"HEY! HO! IT'S THE WHITE NEGRO!"
by
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Life for me couldn't have been better! The absolute madness that I
was enjoying had been moving along without a hitch, and to share the madness
with the Moreau gang only made it that much more fun! And in the year of 1977,
the sickness seemed to have a mind of its own!
There was another backwards trip through the Midtown tunnel, and a
100 MPH bullet through an abandoned toll plaza. (The extensions were
still up on the Southern State Parkway, and I made some of Menace's teammates
from his college team...cry...as I pulled this stunt.) There was some
more engulfing from the “Engulfer,” which aided Clyde and me tremendously, as
the “engulfing” brought out any of the inhibitions these two tanned female
hitchhiker’s may have had before they dared to enter his domain.
There was a fight I had with a ranked heavyweight fighter, who was
being “idolized” for just showing up at a club after he got thrashed in his
last fight. He heard that I had bet against him and wasn’t too pleased! (As I
knew he wouldn't win, but because he was white all the white suckers bet
heavily on him. A sweet $100 for that one!) I
stood my ground, but somehow Clouseau got caught in the middle, and got thrown
in the air until a wall stopped him! That’s All Folks!
Another time, Strutter and me, confronted an Islander honkey
player, and his boys in a local pub's bathroom, resulting in me throwing the
“tough” guy into the urinal! I promised I wouldn't tell his loyal fans though,
so his secret is still safe today.
Hanging from a chandelier at another club got me tossed, but not
before I mooned the paying customers! (A feat not easily achieved when I had to
hold on to the chandelier with my other hand!)
A night when we scared the hell out of Pistol and his friend, when
Menace, Clyde, and myself, posed as crazed killers attempting to break into his
house when his parents were away. We all wore stockings over our heads (mine
was white) and carried knifes, threatening to kill the two of them! It
got so wild that they finally called the cops, whereas Pistol ended up on a
cop’s lap, before he even had a chance to get out of his car!
The night when Strutter and me (along with some of his friends
from high school) went out to the
Then there was the morning where, on another dare, of course, where
I stood at a bus stop butt naked until the bus arrived. I had to stay there no
matter how many people were waiting, and on this day there were seven. (I
refused to do it if there were any kids around, and none showed.) Five men, one
matronly woman, and a hot babe that I know got her money's worth! An easier
bet I never had!
The night I jumped from the top of one moving truck to another in
the city. (They were passing each other in opposite directions.)
Breaking in on a couple, that were doing
it at a cheap hotel. I stayed for five minutes trying to impress upon them the
need to wear condoms, explaining the importance of avoiding sexual diseases and
the like. They didn't see the humor, while never leaving the bed though.
Eventually, the slut had the nerve to call the front desk, but I was gone
before she dialed the second number.
The day I drove on my motorcycle naked to a local fast food drive
thru. Placed the order, received the food, and was on my way back to deliver
the food to some more non-believers! Forty dollars for that one!
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About the Book
“Hey! Ho! It’s the White Negro!” is a not so contemporary true story
about a white boys odyssey (from his grammar school days in the late fifties to
the present day) to find the meaning of life while having to struggle with all
of its prejudices and the many deceptive women he meets along the way. The
title directly reflects how he found himself caught in between both sides of
one of society’s biggest ills, and indirectly the women who changed him from a
naïve romantic into the seasoned veteran he eventually becomes towards the
opposite sex, because of their disingenuous ways. It is written entirely from
his experiences as a streetwise kid to adulthood, and, although it is not a
tame portrayal of what his life was like, it is a highly entertaining
page-turner that would fascinate even the harshest cynic.
In this politically correct world
in which we live in, this tale boasts not only of the hypocrisy of correctness,
but the fallacy of incorrectness as well, as he learns to deal with the
inconsistencies of both views while trying to stay true to himself--A modern day “No Man is an
This first person narrative is
not only an account of the quandary he found himself in (in being the “White
Negro”) but also relates all the hair raising exploits he got into (some very
humorous) as they were the outlet he needed to forget about the total insanity
that surrounded him.
Along the way of this arduous
journey he set forth for himself he recalls all the trials and tribulations
that he felt were the important ingredients, which
contributed to what ultimately became a full awareness of who he was, and to
what he had learned while on this quest. Not only the hardships he
endured, but also the camaraderie he formed with five unique individuals, an
effervescent in-law, and a sport, which had the most therapeutic effect on him
that no analyst could have ever accomplished.
The power of “Hey!
Ho! It’s the White Negro!” comes from its main theme that compasses what
most humans--on the surface--would never condone themselves;
deception, prejudice, and/or self righteousness, but who internally think the
opposite of what they preach no matter the race, age, sex or creed.
About the Author
Phil Gardella
was raised in