I was watching an ice dancing competition on TV the other night and saw one couple in which the man was black. I would use the politically correct term of African-American except I’m not sure if he was an American. At any rate, when he took the ice with his partner, I thought to myself, “Wow. Talk about being a minority. Being a black ice dancer has to win some kind of award in that category.”
These are the philosophical thoughts that come to my mind on a Saturday night as I sip my sugar free lemonade and tequila. Deal with it.