Bond ... Julian Bond

So last night right before rehearsal I get a phone call. It's from an old friend of mine, Mary Flo.

"Hey Clinton. It's your old friend, Mary Flo."

See? Told ya'.

She proceeds to tell me that she was looking through The Washington Post when she saw an ad for Am I Black Enough Yet?. (For a brief moment it occurrs to me that for most of my life I never thought I would write a show, much less have it produced, much less have it advertised in The Washington Post.)

"Oh," I said, checking my phone's clock to see how much time I had until rehearsal started.

Mary Flo went on to tell me that she was excited and proud of me. I apologized to her for not sending her a script and explained how much it has been in flux. And she said, "Oh. Well, that's exciting isn't it?" and I felt like directing her to my previous blog post. And we talked about how long the show was going to run and her intention to go up and see it. She then said that if we were lucky, she would bring her friend, Julian Bond with her.

For those who don't know, Julian Bond is Julian Bond, and he teaches at the University of Virginia, though it's not like I ever see him around town, but it's actually quite plausible that he may be on "hanging out terms" with people I know.

Now this excited me. How cool would that be? The Julian Bond might go to see my little play about examining Blackness. "Now that," I thought, "was pretty cool." ... until I remembered ...

Until it hit me, until I put two and two together, until it came down like a bolt, like a brick, like a crest falling ... the penultimate piece in the first act, a piece that stays with a lot of people, looks at intra-Black prejudice through the device of NAACP attitudes.

Oh shit. Oh crap. Oh God!!! What is my life that I write a small piece in my dinky play and have to worry about pissing off the head of the NAACP? The head of the NAACP!! I admit I've not had much contact with the NAACP, but I certainly have never looked forward to being denounced by them.

Oy!