Me and My Man

On Friday I bought a book. And I was so excited. Not that I haven't been reading. I read the Los Angeles Times on a daily basis, I am always online, and not a week goes by that I don't read the LA Weekly from start to finish. But books? Boy was I slacking. It took me forever and a day to finish Miranda July's wonderfully exquisite No One Belongs Here More Than You, and that's only because I had gotten to the place where for me, the bathroom was the only place for a person to get his read on. But all that doesn't matter now, cause on Friday I bought a book and it feels good.

What book you might ask?

Dead Certain: The Presidency of George W. Bush. And get this: I am enjoying it. Look I know it is hard to explain myself as a young black man from the hood, up to no good getting my read on about George W. Bush, but I actually think, arguably, that this man and his presidency is/has been quite interesting. I'm not saying I am shouting my love for him, his beliefs, or politics from the rooftops, but if you tell me that for the span of 500 pages or so give or take, I can sit back and travel with this administration and all its ups and downs from the 1999 New Hampshire primaries all the way up to the present as if I am a fly on the wall... well, why the hell would I not get my read on?

SIDENOTE: One of the best parts of today occurred around 2:00 PM or so at the intersection of Washington and Western in Los Angeles. Waiting for a bus. Sitting on some makeshift seat. [A hydrant, wall fixture, something practical, but not built for seating] Book up high so anyone can see the book's jacket. Engrossed. Eyes come over the top of the book, and meet up with one half of a well-to-do older looking Caucasian couple walking a dog. [What? Am I in West Hollywood? I'm no racist and/or homophobe [trust me], but they literally just came out of nowhere amidst all the non-Caucasian faces milling about.]

Anyways, I look up and one half of the couple looks at the book, then looks at me, sternly.

I look away, I look back.

He's still staring.

Confused.

As if to say, what the hell are you doing reading a book on George W. Bush? You should know better.