BB Meets Crow Dog

Warning: Foul language ahead.

***

I hit the Indian Market at the Arlington Convention Center this afternoon with a couple purposes in mind: Score some sort of Indian food for an ethnic potluck at a prof's house tonight, and hopefully find someone to participate in a project I'm putting together for multi-cultural counseling.

***

I had a fine time wandering up and down the aisles, checking out the art, soaking in a little culture. I think the word "Southwest" is in the full title of the this Indian Market, and I could see why. Lots of Navajos around, and the whole thing had a definite Arizona/New Mexico vibe.

There was a food court, sort of, but it didn't really satisfy what I was looking for. That is, it was basically a big buffet, and I couldn't quite convince myself that loading up with $20 worth of enchiladas would do the trick for the potluck. I considered getting a bunch of fry bread, but tucked that idea away as a plan B while I headed back into the market for another look around.

I stopped for a while at a stage to hear an Indian blues band cover BB King's "The Thrill is Gone." They were a trio, and the singer had a fine R&B shout that suited them well. His playing sounded like BB himself, and in fact, the singer called him "my uncle." It wasn't a barnstorming, knock-your-socks off rendition, but it was good. It felt like something was coming full circle somehow.

***

I found a vendor selling piñon nuts (or piñones in Spanish) and decided that'd be a good route for me. She was a little Navajo woman, and she explained that she'd picked the nuts and roasted them.

So I had something for the potluck. Just had to find a participant for my project.

***

I had a couple folks in mind for this. From the stage, the blues singer had pointed out a teacher for a round of applause. I thought she'd possibly be willing to participate if I could find her.

There was also a man I'd seen in the crowd soliciting folks to attend... something. Couldn't catch what he'd been saying, but he had a painted face, and I figured he'd be willing to talk.

***

And indeed, he was the one I found, over by the food court.

I approached him and introduced myself. I explained that I'm a grad student, and that I'm doing a project on ethnic identity.

He held my hand for way too long, and I got uncomfortable.

"What is it you want me to say?" he asked.

"Well see, I'm curious as to what goes into forming someone's ethnic identity," I answered, as I pulled my hand away to gesture in the air.

He leaned forward and said, "Do you smell alcohol?"

I said, "No," but actually thought--I didn't until you leaned over and asked me.

He was loaded.

***

Him: "Do you want to know what I am?"

Me: "Okay."

Him: "Crow dog!"

Me: (I've heard of a Crow... is Dog a type of Crow Indian?--I thought to myself as I stared at him quizzically)

Him: "Brulee!"

Me: (Isn't that a dessert?)

Him: "Sioux! It's all from the father. My great grandfather was a Sioux. His son married a Creek, and his son married a Tonkawa. We were all the same, didn't have labels until--hey, there was a white guy in there too. My grandmother would have starved if she hadn't married him, okay?"

Me: "Oh sure, I--"

Him: "Say, do you like chocolate pie?"

Me: "Um, a little bit."

Him: "Do you like lemon meringue pie?"

Me: "Yes! Yes I do!"

Him: "See, that's what it's like."

Me: "Uh..."

Him: "Because nobody GIVES A FUCK IF YOU LIKE LEMON MERINGUE PIE OR CHOCOLATE PIE!!"

I looked around and people were beginning to give this drunk Indian who was barking in my face a wide berth. I saw one mother and child zip by, and I decided I was in yet another of those utterly strange BB moments, and that I should just roll with it.

Me: "Okay, I see."

Him: "So... what do you want me to say?"

Me: "Well, see, I'm just... so you're saying it's paternal in your case? Your ethnic identity is based on--"

Him: "It's like pie man, because NOBODY gives a FUCK if you like LEMON MERINGUE or CHOCOLATE PIE!!"

Just then a man and a woman approached us. The man asked me, "Hey, where'd you get those piñon nuts?"

I gestured back into the guts of the market. He then began speaking to Crow Dog in Spanish, and I ducked out just as a woman walked up and handed him a glass of red wine.

***

I did get his email address, and I still hope I can maybe get some useful information out of him.

***

You ever feel like the craziest crap happens to you?

***

It's been a good day. Really. Kelli and the kids were in Corsicana, and I had a fistful of things to do today. Stats class this morning, then a quick lunch before heading off to Krav Maga class. I had a good workout there, and a really good time. I split my big toenail somehow, but I didn't hurt much.

***

After that was the Indian Market, then the book discussion (Native Son by Richard Wright) and ethnic potluck at Dr. Crook's house. It was a good, relaxed time. I didn't enjoy Native Son, but then again, I don't think it's meant to be enjoyed; I think it's meant to make you squirm.

It worked.

Dr. Crook asked if we had any other book suggestions for the next time he teaches the class, and I offered The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fist Fight in Heaven by Sherman Alexie. Good cultural insight, and not as horrifying as the Wright book. Oy.

***

Ya'll have a good weekend. Have some pie.