Well the world turns
And a hungry little boy with a runny nose
Plays in the street as the cold wind blows
In the ghetto - Elvis Presley
I don’t know what everyone complains about. Living in the ghetto is fun. Sure, you may have your midnight dog fights, your random encounters with pushy businessman proposing to trade your life for your wallet, cell phone, sneakers, watch, dignity, and a pistol whip to the back of the medulla oblongata. But where else could you possibly purchase seven inch acrylic toenails?
Sure, your chances of survival might decrease by four and a half million percent. But where else could you possibly spot a girl wearing her hair in an adorable, little helicopter?
There is no place so exciting, so adaptive, so creative as the ghetto. Might one experiment with the effects of fermented piss and shit anywhere else?
Nay, I say. The ghetto marches to the beat of its own bucket (the white man took its drum). House and job, have you? Snort, this bench will do just fine, thank you very much. And here, this here garbage bag can double as a blanket. Innovation.
I captured this bit of ingenuity on my camera phone last night (and almost got shot the hell up in doing so. Who knew camera phones had flashes?)
How inventive. What sort of thought process transpires that might motivate one to tuck their pants betwixt their shoelaces? Surely none Dean Kamen has ever known.
And might Dean Kamen have invented such the accommodating solution to those ever worrisome prom dress pregnancy blues?
Personally, I think not.
In the ghetto, one thinks outside of the box (the white man wouldn’t let them in). And it is this sort of creativity that I try and inspire in my students. Reggie “Make dat Rain” seems to be catching on quite well.
“Mr. Kimble.”
“Yes, Reggie, can I help you with something?”
“Yeah, well, I got this idea, right.”
“Ahhh, to have an idea.”
“What?”
“Let’s hear it, Rainman.”
“So it’s like an invention.”
“Isn’t it all?”
“So it’s like this suit, right.”
“Like a tuxedo suit or a swimsuit?”
“Whatever.”
“Ok.”
“And it’s got this remote control.”
“If it’s a swimsuit it might be hard to have a remote control.”
“Whatever, Mr. Kimble.”
“Ok.”
“And so it’s this suit with this remote control. And you plug in on the remote control a dance, say like Thriller. And then the suit acts out the dance for you. Like you be dancing Thriller, but really it’s the suit that’s doin it.”
“So basically, your idea is a suit that dances for you?”
“Yeah, what you think?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah.”
“Genius.”
