The diversity diet of Scranton Pennsylvania
by Regis Boff
While bunching up the line for homemade rhubarb and kale pies at the Farmers Market Wednesday, I got into a heated exchange with my two girlfriends. Innocently, I mentioned the headway on this “diversity” thing I was making in our village. My tactic, such as it could be flattered, was to invite people of “difference” over to my house for dinner. This way, we would grow more like one another and not so “diverse” anymore. Problems solved.
Well, nothing seems to empty little minds like jealousy. The two annoying magpies chirped that I had “diversity” all wrong, that it meant to accept differences without interference. Things then became frosty, let me tell you.
Without stopping to swallow her saliva, one of them offered that I might be interested in her new diet, which consisted of eating only foods grown in Scranton, Pennsylvania.
It hurt me that my diversity dinners now seemed so inept. Before I could fight back, however, my other friend, now nearly hobbled with rage over the diet thing, briskly offered that she had lost over forty pounds by eating nothing but beets for six months.
Seizing the moment, I snidely assured her that I hardly noticed the red stains around her mouth, then I paid, collected my pies, and left feeling good and childish.
I was unsettled. I had figured that a winning strategy for this diversity riddle was at hand. I had asked a black couple, I barely knew, over for dinner next week to lance our differences.
” So the aim is to keep people different ?” I mulled crestfallen.
Fortunately, the people I had invited to dinner called and canceled. Out of respect for each other, we never tried again.