Thanks For The Memories, Mr. President

When I was a kid, I loved listening to 93.1 WZAK. The Quiet Storm with Kym Sellers and the Mix at Six with DJ Cochise were some of my favorite programs. I also loved Lynn Tolliver and Ralph Poole on the weekends. At the conclusion of every show, they’d end their broadcast by saying “it’s been fun, but it’s time for this glorious sun to run!”

I thought of that tag line while watching Barack Obama’s farewell address, his final speech as the “POTUS.” He spoke with dignity, class and suave debonair; an attitude we’ve now come to expect from him, as we’ve seen it on display time and time again these last 8 years.  He deserved, and received a proper send off in McCormick Park in Chicago, a city that embraced him as a young man trying to make a difference in the world. Obama’s 2 terms as president will go down in the history books almost like a comic book story. A picture-perfect candidate from humble beginnings, blessed by the creator with a super-human ability to relate and orate fighting against the biggest and baddest villain of all time; Republicans. His battles against foreign and domestic terrorists, racist and bigoted media trolls, and the Tea Party will make for quite the page-turner. To quote JAY Z, “Man, and I tell ya/It’ll be a best-seller.” Simply put, Barack Obama is the Bret Hart of presidents; the best there is, the best there was and the best there will ever be.

Was he perfect? No he wasn’t, and none of us walking God’s green Earth are. Did he do everything he could to help advance the cause of Black people? No, he didn’t, but he wasn’t the president of Black people. While he understood the plight of our 13% of the nation’s makeup, he swore an oath to execute the office of the President of the Other 87% Of The Population. Criticize the man if you want to, but before you do so, consider this; how well would you perform in a job that had people intentionally handicapping your ability to lead and enforce progressive policy for no good reason?

I bet you’d quit before lunchtime.

Besides, it’s not like Obama came to your job and knocked the broom out of your hand, so quit crying. (If you don’t get that last sentence,  go ask a Black dude who's at least 40 what it means, don’t ask Siri.)

I can’t fathom how he found the tolerance to take some of the shit people threw his way. I admire Obama for standing tall and firm against egregious accusations of his actual religion and birthplace. Imagine someone telling you that you were from Africa, knowing damn well you’re from Crenshaw Mafia. You’d be ready nut up in the blink of an eye. I know some people who get mad if you confuse Shaker Heights and Cleveland Heights, as if it even matters! (Side note, it does.)

So with that, I say thank you President Obama. Thank you for being an inspirational figure to all of us who came of age during your presidency. Thank you for being a shining example of what a Black man should be; intelligent, well-spoken, a faithful husband and loving father all while being as cool as a cucumber. God Speed Mr. President, I hope you enjoy some Hennessy in peace as the glorious sun sets on your time in the Oval Office.

Am I worried about 4 years of Donald Trump? As the wise philosopher French Montana once said, “Ain’t worried bout nothin’/Nigga I ain’t worried bout nothin! HAAAAAAAAAANNNNHHHHH”