Sugar Jam – Scottsdale, Arizona

I often describe my youth in rural, agrarian Peñasco as “bumpkinly naïveté.”  I may have been book smart (and insolent) enough to intimidate some of my teachers, but insofar as experiential smarts, I was one pretty sheltered guy.  The very first black people I ever saw up close were Drew and Shane Roebuck, gazelle-quick running backs for Menaul High School.   I wanted to kill them…not because they were black, but because I couldn’t catch them.  You see, I had a reputation as a fierce tackler.  It didn’t matter the race, ethnicity, religious affiliation or favorite breakfast cereal, I wanted to tackle everyone in a uniform that didn’t have Peñasco’s blue and gold. In basic military training for the Air Force, I shared close quarters with young men of every demographic.  It was the start of many beautiful friendships.  Over the course of an entire military career, many of my best friends were black.  Some of those friendships were borne of proximity and job, but flourished from the heart.  Even today–some 28 years after my retirement–fond recollection of such wonderful black friends as Dwayne (not The Rock) Johnson, Patrick Fields, Michael Gordon, Moe Myers and so many others remind me…

Yellow Brick Cafe – Twin Falls, Idaho

In the Air Force, when you’re stationed at a base overseas, service members receive an orientation on how to comport ourselves (behave) in that country.  We’re cautioned about cultural do’s and don’ts.  We’re introduced to American terminology and conduct our host country members might find offensive.  Above all, it’s emphasized that we are ambassadors for the United States, that our behavior reflects on our country.  We’re admonished not to perpetrate the “ugly American” stereotype that some countries have about the fruited plain.  If you’re not familiar with the term, here’s how Wikipedia defines it: “Ugly American” is a stereotype depicting American citizens as exhibiting loud, arrogant, demeaning, thoughtless, ignorant, and ethnocentric behavior mainly abroad, but also at home. When my Kim and I travel under spacious skies, we see ourselves as ambassadors for the great state of New Mexico.  We’re kind to wait staff and other diners at every restaurant we frequent.  We engage “local indigenous personnel” (a term from MASH) in friendly conversation and express genuine interest when we ask questions about them, their restaurants and their cities.  Invariably not only do we get great service, but they reciprocate our interest.  Lately, however, it’s become more difficult to act…