Introspection

I'm not a particularly introspective person, so it's always a surprise to me when I realize something about myself that isn't what I would have guessed.

This morning's New York Times has a page one article about the recent Live Aid concerts in support of the concept of aid being given to African nations. I don't think anyone can doubt that they need it; even though I wonder why it always seems to be us that is supposed to lead the charge, I realize that someone's got to do it. And how would I feel if we found ourselves following the leadership of, say, France?

Though they do make very nice towers.

The moment of insight came when I looked at the picture that accompanies the article. Its a shot of a mass of people in, I guess, Central Park, all emoting in some way. In the right corner of the picture are two people standing up out of the crowd, next to some kind of post or stanchion -- a thin white woman and a thin black man. Seeing it, I wondered if they were staged there for the impact of the picture. It was of course possible that they'd come together, but I was willing to bet that it was a staged photo. Hey, you two stand up there and I'll take your picture!

And then I noticed that the black man had his arm around the white woman's waist. It bothered me. And then it bothered me that it had bothered me.

A generation of appropriate concepts and sentiments flickered through my mind, studded with qualifiers, taglines, and images. Some of my best friends are.... He ain't heavy, he's..... You can probably sing along if you're of my generation. Prejudiced? Me?

I knew pretty much why the picture bothered me -- heck, I probably know exactly why, but I can't bring myself to admit it without a bunch of hedging. I'm surprised to realize that I feel that way. Or that I'm not sure if its something I should do something about. I know the PC answer to that question; I don't know the personal one.