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Informationen zum Autor David Alan Grier Klappentext FROM GROWING UP IN DETROIT, where he marched as a ten-year-old with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., to attending the inauguration of President Barack Obama, where he narrowly avoided the Purple Tunnel of Doom but still saw nothing, David Alan Grier examines how he -- and America -- have changed for the better and the funnier. Within these pages, Grier imagines being called to serve in President Obama's cabinet as the "secretary of mirth"; takes you to a wild and emotional election night party he hosted that didn't go as planned; explains the true meaning of the "magical Negro"; recalls the formative episodes from his life -- including being rejected by the Black Panthers at their headquarters door and turning down the initial offer to work on In Living Color -- and for the first time ever sneaks you backstage at Dancing with the Stars , where he exposes the inner workings of the show -- the camaraderie between dancers and stars, the excruciatingly painful rehearsals, the outrageous preparations, and each hysterical moment of his four-episode appearance and subsequent public meltdown. Grier unabashedly muses on politics, culture, and race while recounting his own life story in this edgy, timeless, hilarious, and revelatory memoir and look at all things Barack. Barack Like Me is David Alan Grier at his best -- the man, comic, and twenty-first-century thinker -- funny, brilliant, and original. Leseprobe BARACK Like Me 1 SECRETARY OF MIRTH Yes, we can! And yes, we did. We won! January 2009. Going on two and a half months now and they haven't taken it back. I still don't trust it. Every morning when I wake up I check and double-check. I need confirmation. First thing I do is blink a couple of times to make sure I'm not dreaming. I lean over and kiss my wife, Christine, kiss and nuzzle my daughter, Luisa, check myself, see if I'm alive, yep, got all my parts, turn on CNN and NPR at the same time, even flip to Fox News, and yesconfirmit's still true. Barack Obama is president of the United States. It really happened. Elected in a landslide, too. Over 69 million people voted for him, poked that chad, popped that cherry. Sixty-nine million people. Incredible. Amazing. Historic. True. And here we are, Christine and I, invited guests to the Purple Ball on Inauguration Day, slammed up against the stage in this hangar-sized ballroom, purple neon strobe light stabbing our eyes, a throng of people mashed up against us, waiting for President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle to arrive. I admit it. I am in awe of this man. Today he will speak and dance at ten inaugural balls. Ten. Tomorrow he'll be up at 5:00 a.m. to start his presidency. He promises to hit the ground running. Are you serious? I wouldn't have gotten out of bed for three days. A black president. Can you get your head around that? We've had black presidents before, but only on television and in the movies. And the moment a black guy becomes president, the world is about to end. Like in the movie Deep Impact , President Morgan Freeman doesn't merely inherit the worst economic crisis in a century. No. That would be too easy. He inherits an asteroid flying through space about to blow up the earth. In the back of my mind, I worry that Barack Obama's presidency is doomed to fail. A young guy I spoke to on the street in New York said it best: It's obviously a plot. It's rigged....
Autorentext
David Alan Grier
Klappentext
FROM GROWING UP IN DETROIT, where he marched as a ten-year-old with Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., to attending the inauguration of President Barack Obama, where he narrowly avoided the Purple Tunnel of Doom but still saw nothing, David Alan Grier examines how he -- and America -- have changed for the better and the funnier.
Within these pages, Grier imagines being called to serve in President Obama's cabinet as the "secretary of mirth"; takes you to a wild and emotional election night party he hosted that didn't go as planned; explains the true meaning of the "magical Negro"; recalls the formative episodes from his life -- including being rejected by the Black Panthers at their headquarters door and turning down the initial offer to work on In Living Color -- and for the first time ever sneaks you backstage at Dancing with the Stars, where he exposes the inner workings of the show -- the camaraderie between dancers and stars, the excruciatingly painful rehearsals, the outrageous preparations, and each hysterical moment of his four-episode appearance and subsequent public meltdown.
Grier unabashedly muses on politics, culture, and race while recounting his own life story in this edgy, timeless, hilarious, and revelatory memoir and look at all things Barack.
Barack Like Me is David Alan Grier at his best -- the man, comic, and twenty-first-century thinker -- funny, brilliant, and original.
Leseprobe
BARACK Like Me
SECRETARY OF MIRTH
Yes, we can!
And yes, we did.
We won!
January 2009. Going on two and a half months now and they haven’t taken it back.
I still don’t trust it. Every morning when I wake up I check and double-check. I need confirmation.
First thing I do is blink a couple of times to make sure I’m not dreaming. I lean over and kiss my wife, Christine, kiss and nuzzle my daughter, Luisa, check myself, see if I’m alive, yep, got all my parts, turn on CNN and NPR at the same time, even flip to Fox News, and yes—confirm—it’s still true.
Barack Obama is president of the United States.
It really happened.
Elected in a landslide, too. Over 69 million people voted for him, poked that chad, popped that cherry. Sixty-nine million people.
Incredible. Amazing. Historic.
True.
And here we are, Christine and I, invited guests to the Purple Ball on Inauguration Day, slammed up against the stage in this hangar-sized ballroom, purple neon strobe light stabbing our eyes, a throng of people mashed up against us, waiting for President Barack Obama and First Lady Michelle to arrive.
I admit it. I am in awe of this man. Today he will speak and dance at ten inaugural balls. Ten. Tomorrow he’ll be up at 5:00 a.m. to start his presidency. He promises to hit the ground running. Are you serious? I wouldn’t have gotten out of bed for three days.
A black president. Can you get your head around that? We’ve had black presidents before, but only on television and in the movies. And the moment a black guy becomes president, the world is about to end. Like in the movie Deep Impact, President Morgan Freeman doesn’t merely inherit the worst economic crisis in a century. No. That would be too easy. He inherits an asteroid flying through space about to blow up the earth.
In the back of my mind, I worry that Barack Obama’s presidency is doomed to fail. A young guy I spoke to on the street in New York said it best: “It’s obviously a plot. It’s rigged.”
I keep hearing those words: it’s rigged. Meaning that the only way that America elected a black man is because stuff is so fucked up, nobody can solve the problems. They put the brotha in to fail. And when he fails, they’ll say, “See? We told you,” and it’s back to business as usual. We’ll be lucky if a black guy gets elected president of the NAACP.
At the Purple Ball, my attention turns to a commotion from somewhere behind the stage. I hear urgent whispers and voices crackling through walkie-talkies, music suddenly blares, cranked up, and screaming, cheering, and applause from the hundreds of people behind me pound me like a thunderclap, and I gasp, I literally gasp, a lump rises in my…