By Daniel McAdams
Went to an event tonight in Houston with my son who also functions as my wingman, bodyguard, etc. Russia Day celebration put on by Russian consulate in Houston. I know that just by accepting this kind invitation and attending the event it makes me Putin’s lapdog and an enemy of freedom, but hear me out. Also at the event were two local staffers of a Congressman from Texas, partaking in free food and drink. Both of these staffers were non-white in ethnic origin, one being Hispanic and the other seemingly Filipino. The relatively superficial conversation started the usual way: are you new to the area, do you like it, why, etc. I answered by stating my genuine affection for Houston and particularly its wonderfully diverse ethnic food offerings: Indian, Chilean, Argentinian, Vietnamese, Mexican, you name it I’ve eaten it. I said that being a southern California boy cruelly transplanted to Washington, D.C., I was tortured for 13 years by lack of good Mexican food, which I was raised on, and that finally in Houston I could partake in the amazing Mex and Tex-Mex offerings which were indeed a slice of heaven. I was eagerly admitting to being multi-culti when it comes to the table.
“Huurruummmppphh,” said the Filipino staffer. “I would have expected you would only like sauerkraut and German food,” she said, “being white.”
At the time I laughed it off, saying, “are you kidding? I grew up eating Mexican food on nearly every holiday. That is just how you lived in southern California.”
I never even thought of being offended.
But then I started thinking about what she said. It was a kind of hate speech. A brown-skinned woman telling me that because I was white I should only be interested in eating German food. Imagine if I had said to an African-American interested in French cuisine that I was shocked he did not limit his culinary interest to fried chicken. It would rightly be considered disgustingly racist. But this denizen of the P.C. universe felt it completely non-controversial to hurl a comparably racist generality in my direction, confident that I would brush it off and not shriek into an embryonic state demanding a safe space from this hate crime.
I was so happy when my wingman son accidentally spilled a glass of wine from the table onto these racist hate-speechers. They left in a hurry so we could go back to gnawing on beef, my real safe space. Ha ha!
(The above originally appeared at LewRockwell.com)