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HMMM.
Wonderboy!
I wonder why I can’t get no
molasses at this school?
You know what I’m talking
about— some of them “Grandma’s
Molasses” mixed with a little bit of
buucr to make them extra challeng
ing to sop up.
You know, when 1 was a little
boy, my mamma used to fix molas
ses ‘n’ butter for me all the lime.
One time, instead of using butter,
she mixed the molasses with some
of that expensive margarine. Now,
my mom usually doesn’t buy mar
garine but she had a coupon for a
free box so she used it
Anyway, she put that stuff in my
molasses and I swear it turned as
hard as a brick. I dabbed in it with
my fork, and looked at my mom.
She returned my look and said,
“Boy, you better not mess over that
food! Sopevery bitof itup!”
Now, my mom knew she had
messed up and Ididtoo.Butto keep
peace in the house and most impor
tantly, lo avoid getting my butt beat,
I began to sop. It was tough, though.
That stuff got harder and harder but
I was determined to sop every drop
of them molasses up.
And I did!
By the time I was through, I had
worked up a sweat. I sopped so hard
that the plate didn’t even need
washing. In fact, the plate had to be
replaced because I had sopped the
design off the plate, and had came
close to sopping a hole in it!
This taught me a valuable tip
that should go in the recipe books of
all good cooks. If you want to save
your plates when sopping molas
ses, please use cheap butter instead
of expensive margarine!
,. Are Greasy Burgers All Part of the Plot?
I guess the dining halls had this
problem here before, because I have
yet to see the first drop of molasses.
I don’t know what’s up! I go in
Lenoir everyday and see them crois
sants or those banana-nut muffins.
Oh, and let’s not forget them
damn bagels! Who in their right
mind would pay good money for a
dried out piece of bread? I admit, I
tried a bagel one day and let me tell
you— that thing was so dry, it just
absorbed all the water out of my
mouth. The more water I drank, the
more water that bagel absorbed. I
thought I would have to go to stu
dent health because of dehydration.
I believe it is just not in the black
man’s genes to eat that mess.
On the other hand, I see them
white folks go in the cafeteria eve
ryday and get their usual five dollar
feast — a bagel, cream cheese, and
a Coke. I’m not sure how ot why
they do it, but as I said earlier, it
must be in the genes. I guess it’s
sort of like why they wear shorts all
the time and walk around barefooted
in December... but, we’ll discuss
that later.
What I am really upset about is
the fact that why, when I pay so
much for my school expenses, I
can’t get what I want to eat There
is no variety. One day when I was
heading for Chase dining hall, a
freshman approached meand stated,
“I sure am hungry. I wonder what
they’re serving tonight?”
Without even thinking I replied,
“Macaroni, broccoli, and green
beans.”
The freshman said, “How do
you know?”
‘Trust me,” I said.
The freshman walked in, and on
everybody’s plate saw what I had
spoken of.
Now, I have no problem with
macaroni— if I don’t eat it every
day. Broccoli is good too, if it is not
crunchy. I love green beans— if
they don’t taste like leaves.
There just simply isn’t any vari
ety! Even the fountain drink ma
chines let you know that this school
caters to white folks. I don’t know
about you, but all the brothers and
sisters I know love the refreshing
taste of grape soda. Now, when is
the last lime you’ve seen a “Nu
Grape” label on the fountain drink
machine?
So what was a brother like me to
do if he couldn’t gel a plate of
veggies that were at least seasoned
with a little bit of ham-hock?
I did the only thing I could do. I
went over to the grill to get a burger.
I figured they couldn’t mess up a
cheeseburger that much.
After a while, I found myself
going to the grill everyday— con
suming those greasy burgers. It then
dawned on me—the white man is
trying to kill us!
Listen to my logic.
You see, they target us as soon
as we set foot on this campus. They
know brothers and sisters love to
eat. On top of that, they know what
we like to eat
How can I say this? Picture this.
When a black man dies of a heart-
attack, who do you think performs
the autopsy? A white man!
Who do you think they report
this information to? The Surgeon
General.
Who was the Surgeon General?
A white man!
So you see, they already know
what we eat Now they employ the
strategy, “If it ain’t seasoned be
yond reason, to the black man it
ain’tpleasin’ ,”Thalis to say, “If we
don’t season these healthy vege
tables, the blacks won’t eat them.
Therefore, they will go to the grill
and eat them greasy burgers.”
Hmmm?
Now, I know some of ya’ll are
questioning my logic. But, I will
present my last bit of evidence lo
show you that the white man is
indeed trying to kill us.
One morning I went lo the all-
you-can-eat breakfast al Lenoir. I
went in and look my place in line.
Now, the kid in front of me was a
white fellow. He said, “Give me
some bacon, some eggs and French
toast with butter and syrup.”
The old while lady who was
fixing the plates gave him one strip
of bacon and carefully scooped him
someeggs—making sure she didn’t
scoq) out any grease. She gave him
one piece of French toast and even
drained the excess grease from it.
She added light syrup but purposely
didn’t add butler. I knew this when
she winked her eye at him as to say
that he didn’t need any butler.
Then came my turn to wder. I
wasn’t too hungry so I said, “I’ll
have the same as that guy.”
Now check this out.
That women gave me four pieces
of French toast and saturated them
with tons of syrup and gobs of butter.
She poured some eggs on my
plate— grease and all. Then she got
an extra plate and literally stacked
bacon on it The white lady handed
this to me, smiled, and said, “I hope
you enjoy it.”
Double hmmm??
Now, I am not going to blame
her totally because I didn’t have to
eat it But people, how could I re
sist. I admit I was hooked on the
black man’s drug.
I was... ADDICTED TO THE
SWINE!
Currently, I am in this prograi
called “POF’ which stands for
“People Obsessed with Pork”.
It’s a constant battle, but I ani
determined toovercomemy habit. I
have already decreased my intake
of pork products. Before, I had a 25-
pound-a-week fatback habit
I am proud to say that I have now
cut that in half, and when I do eat it,
I consume only the fal—without
the back. (Hey, al least it’s a start!)
My black brother’s and sister
remember the old adage: You can
lead a hwse lo water but you cari’t
make him drink. The same applies
with food.
So the next lime you go to Le
noir or Chase, and someone tries to
give you a “cholesterol biscuit”
JUST SAY NO!
Instead, tell that person that you
are somebody, and that you would
just prefer a salad.
You’ll enjoy it, and hey—^it’s
cholesterol free.
Peace ya’ll.
Wonderboy
Wonderboy’s alter-ego is mild-
mannered John McCann, a sopho
more from Raleigh.
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