#2. Saturday
"And what are they?"
"They're Jewish, Pop."
"Oh. Okay. I like some of them suits. They're kinda clean."
A beat.
"They something like Jehovah's Witnesses? Everybody's walking."
"Nah. Two completely different religions. They're not walking door to door. Saturday is their Sabbath. It's called Shabbat. Starts just before sunset on Friday and lasts until Saturday night. Their day of rest. So they don't drive or do work to honor it."
"You're pretty smart. How you learn all this?"
"I don't know. Honestly, I didn't know much about it until I moved out to LA. There are a lot of Jewish people that work in the entertainment industry. A lot of writers. So, you know, you just kinda end up learning a lot by being around other people and in the writer's room and stuff."
"There a lot of Black writers in them rooms?"
"Nah, not for real."
"What about Jewish? There a lot of Black people in that?"
"Nah, not a lot, I guess."
"Well then how they supposed to learn about you and Black folks?"
Silence. I don't know how to answer so I slowly turn up the radio. Some rapper rapping about "beating the pussy up" is on and I quickly change the station to something different. The oldies. B.B. King plays.
"Hey! Now turn that up. I like that song. You don't know nothin' about B.B. King. That's good music right there."
He starts to sing along with Mr. King:
"OH, MAY GOD BLESS YOU./ IT WAS FUN WHILE IT WAS FUN / HAVE FUN, BABY, I HATE TO LOSE YOU / IT'S ALL OVER, WHAT'S DONE IS DONNNNEEE / YESSSSS, GO ON DARLING/ SEEK YOUR FORTUNE AND FAME / YES YOU'RE GOOD LUCK OR BAD LUCK BABY, YOUR FRIENDS MUST TAKE THE BLAME / OOOHHHH I CAN'T BEG YOU BABY/ I'VE GOT TOO MUCH PRIDE / BUT I'LLL , I'LLLLL SURVIIIIVE / OH, I'LLLL SURVIIIIIIVE."
He turns and looks at me and asks, "You sure you don't mind me being out here with you? I know I be asking you a lot of questions. But you the smartest person I know."
"Of course not. It's all good. I'm glad you're here!"
"Ok. I won't ask you that again." (He will.)
Then he says, with a smile, "You're alright with me, boy."
"Thanks, Pop."
"They're Jewish, Pop."
"Oh. Okay. I like some of them suits. They're kinda clean."
A beat.
"They something like Jehovah's Witnesses? Everybody's walking."
"Nah. Two completely different religions. They're not walking door to door. Saturday is their Sabbath. It's called Shabbat. Starts just before sunset on Friday and lasts until Saturday night. Their day of rest. So they don't drive or do work to honor it."
"You're pretty smart. How you learn all this?"
"I don't know. Honestly, I didn't know much about it until I moved out to LA. There are a lot of Jewish people that work in the entertainment industry. A lot of writers. So, you know, you just kinda end up learning a lot by being around other people and in the writer's room and stuff."
"There a lot of Black writers in them rooms?"
"Nah, not for real."
"What about Jewish? There a lot of Black people in that?"
"Nah, not a lot, I guess."
"Well then how they supposed to learn about you and Black folks?"
Silence. I don't know how to answer so I slowly turn up the radio. Some rapper rapping about "beating the pussy up" is on and I quickly change the station to something different. The oldies. B.B. King plays.
"Hey! Now turn that up. I like that song. You don't know nothin' about B.B. King. That's good music right there."
He starts to sing along with Mr. King:
"OH, MAY GOD BLESS YOU./ IT WAS FUN WHILE IT WAS FUN / HAVE FUN, BABY, I HATE TO LOSE YOU / IT'S ALL OVER, WHAT'S DONE IS DONNNNEEE / YESSSSS, GO ON DARLING/ SEEK YOUR FORTUNE AND FAME / YES YOU'RE GOOD LUCK OR BAD LUCK BABY, YOUR FRIENDS MUST TAKE THE BLAME / OOOHHHH I CAN'T BEG YOU BABY/ I'VE GOT TOO MUCH PRIDE / BUT I'LLL , I'LLLLL SURVIIIIVE / OH, I'LLLL SURVIIIIIIVE."
He turns and looks at me and asks, "You sure you don't mind me being out here with you? I know I be asking you a lot of questions. But you the smartest person I know."
"Of course not. It's all good. I'm glad you're here!"
"Ok. I won't ask you that again." (He will.)
Then he says, with a smile, "You're alright with me, boy."
"Thanks, Pop."
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