Every third day or so there is a post on the frontpage of WordPress about white people and what they do. I know they are supposed to be funny. I am sure there is some truth to the witty observations about the white people subjects, although it is obvious that the group chosen is not typical to the area where I live or my social class because I have never met anyone who embodies the characteristics the blog author talks about, although I admit I didn’t read very many of them. I read enough to know I wasn’t interested in reading more than a few. Inherent in the posts is the social commentary at writing about white people in a stereotypical manner after so many centuries of stereotypes about other races and groups. It’s kind of an interesting idea.
The thing is, I don’t think the posts are in any way funny. Or annoying. Or brilliant. Or anything. I read through the comments and person after person went on and on about how the writer has exactly captured the subjects (Whoever they are. They aren’t like any white people I’ve ever met, although I do admit though that my experiences are limited and dull.). They say that the posts are hilarious. Others go on and on about how annoying they are, how stupid, blah blah blah. Whatever it is, a bunch of people are reading this stuff and commenting on it and I just don’t get it. I just don’t. I never thought Seinfeld was funny, but I could see why people would, I just couldn’t stand most of the characters. But this. I’m at a loss.
So my refrigerator is naked. Some might think this is euphemism for my having no food, but it’s not. I had to take all the stuff off of the front of it so people coming to look at my house who might want to buy it don’t stop and look at the things on my fridge but look at the house instead. I go into the kitchen to get some grapes or make an egg and the refrigerator shocks me, all white and obvious. It’s been covered for years now by all the crap I swore I wouldn’t have on my fridge before I had a daughter who wrote me notes telling me she loves me and drew five dollar bills. Where else am I going to put that stuff? I love her drawings. I love her love notes to me. She draws pictures of us holding hands then writes “I Love You, Mama” across the top. How cute is that? And once Milla was old enough to figure out that is where I hung stuff from her, she started hanging things there herself.
In fact, just yesterday, she hung up a note right at eye level so I could see it. It said: 3-4-08 1) Go to the libaraery. 2) Watch Lady and the Cheramp. 3) Go to Starbucks. 4) Lara takes a nap, Milla watches c.cl.m.cw.t.t. (this last stands for Click, Clack Moo, Cows that Type). It is spelled just like this and written in Milla’s atrocious handwriting. I admit it. My daughter has the worst handwriting in the world. But she is smart enough to leave me misspelled notes explaining exactly how she wants our evenings to proceed, and thoughtful enough to include a provision allowing me to take a nap. She is so smart and funny and perfect. Of course I’m going to leave her notes on the refrigerator.
Or not. When I looked at the web site showing photos of our house, the ones of the fridge do look pretty bad, so when my real estate agent said I should take the stuff down, I begrudgingly agreed. It’s sad. But of course I saved all of Milla’s wonderful notes and drawings.
Maybe I can do a white person post of my own, since I’m white, I can comment on the experiences of white people. (Well, at least on this one white person, or two if I include Milla.) White people cover their refrigerators with their child’s drawings and notes. The children of white people are thoughtful, smart, and wonderful. When the real estate agent tells them to take the stuff off the refrigerator, white people do so because they want to sell their house, but they save the stuff their children created. After removing the creativity from the front of the refrigerator, when white people walk into the kitchen to get some grapes, the refrigerator seems naked in its glaring whiteness.
There. That was about as bland as the white people posts on the front page of WordPress. And at least this time I can relate.