It ain't easy being indian


For the past three months or so I’ve been out of the loop because I’ve been busy recovering from spinal fusion surgery. Yes, the operation hurt, it hurt a lot but I am now able to walk normally again…mostly. I had to get it you know. I had lost that swing in my step and my smiles had turned into grimaces. When my Unk Koon picked me up after my spending six days in the hospital he said that in the Old Days I would have just been put on an iceberg and left there to perish. Well, I don’t recall that he said ‘perish’ precisely but his meaning was clear. Me? I just laughed as well as I could. It hurt.

A lot of things have been in the national news that I have been itching to write about, for one that crazy brownish, leathery, New Jersey white woman who was accused of putting her five-year-old kid in a tanning bed. I really hope yooz have seen her in the news. OMG! I like to think I don’t shock easily but that woman’s old cracked leather visage makes leather everywhere feel bad. I was also struck by the irony all over again, of how pale, pinkish persons earnestly tan and even pay to try and look as good and normal as us Indians and other brown people of the world, who are most of the world’s population.

Now I have nothing against imitation; it is said that it is the highest form of flattery in the world as I well know. Meow! Just kidding, geez! It makes no sense to me that the same people who hate on and discriminate against Brown people are literally dyeing (get it?) to attain our lovely golden shades of humanity. Anyhoo-I really had to get that out. Did yooz see that over-baked Jersey creature’s nose? Shudder! I see where they made an action figure type doll of her and named it ‘tanorexic’. Hehehe.

Which brings me to a whole other subject: ahem!    Waayyyyy, like way, way back in the day, I was born in the Later Rezzosteric Age. Though I am not yet an elder I do hope one day to achieve that status by earning the honor, not just by getting old and meaner than a rabid rez dog who thinks the powers that be are trying to steal its’ monthly…wait for it…bone. Ahem! For sure some of ya’ll Indians know what I mean. Well anyway back to me. (Wink!)

I am unable to lie about my age because there are too many people whom I grew up with in the Big City who would call me out faster than a casino slot machine eats a $20 dollar bill. Anyone else who is curious my answer is; why do you need to know? The other thing is I’m amazed I made it this far, my moniker as Mz Wild is absolutely fitting, right Annie? I know how to have a good time. Call me?

I am waiting for the day when I can take the floor and start telling outrageous stories to little Indian kids, like "when I was young we didn’t have fire". But I bet you anything they would come right back and say, "well, at least you had electricity." I want to share my good old days but I’m don’t think our children could comprehend a whole world without cell phones, iphones, ipads and digital music. Now, when I and my peers were teens we had big boom boxes that we carried around so we could be cool. We were cool. Our music was still actual music played and performed by human beings who were incredibly talented and entertaining, how can anyone not know who Lionel Richie is? Now there’s a Gaga who calls herself a lady and lip-synched concerts put on by pretty people who are admired for ridiculous, absurdly embarrassing behavior and they are called stars. Ick.

I guess I really am old…I’m gonna get out the VHS tapes and watch 80’s movies like Purple Rain, Krush Groove and Flash Dance. I wanna play some old mixed tapes that don’t contain lyrics that demean women, and maybe I’ll do some break dancing too. Nah. I better not break dance, I just got fixed up.

I’m unsure of how the coming years will go on but the future looks bright. My beloved son is coming home to visit. Steve and I have so much to talk about, one thing being him begetting some grandchildren for me. Most of my friends are all ready grandparents and I know how special Gramma’s and Grampa’s are, because I have grown up in my lovely Gramma Rose’s soft yet strong arms.

It’s like my Unk Gene always said, "respect your elders, you rotten kid’s!" Well…I made that up but it is something like he would say.