Daddy meant well. After all, surreptitiously watching black people on TV is the gateway to miscegenation.
Now, I’d give my kids a stern talking-to if I caught them, say, watching “Jersey Shore” but… damn.
I knew better, too, but I was desperate to consume as much Michael Jackson as I possibly could in those days, so I gambled. Alas, Daddy could hear the skin color on the TV, even with the volume dialed down to 1.
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