My dad fought in the Newark riots. The Cosby Show was sort of mandatory viewing in our house. Not even mandatory – we looked forward to it.
My heart hurts. Because, as my friend MiAngelo says, where there’s smoke, there’s fire. And I hate it. Because my father expected better. He thought he had better. He fought for more than this.
I’m sort of glad that my dad is beyond where he can care.
But I’m not.