I'm Someone's Husband? Me? Really?

(Damon's latest at EBONY on the word "husband" and how he doesn't quite feel like one — or at least the movie version of one — yet) Suggested Reading Rumi Carter’s Funniest Moment Even Made Beyoncé Stop Singing and Giggle Why Diddy, Young Thug Attorney Brian Steel Is The White Johnnie Cochran ‘Sinners’ Releases in…

(Damon's latest at EBONY on the word "husband" and how he doesn't quite feel like one — or at least the movie version of one — yet)

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Trump’s Tariffs Might Stick Around. What Should We Buy Now?
Trump’s Tariffs Might Stick Around. What Should We Buy Now?

When I think of a husband, I think of a character Dennis Haysbert or Danny Glover or some other deep-voiced, barred chested man would play in a family melodrama revolving around a Black family in Memphis or Cleveland. They’d have a rugged, distinguished handsomeness earned from decades of being a Black man on Earth, they’d be the voice of reason in every circumstance, they’d dress in calm, earthy tones, and their name would be “John” or “James.” I also think about an aint-shit character Michael Beach or Malik Yoba would play; a successful husband to a successful wife who’ve created a successful, upper-middle class life together that’ll soon crumble because of his aint-shit-ness.

I think about my dad. My uncles. And both my dad’s dad and my mom’s dad. I think about the White guy with the dog and the three and a half kids who used to live across the street from me. I think about Barack Obama. The pastor at my church. My coaches in college. I think about those guys in the Lexus commercials that air around Christmas time. And the guys in the Wrangler commercials during NFL games. I think of Walter Lee Younger. And both the movie and the real life versions of Malcolm X. I think of those anonymous guys with their topcoats and leather briefcases who’d be on the EBA when I used to catch the EBA to work. I think about the men in the stands when I attend my nephew’s AAU basketball games. Shit, I even think about Al Bundy and Stedman Graham

I do not, however, think about myself. Which doesn’t seem to make much sense, because I am someone’s mother f****g husband now. And not only am I a husband, I have a wife. A mother f***g wife!!! Me!

(Read the rest at EBONY)

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