If you did indeed “trip the light fandango,” the use of the word in bed might prove you white. Hell, all of the members of Procol Harum were your problem. Procol Harum were the only all white British band on The Big Chill soundtrack. So if you did, to use the next lyric, “turned cartwheels cross the floor, (naked)” well, that might explain your sterility, your inability to have children now and why you’re adopting. Procol Harum’s presence on The Big Chill soundtrack isn’t terribly different than the babies available for adoption, there are very few white ones in a field of darker options.
I’m working off the top of my head and I think the next lyric is, “you were feeling kinda’ seasick,” but don’t worry about the next line or the band crying out for more … it’s time to adopt. You already did yourself in with the cartwheels. Remember?
The reason that you’re seasick? Adoption is scary.
So now adoption, and you’re pretty clear that you don’t want a bullfrog named Jeremiah. Well, you might consider a black child, they are considerably cheaper than adopting a white child. “Joy to the World, all the boys and girls,” and, of course, your bank account.
Adoption is tough, tougher to have a black kid with white parents. You can load his iPod with much Eminem but, he/she’s going to know they are not white.
You want a white kid? Well, that’s going to cost you.
NPR in their recent “Six Word Series,” gave me this, Six Words: ‘Black Babies Cost Less To Adopt’
Or, as my Pakistani friend, who wishes he was a mixed child like Christiane Amanpour put it….Black baby: $18k. Biracial: $24-26k. White: $35k
Turns out it’s true. And she could be president. The adopted child from Ethiopia or the Crenshaw District, not the Iranian born one like Ms. Amanpour.
I could continue with both the difficulty of adoption, especially if you get them at a later age. I could easily speak of something I don’t know anything of despite having grown up with adopted children. Adoption is difficult at its base level and tough for anyone considering it.
Thankfully, unlike ruining Santa Claus for my older first cousin, when I let it slip that Santa Clause wasn’t real. I never had to worry about accidentally slipping around my black friends who were adopted by white parents. I think they knew.
The Big Chill Soundtrack, is something I could equally continue on, but to take good music and diffuse an impossible choice is just tough.
I could make light of certain songs and their titles … but, someone, simply, has just got a new child to love.
