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Reactions to Barack Obama’s bright, pitch-perfect speech on Tuesday showed how his candidacy has divided America. It ain’t pretty, but Obama has indeed threshed the noble from the nasty.

Conversationalists vs. Screamers. Obama’s speech was inarguably heartfelt and profound. It opened a door for anyone wishing to explore the many histories of American grievances, if only to see how they overlap. He noted how things have gotten better and that we can make things better still.

On cue, the screamers yelled that it “wasn’t enough” and “it’s too late” and besides, Obama wasn’t serious if didn’t haul out Rev. Wright for a lynching. (Politicized Christians practice forgiveness on a case-by-case basis. Rev. Wright does not qualify; he’s not a white married Southern Republican family values senator caught in diapers with a hooker.)

Rational vs. Emotional. For those of us patiently awaiting a 21st century we can relate to, Obama underscored a crucial point: Old racial wounds are a legitimate source of anger in older people. Knee-jerk racism is expected, and can be forgiven, in older people. Young people aren’t hauling that baggage; now is the time to resume improving who we are as a nation.

The drama queens of the right wing will have none of that. The conservative id requires ugliness, any ugliness, to remain in power.

The best attack Obama’s enemies could muster? Obama “throws his grandmother under the bus.” But they use it, with pride.

Travelers vs. Tourists. Travelers like new places, new experiences. Tourists, no matter where they go in the world, feel entitled to Budweiser and IHOP. Obama is a traveler, a modern man. His extended family runs the gamut of hues and nationalities. Tourists distrust anyone who doesn’t resemble an identically groomed member of the tribe. (Ironically, it’s been generations since a national politician looked as good in a suit and tie as Obama.)

Grown-ups vs. Big Whiny Babies. Obama’s speech was nuanced, mindful of how complex and subtle imperfections will exist within good people. This is how successful adults see humanity. Big whiny babies — about 20 percent of our population, it seems — see people as only Good or Evil. They bellow that Obama can’t possibly mean a word of his speech, he’s really a con man, and can’t you see how scary he is? His ju-ju is so powerful he even got white men under his spell!

I read a factoid not long ago that shocked me even as it made sense. The exact datum escapes me but the gist is that hardly any white people have had dinner at a black person’s home. The cruder point is that few whites have hung out with non-whites.

My fellow whiteys, you have been robbed. I grew up in what you now call “a multi-cultural environment.” As a child and through college I roamed what you now call “the ‘hood.” My pals were what everyone today feels compelled to call “black” and “Latino” or “Hispanic” and “Asian” or “Asian-America” and/or “African-American.” Labels. Feh. In Wyoming no one calls me “Californian-American.”

My parents were sharp. Before Martin Luther King coined his elegant phrase, in our household you judged people by the content of their character. Period. Not only have I enjoyed plenty of dinners in households of people not the same color as me (I’m beige; they’re all manner of pinkish-beige-to-mocha variations) but knowingly and purposefully did other stuff with ‘em. Drank coffee at Denny’s ‘til all hours. Drove around talking. Went to movies. Swapped books. (“Black Like Me oh man that blew my mind. What’d you think of Ray Bradbury?” “Sheeee-yit.”)

There’s a unique word for this sort of relationship, where superficialities are irrelevant: friendship. (You know, considering what the reactionaries have to say about Obama’s speech, and how they use slick language today to express the same filthy thoughts of yore, let me call those old relationships “friendships-and-fuck- what-the-dumbass-crackers-think.”)

A fond college memory is the prank cooked up by my friend Tommy Thompson, who was studying to become a lawyer. It’s how we amused ourselves when, being college kids, it wasn’t enough to go into a supermarket and just buy something. Statements had to be made. So I’d ask the manager, “Sir, I’m looking for the flesh-colored Band-Aids?”

“They’re on aisle five.”

“I looked. The Band-Aids are for him.” And I’d yank my thumb toward not-beige Tommy.

I admit that that’s a mean joke to pull on some poor guy who had nothing to do with Johnson & Johnson’s product line. Still, back then millions of Americans felt excluded when the national definition of “flesh-colored” was “fish belly-like.” In everyday life, white ascendency assumed everyday form although few were as shocking and hurtful as Pat Boone covering Little Richard’s “Tutti-Frutti.” And today “flesh-colored” is duly liberalized.

That prank was the extent of my anti-racist activism. That plus my life-long rejection of the concept of race. Ever since Obama announced his candidacy, TV windbags go on and on about race and racism and racialism and raceiousness and raciosity and race-itude. They constantly ask, “How much is Obama’s race a factor?” They never ask this question the way it should be asked: “How many ignorant voters are there, and should they be allowed to vote?”

We grown-up, rational travelers no longer want to talk about race. We don’t need to. “Talking about race” is how racists wallow in racism without being called racists because “we’re having a serious talk about race.”

Intelligent political observers have adopted the term “post-racial” to describe Obama. He never brought up the subject of race before because he knows it’s a ruse, a trap, a diversion. It’s important to realize that the zeitgeist forced Obama into performing “Obama’s race speech.”

He did it. You happy? Now let’s go back to being post-racial. That’s Obama. That’s me. And that’s that.

So shut up about race. The race-conscious have staked their positions. No new information is forthcoming. The rest of us, as usual, will work around them. Attention must be paid, anyway, not to navel-gazing but the real work ahead. America is about to be saved from from old greedy power-mad war-happy Constitution-ripper-uppers.

That was Obama’s final point. Keep your eye on the ball. Unlike me, he made that point with class. Most of all, I miss having a president who can show some class.

Posted under barack obama, democratic party, politics, republican party, snimp