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So, I am distracted. I hate being distracted. I have a lot to do, but yet here I am, distracted. The world seems very sad to me right now. Do you ever wonder if we are evolving? It is the year 2020 and it feels like 1960. How can today look like 60 years ago?

I have friends from all walks of life. I have black friends, Asian friends, Mexican friends, Native American friends, you name it. I have friends that are conservative, liberal and all in between. I have friends that are fire fighters, teachers, in finance, preachers, pilots, and police officers. I love them all. Right now, I am thinking about my friends that are police officers. They have a job that I am glad exists, and I would not want to have, but I am glad they exist. I know for a fact, like so many groups, they are filled to the brim with good people. But like every group, no population is perfect.

I am distracted.

I played golf last Saturday. It was fun. A lot of fun. Me and three white dudes. If you have ever golfed, you know it is not a diverse sport. But I digress. One of the golfers I just met, but he seems alright. The other two, I enjoy their company a lot, and over the years, during a certain season, have spent a lot of time with watching our sons play another, not so diverse sport.

I am distracted.

There are a lot of advantages and disadvantages of being a black man surrounded by “non-black” men. I have a lot of experience that tells me that the “non-black” population is filled to the brim with good people. But like every group, no population is perfect. The disadvantage is not having that connection, that ability to talk about things without explanation. That “I know what you mean” that you can only get with others that have similar experiences.

I am distracted.

I want to write this blog that will explain everything. I want to make everything better. I want to be both the biological and social disinfectant for our world. But at the end of the day, it’s just a blog.

I am distracted.

While golfing, my friend, my white friend, said, “Not sure how to say this, and I don’t want it to be awkward. But sorry about all this.” I don’t remember exactly the words he used, but I do remember that they were genuine. I remember that it felt good. I liked the idea that someone else, someone from a different group could recognize how events might affect me, and recognize that things might hurt. He recognized a possible hurt, and felt empathy for that hurt. He did not say anything else. He did not interject some personal experience (please don’t do this) to try to relate how some group did not like golfers or some crap like that. He did not try to justify or explain away. He just wanted to express his sadness. So, I guess, if there was a message to present by this blog, it’s that.

It’s OK to be sad for others … (roll credits)

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