“Stings A Little, Don’t It?”

— Sho Nuff, the Shogun of Harlem (“The Last Dragon” 1985)

Maybe thirty-five years ago, I was at the LASFS (Los Angeles Science Fiction Society) clubhouse in Burbank. I was one of only two black people who generally showed up on Thursday evenings. The other was a guy named Ken. Ken was a smart guy, tall and fat and jolly. He was often the butt of jokes, and he seemed to roll with it without complaint. This night, they were serving snacks at the clubhouse, and as it was summertime, there was watermelon. I love watermelon, but avoided it in this context. Ken dove in, and to the…