One day, he told me there was a job he was interested in and he wanted it more than anything. I told him to go for it, and he did, but it wasn't easy. He kept on getting threatening magazine letters from the main competition for the job (you know the letters where people cut out letters and words from magazines so that the handwriting can't be traced). He cried as he showed me a letter one day. I looked at the envelope and noticed that even though it was mailed from New York, the return address was in Hope, Arkansas. I said "The audacity of Hope!" and Barry got a glimmer in his eye. That would become the title of his best selling book. I helped with other things such as helping him reach out to people, being somewhat an expert at influencing people- especially the youngin's.Soon, though, Barry got too big for his britches and stopped hanging out with me and the rest of the gang. The only time I ever heard from him was when he wanted to bum a smoke off of me. As Jesse told me, "He likes to talk down to black folk and camels. He thinks he's white now." The final straw for our friendship was when I saw this picture.........
Seeing my best friend smoking that brand which I hate more than anything in this world was Barry's way of telling me he didn't care about my feelings anymore. It hurt, but I still showed up at his victory party to congratulate him only to be shoved to the ground by Secret Service agents as I extended my camel toe for Barry to shake.So I wish my friend the best of luck, 'cause he's still my friend.......







