This is what we should have heard last Tuesday.
My Fellow Americans:
Today I am going to talk to you about change. Not the unspecified, mysterious, and unsubstantiated change that I have been prattling on and on about for the past two years. No, the change I am talking about is the inherent ability that all of us free Americans possess when we need to backtrack on something we previously tried to pass off as a truth.
Yes, my friends, I am changing my story.
Last week, when my former friends at ABC News first released their story on some of the goofball rants and ravings of my spiritual advisor and brother, the Wright Reverend Wright, I pretended that I had never heard them before. I said that I probably wasn't there on those days when the Wright Reverend went on and on like a rabid dog.
Come on, guys. I was there. I belonged to the church for 20 years. How could I have possibly missed any of this? I truly appreciate those of you, especially my brothers in Mississippi, who publicly gave me the benefit of the doubt. But, I heard it all. And, yes, there were some Sundays where I thought the Wright Reverend was an absolute stitch. But, overall, I am truly embarrassed by my choice of religious worship and I now deeply regret the two dimes I placed in the offering plate every Sunday for the past 20 years.
Just as two great White songwriters, Lennon and McCartney, once wrote, I should have known better with a guy like him. Frankly, I should have distanced myself years ago when, at my Thanksgiving table while I was enjoying my second slice of pecan pie and the rest of my inner circle was playing Scrabble, the Wright Reverend tried to pass off "FUHONKY" as a legitimate triple word score. Indeed, beyond his absolutely satanic political views, never once did he ever bring anything when he was invited for dinner. Not flowers. Not candy. Not even an Entenmann's. Nothing. Michelle and I should have cut and run then. We didn't. I'm sorry for that.
It was all very poor judgement on my part. I promise not to do it again. I will change. Very much like the change we all need to embrace in this country. The type of change that reminds us that White people can also be victims of racism. Like the poor young White teenager in Mount Vernon, New York, who could never use the school bathroom for fear that some of my Black brothers would turn out the lights and steal his bookbag. The type of change that reminds us of the many double standards Black people enjoy in this country. Let's face it, if it was Hillary Clinton whose pastor was exposed as a Nazi-like loon, she would be working the express line at Albertson's faster than you can say "Monica Lewinsky."
But, I'm not here to make this a campaign speech. (WINK AT AUDIENCE) I'm standing before you as the man who wants to change us all for the better. To let us all know that racism in this country has decreased. That life has improved for all of us. That we are not living in the world that the Wright Reverend wants us to acknowledge. That there are no more high powered hoses. That it is now okay to laugh at each other and be just a little politically incorrect. That if my colored valet tells me an off-color joke I should be able to share it with you. Like the one about the Japanese World War Two fighter pilot who joined the Ku Klux Klan. Every December 7th, he bombs Pearl Bailey. (PAUSE FOR LAUGH). So, my friends, the only hope that is truly audacious would be Bob. And, even then, do I offend anyone if I say that my favorite movie of his is "The Paleface?" But, I digress...
Yes, I should have been straight with you right from the beginning. Yes, I went to the Trinity United Church of Christ. Yes, I was married there. Yes, my kids were baptized there. And, yes, I do own a White lawn jockey. I should have admitted it. I don't know why I didn't. I guess I believed Oprah when she told me that the American public was essentially gullible and stupid. I'll know better from now on. Now when I talk about change, I am starting with me.
I will live with this bad judgment for a long while. I know there are people who will be less likely to vote for me as a result. If you're thinking about my supreme punishment, I want you to remember that I do have to go home every night to Michelle and, with all that incessant yammering... Well, enough said.
I hope you accept this as my most sincerest apology. And, if you don't want to vote for me now, I will clearly understand. God bless you. And God bless the memory of Moms Mabley.
Dinner last night: Eggplant parmagiana at Maria's Italian Kitchen.
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