One Seco de Cordero, please.

There are so many things weighing heavy on my mind on this Martin Luther King Day. Personal, political and otherwise. Through the years, I’ve always felt slightly strange about taking the holiday and then subsequently spending it doing spoiled white people stuff.

“You off on Monday? Cool, me too! Want to meet up for a drink?”

But here we are. And the aforementioned conversation has already taken place. But it’s not too late to change the course of the day, right?

Maybe I can find a protest or a parade? A church service? A politically-charged speech or two? And then what? Post a picture to all my social media outlets to show the world what an accomplished, compassionate honky I am? Not sure this route makes sense.

Perhaps I could educate myself. Watch a documentary or pick up a book or watch Selma a second time? Again, this seems a little forced. This is something I should do anyway—not just to alleviate guilt.

I wonder if I could get away with continuing to simply do what I do now in a city that (mostly) has a reputation for accepting people. I think it’s entirely possible that I don’t have to participate in anything spectacular. When I consider all the people just beyond my front door who are new to the United States and trying to make it here while a bastard like Trump gains momentum in the polls, I feel like simply taking a walk and not being a dick could qualify as taking a stand.

And if everything goes as planned, I’ll finish my Don’t-be-a-dick, Single-man March with a trip to one of the hundreds(?) of ethnic restaurants nearby and order something delicious from someone who doesn’t speak hardly any English at all. Eureka!

This is my plan. This is my statement. This is my Martin Luther King Day…but first a leisurely ride through the city with another spoiled white person on really expensive bicycles. After that, look out!

 

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