A Call to Grandma

A phone rings in Hawaii on March 16th ...

Grandma: Hello.

B.O.: Hi Grandma. It's your grandson Barry.

Grandma: Hello Boy. How are you?

B.O.: Well, I'm ok, Grandma. Actually, I'm in a bit of a pickle.

Grandma: What the hell did you do now? You doing drugs again?

B.O.: No, Grandma. I got give a big speeck about racial relations tomorrow and I'm at a bit of a loss about what to say. Can I ask a favor?

Grandma: Sure Boy. What is it?

B.O.: Can I tell the entire world you're a racist?

Grandma: Well, you goddamn did it once before in your goddamn book. What's one more time?

B.O.: Grandma, I told you. That book's really helping me with white people.

Grandma: 'Cause we read!

B.O.: Grandma!

Grandma: Why do you have to tell the whole world again that I'm racist? Why don't you tell 'em about how I helped care for you at a time when mixing of the races wasn't so accepted?

B.O.: I just need to tell everyone you say some things that are a little ... salty. It would really help.

Grandma: I still get funny looks at the grocery store ever since you said that same thing in your book.

B.O.: Grandma please?

Grandma: And why don't you ever talk about some of the crazy stuff your wife says. Talk about some racist stuff.

B.O.: You know I can't do that.

Grandma: Well, it's not like they made video tapes of me saying bad stuff. Or said it in church. Or had it taped. Or profitted from saying things. I only said it to you a couple of times.

B.O.: Grandma please. I don't think I'll get elected if I don't

Grandma: Alright boy. Your grandfather is gonna be spinning in his grave again.

B.O.: Thanks Grandma. I love you.

Grandma: Be sure to add that to your speech.