I live in Cobble Hill, where you grew up, and it’s so gentrified now that it’s almost entirely white people with strollers like me.
Where are you from?
Well, I’ve lived in New York for twelve years, but I am originally from Central Illinois.
I am trying to detect your accent.
It took me a long time to get rid of it, to be honest.
You did not get rid of it.
It must be pretty amazing that Obama took Michelle to Do the Right Thing.
When he was sizing Michelle up, this fine woman, he said, “How am I going to impress her?” I always kid him, good thing he didn’t choose motherfucking Driving Miss Daisy or she would have dumped his ass right there.
I cannot imagine what it must be like for you to walk around Cobble Hill now and see wheat-germ places and Pilates.
That does not bother me. What bothers me is that these kids do not know the street games we grew up with. Stoop ball, stickball, cocolevio, crack the top, down the sewer, Johnny on the pony, red light green light one-two-three. These are New York City street games.
I was on the cover of Esquire magazine for Malcolm X. You know what the cover title was?
I’m afraid to ask.
“Spike Lee hates your cracker ass.”
Was that a quote?
No, it was not a quote.
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