Ghost Troop Home Page April Fools Part 3

September 2, email to Lakisha Ladson, Dallas Morning News

Yo, Lakisha, it’s Captain May, from the North Side of H Town. Like I told you on the phone a few minutes ago, I’m a cuz to my black brothers. I live in Sheila Jackson Lee’s congressional district, and I’m the only cracker for a square mile. I’m a white man who wears a black belt (teach martial arts) and has a high yellow wife. Between my Creole Belle and my Korean tae kwon do master, I have very little freedom, I’m afraid. If you ever come down my way, just walk around the hood and you’ll find me: I’m the only white male (like I said) and I have the only white mail box. (I thought I ought to make a statement about inclusion.) Folks around here treat me real well, though. I’m a perfect boy scout to my neighbors. I love them all, because they keep the honkies from messing with my equanimity. Right on.

Anyhow, take my advice and copy some more of your journalist peers. To hell with editors – they’re the ones who already have the nice rides and the swell houses, and they don’t give a damn what they write or say as long as they can stay on top of the dog pile of the news business. How about the little folks act like they own a piece of America too? Ain’t that what everything from the Civil War to Civil Rights was supposed to be about? Make sure you’ve got yourself and your other friends set up right before they horn in, ‘cause you know how they are…

How about some references for you to call: One is a high and mighty whitey (but a man I love), Chase Untermeyer, who was Assistant Secretary of the Navy under President Reagan and President Bush. He was my best man when I married Mrs. May (who was then Gretchen Sonnier). The other is Mr. Joseph Coleman, an octogenarian black brother of mine who fought WWII in the Pacific and has helped me scan and process the open-source media to refine the investigation that will turn into the next Watergate. (I’ve attached the report again in case you let go of it – don’t do that again!)

They will all confirm something I want you to know: I recently took a bicycle ride to Ft. Stewart Georgia, taking 22 days to cover the 1,000 miles. When I got there I delivered the money I’d collected begging for two weeks for charity for the dead soldiers’ families. Do you know how much the white children of the University of Houston Honors College gave me after I sat on the ground with a bucket and a sign and a guitar for 40 hours? Would you believe twenty bucks? A sister on the North Side put in a five one day while I was sitting on my pickup in my hood at the Laundromat – but one of the privileged patron-class pukes stole it. I just hate injustice, don’t you?

Well, anyhow, I took about five days to get my tired butt across the state of Mississippi, and it was too long, believe me. Do you know they still fly the damn Confederate flag? Do you know that things haven’t changed in Mississippi in decades? I do, because I saw it one town at a time as I rode the shoulder of Highway 80: the blacks are poor and the cops are white, and that says it all. Well, I got to thinking that there would never be peace in the South between my white brothers and my black brothers as long as the palefaces keep a Dixie flag up to prove that they’re still in charge. The last day I was in the state I decided it was time for a bit of civil disobedience (a la the great MLK), so I climbed a flag pole at a state police outpost on Hwy 80 and captured me a rebel flag. I used it for a blanket as I took breaks along the way, I got cozy on it a time or two with my wife when I came back home, then I proudly gave it to Mr. Colemanoleman. I figured he’d lived 80 years without having a white man apologize for and surrender the flag of the lost cause that we never should have fought, and he was mighty pleased. You can call him if you want; he’s loquacious, and sharp as a tack. Ask him to tell you about the would-be-mugger whose life I spared across the street from him about six months ago. I spread a lot of love around the hood just by not taking advantage of a fool – how many white folks you know who could hurt a twenty-year old brother on probation and not do it because they were too kind? None? That’s how many I know, too, and that’s what makes folks around here say I’m an officer and a gentleman.

But don’t take it from me, home girl, because you know how people be bullshitting just to make an impression, and I want you to know that I’m the for-real deal, just like you, and just like most folks in America. We just work for bullshitters. Maybe pretty soon they’ll be out of work and we’ll do a better job. Amen? Amen.

Captain May

PS: Give my regards to Eric Garcia. He’s in my book along with you since you told me that he was in on the story, and you and he are looking real strong, let me tell you. I’ve got a feeling you’ll be talking in front of folks in Congress pretty soon, and then you’ll be looking heroic!

PPS: If anyone gives you any shit for being a loyal journalist defending the Constitution, just let me know. I’m preparing a black list for my publisher, and I’ll end their careers in one little letter (like this one, only not as nice). I’ll send an example to make sure folks know I’ve got your slack. If you want, I’ll put you in touch with my Congressional contacts so you can help with our investigation! (And one last word of advice: Don’t buy any real estate in Crawford, it’s about to be a redneck reservation again.)

Ghost Troop Home Page April Fools Part 3