If you haven’t been over to Think Pretty Smart’s site to read this guest post Winter is Coming then run over there real quick and read up on this synopsis of Game of Thrones regarding how:
Black women’s viewership of this series is like none I’ve seen before for this genre. Why is this so? Because every man they’ve ever dated and every relationship they’ve ever had are captured in Game of Thrones characters. What is strikingly obvious to those of us with too much wine and free time is that Game of Thrones is the perfect dysphemism for black relationships.
I miss T.E.D so much…the whole post brought me joy. Go ahead. Catch up. I’ll wait…
Ok. Got it? Good.
I was all down with it, head nodding & laughing – co-signing the whole post until I got to the part about us “got a man” women:
Sir Jamie and Queen Cersai Lannister – They are brother and sister… just like you and your man.
Oh yes I did.
You do realize that men and women often fall in love with and/or marry people that remind them of family members they either idolize or have a subconscious yearning to fix, right? Freud isn’t just how the British pronounce this word --> fried.
I was still laughing & head nodding but wait…I didn’t marry my relative. Seriously. Naw. The FireMarshall ain’t like none of the men in my family. Then I had to pull up and mull that over for a minute. There were technically only two men around that I knew while growing up – my Dad & his Father. The FireMarshall isn’t anything like my father, but I’ll be damn if he, when I sat back and recalled all the memories of my grandfather, isn’t just like my GPa Richard. Well, I’ll be damned. I did marry someone “that reminded me of a family member they idolized”…and I worshipped my Grandpa.
GPa Richard was a quiet, man’s man. I looked up at him in awe. He didn’t say much, but when he did – it was the law, the TRUTH. He took care of his Kingdom and the Queen (GMa Willie) like nobody’s business. I lived with my grandparents for a year or two while I was in grade school and I remember fondly how he used to pick me up from school and take me to McDonalds almost everyday for a treat and I often used to get the apple pie (remember when they came in that red box with the rectangle hole down the center) and then wear the box on my feet like a shoe. Why? I dunno. But he used to help me with them on all the time with the amused look on his face. I remember him laying on this white chaise lounger (it is gosh awful ugly now…and GMa Willie still has it) reading the paper and he would let me lie there on his chest and pretend read with him. I found out years later, that when he knew he was dying, that he made sure everything (and I mean everything) was in his name, insured against or covered so that when he passed, GMa Willie would want for nothing. The house, the car, the everything was paid in full and she had some money to boot. SECURITY. PROTECTION.
KING OF HIS REALM.
And I married a man just like him. I could make point by point comparisons but, suffice it to say…I married my Grandpa.
Winter may be coming…but my man is on The Throne with protectors on The Wall. Let it come.
