As I looped around the west end of the park on my slow, late afternoon jog, something strange popped into my vision. A man, jogging even slower than me, with a long white beard and glasses...waving a giant, Confederate flag.I thought I had to go outside of the city to see stuff like that. Stuff like stickers that say: Don't blame me, I voted for Jefferson Davis. Figurines carefully placed on shelves of black people eating watermelon. That racist flag.
Oh, that's right. I am forgetting my Southern history indoctrination. The Civil War was not about racism or slavery, but about states' rights. States' rights to do what? Oh yeah. States' rights to own slaves.
I suddenly felt extremely uncomfortable with the African American couple that had been jogging behind me. What do I do? Apologize for idiot Caucasians? Better yet, rally them to help me physically attack this man?
"That flag!" I heard the man behind me gasp to his partner.
Doing nothing seems weak. It's allowing this white fool to creep in from the Confederacy outside of the city lines to deliberately offend people. Confronting him makes you look like a freak.
I did nothing.
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