White People Shit.
It’s the semi-pejorative term Black folks use to describe items, actions, and ideas that fall outside of the negro-normative spectrum, preponderantly enjoyed by our Caucasian counterparts.
Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar & Grill.
Calling the police.
All things that seemingly exist as the exclusive domain of white people and feel somewhat out of place when juxtaposed with abject negritude. But let’s be real, everyone’s Blackness has boundaries and even the hardest of Hoteps and the 1% of the 5%ers have some kind of appreciation for some facets of the Eurocentric lifestyle.
(Don’t front, you know all the words to “Sweet Caroline” too.) [Editor's Note: This is not true. I have no idea what any of the words to "Sweet Caroline" are except for the words "sweet" and "Caroline." Honestly, I have no clue what the song is even about or who sings it. I'm Black in public. - PJ]
This is a simple attempt to start cataloging those white things that we kinda sorta really really dig.
There was once a time when, if you saw a group of black folks running, you ran too based on instinct and fear. Like, Cali Weekend in Atlanta used to have fliers for parties that said, 8pm-Black Folk Start Running Away. Running as a survival mechanism is a thing ingrained in our collective psyche. And sure, Black folks have been among the world’s best sprinters and marathon runners and hurdlers and the like, but that’s also running for a reason. You know, a medal and/or some money.
Running for fun, however, totally white people shit.
I mean, how you gonna tell Black folks to wake up at 6am on a Saturday, go outside, and run for no goddamn reason other than to get a commemorative t-shirt and maybe come hot chocolate, right? Wrong. Apparently we just got the memo late and now we out here forming groups like Black Girls Run and shit hitting these streets just running for the fuck of it.
We run now. It’s a thing. For health. I dig it.
Ridiculousness with Rob Dyrdek
White people don’t know this, but Black folks love watching them get hurt doing shit we’d probably get arrested (or killed) for doing. For real, watching white people experience instant karma is cathartic as shit.
Really, you could swap out Phil Collins for Wham, Duran Duran, Kenny Loggins, David Lee Roth, Cindy Lauper, Pat Benetar, Culture Club, Men At Work, Toto or just about any artist prominently featured on Friday Night Videos in the early 80’s.
I mention Phil here for two reasons. One, the man is whiter than the driven snow. I mean, he doesn’t even have lips. Even when Phil was the man, he looked like a chemistry teacher or what would happen if a Chrysler K-Car assumed human form. I also bring him up because the other night I was at a taco joint full of black people in an Irish neighborhood in Chicago (that, by itself, could be a punchline) when “In the Air Tonight” came on the Pandora and, well, the drum part.
Let’s be clear, I don’t care who you are, where you are, what you’re doing, or who you’re doing it with, when the drums kick in on “In the Air Tonight” you better grab your invisible sticks and bang the fuck out. You wanna know who’s cool in your circle of friends? Put that song on and whoever don’t go in on the drums is the Judas of your crew. The “In the Air Tonight” drums are that powerful and although they weren’t made by us, they were clearly made for us.
Black folks love scented shit. Black folks love Cadillacs. Yankee Candles are the Cadillacs of scented shit. Black folks love Yankee Candles. The only time Black people get down with pumpkin spice is if it’s a Yankee Candle because they just go hard like that.
The Dukes of Hazzard
These white boys lived the life. They ain’t have no jobs, they had a sweet ass ride, they ran from the cops, and they busted out of jail every goddamn week. If the General Lee had a Kicker box in the trunk and a sack of loud in the glovebox, throw some doo rags on ‘em and Bo and Luke Duke could’ve got signed to Def Jam Records. I’d even wager to say there’s at least 74 brothas in jail right now after trying to emulate them Duke boys.
Someday the mountain might get’em, but the law never will.
Philadelphia Cream Cheese
Your aunt’s been sneaking that shit into her macaroni since 1981.
Yeah, yeah, yeah. You can front all you want on her, but if Ellen called you up tomorrow and asked you if you wanted to hang out, you’d want to kick it with Ellen. You’d probably go to a store, scare some people, do a stupid dance, cry, and lose all your street cred in the process, but Ellen is just the kinda white people that Black people like hanging out with. Ask the Obamas.
You had me at hello.
Statistics show that 93% of Black people who initially saw this movie did so under the false assumption that it was about a shit talking football star bullying his agent around for about an hour and a half. Little did we know that we were being sucked into the Vanilla Vortex of a white rom-com bookended by pre-couch hopping Tom Cruise and Rene Fucking Zellweger (yeah, Bridget Fucking Jones) with only a splattering on Cuba Gooding Jr. and Regina King to keep us satiated.
But we love that shit.
Don’t believe me? Next time you got some Black folks over at the crib for game night or a cookout or Kwanzaa and you’re looking for some entertainment for the evening, offer them three movies; Belly, The Wood, or Jerry McGuire and I promise you that Jerry McGuire’s gonna get watched first. BET could play it on a random ass Tuesday night and it would get real ratings.
The only other white movie I can think of that gets hood love like that for no reason is The Princess Bride and, maybe, Shawshank Redemption but even that’s got Morgan Freeman in it, so it might not fully count.
St. Patrick’s Day
Not because we like being out in that shit, but because it’s the one day when you get to see the cops bullyfoot on drunk white people. It’s the one day the beast takes its unyielding gaze off us and focuses on the other side of town. It’s the one day when the hood gets to relax.