By David Himmel

Cab Ride #1 — 8 a.m.

There was no indication of the Angry Black Man stereotype. He wasn’t an angry man of any kind, though I think he should have been considering the topic we were discussing. How can the current state of American politics and social issues, and all their history not make every man (woman and in-between) angry? Especially a black man. In Chicago.

“Because that’s the way it’s always been,” he told me. It’s never going to change, so why get all worked up over it?”

The conversation started insignificant enough. “The future is going to be very healthy,” he told me as we passed the third storefront gym being built out. “Everyone’s working out, eating better. We’ll be much healthier in the future.”

“Yeah. Let’s hope there is a future,” I replied immediately regretting how liberal and terrified I sounded.

“Oh, come on. There’s going to be a future. There’s always a future. This is no different than any other time before.”

“You don’t think the country is more polarized now than in years past?”

“This country has always been divided. We’re just louder about it now. Got social media and cable news trying to fill time. This president is an idiot. I don’t like him, but he’s really no different than any other president.”

“No different than Obama?”

“Ha! Trump’s a racist. But Obama didn’t do anything for the black community. So, what’s the difference? It’s all in their tone. Every president says, ‘We must protect our borders from illegal immigration,’” he said in a calm, traditionally presidential tone. “Then Trump says, ‘We must protect our borders from illegal immigration!’” This time he said it more aggressively, like Trump. “And that gets everyone all upset. I get it, but it does not mean the end of our democracy or the end of the America.”

“You don’t think our democracy is being stressed? The Senate refusing to hear from witnesses?”

“That’s no good. Of course not. We have to vote those guys out. But we’ll just end up getting more of the same. Maybe not right away, but eventually. No, I think our democracy is fine. Is it being tested? Maybe. But it’ll be fine. It always has been. As long as there are rich people with something to lose, it’ll remain in place. But know that it will never do a damn thing for black people. Never has. Never will. Because that’s the way it’s always been,” he told me. It’s never going to change, so why get all worked up over it? We just have to do the best we can; keep our heads down and push forward.

“I see so many white folks freaking out. That’s because they’ve never heard this kind of talk this way before. They’re finally hearing what black folks have been hearing since the beginning. This is nothing new. Don’t worry about it. Just do what’s best for you and your family. We’ll all be fine.”

“Still, I’m afraid he’s gonna get reelected.”

“Of course he is.”

When Janet Jackson’s “Love Will Never Do (Without You)” came on the radio, we got quiet to listen to it, both of us tapping the beat out —me on my armrest, he on the steering wheel.

“You know,” I said, “This album had more hits than any other album. More than Thriller. But only seven singles were released—a big mistake by her record label. Or maybe there was some agreement with Michael not to surpass Thriller. Don’t know. There’s a great podcast about this.”

“No one can touch Janet Jackson.”

“Except Justin Timberlake.”

“Fuck Justin Timberlake,” we said in unison.

The rest of the conversation was him dropping serious in-depth knowledge about music on me: The Minnesota Sound, Jam & Lewis, Prince, then New Jack Swing and Teddy Riley and so on… I didn’t have time to ask if he’d worked in the music business—maybe he was a producer or a session player—before we arrived at my destination.

✶

Cab Ride #2 — 9 p.m.

NPR was playing, of course. Trump, the impeachment aftermath was being discussed. This diver wasn’t an angry black man either, but he sure was frustrated.

“This guy, Trump, he is a dictator,” he said almost immediately after pulling away from the curb.

“You think so?”

“He’s a liar! It’s been the same economy for eleven years. He didn’t do anything or change anything. Go look at the number. President Obama created more jobs than him.”

“So what do you feel the state of United States is then? Where are we at?”

“You know, the country I came from was ruled by dictators. This is just the same thing.”

“What country did you come from?”

“Nigeria! Ruled by military dictators. Little by by little bit, you lose your rights. If this guy loses, he might not even want to leave.”

“What are the telltale signs that this is moving toward a dictatorship?”

“When president Clinton was being impeached—people forget—he give up his blood! To be tested for DNA. His own blood, he give it up. This guy refuse to give up documents. That’s one sign. And he doesn’t want anyone to testify. A lot of people in President Clinton’s cabinet testified. He even give up his blood to be tested for DNA. The President of the United States! This guy refuses to give up documents.”

“So what do you think is going to happen?”

“We just have to vote him out. And we will.”

“What if we don’t?”

“We will.”

“But what if we don’t? We have to prepare for the future.”

“We will. We will. Just watch. But you see, during the mid-term election, he was flying all over, campaigning for republicans. Flying because he needed them. We got over forty-six! We gonna come out in full force. Mrs. Clinton lost the election. Seventy thousand votes in three states—Michigan, Pennsylvania, Wisconsin. You know what is different about those three states now? Before the last general election, those three states, they have republican governors. But now, they all have democratic governors.”

“Yeah, but those three states will be up for reelection again.”

“No. Those governors are not up for reelection.

“Okay. But what do we do to prepare just in case.”

“They won’t. They won’t. We out number them.”

“I want your positivity. I’m on your side.”

“We out number them. Independent, Democrat. A lot of people didn’t like Mrs. Clinton. She didn’t do a good job. We understood that now. She was unlikeable. A lot of people stayed home. Stayed home. But this time around, I bet you, they’re not gonna stay home. They didn’t like Mrs. Clinton. She was a bad candidate and she didn’t go to Pennsylvania, Wisconsin, Michigan…”

“You can stop right here. This is my place. Just under that streetlight. Thank you.”

I paid the man. He gave me my receipt.

“Have a good night,” he said calmly.

“You, too. Drive safe.”