around." 

And you know what? The whole place is attractive enough to do just that. 

2 comments:

ampersand said...

I propose a new book series, 'Where's Racist Waldo?" for all those Great White Racist Hunters out there.

ndspinelli said...

As you might imagine, this has caused great outrage here in the Twin Cities. I say have black cops make a tree goofing on white people. That's the way it used to work and it worked just fine.