The language between blacks and whites was so different it took me a while to understand what either was saying to me. Remember, I said the brother called me a dog? Well, I thought that sort of slang was universal to all the people of The City of Golden Streets. My ignorance of the culture got me in trouble in a big way. I walked up to this white girl and greeted her with a rowdy, "What's up dawg?" Now you know the old saying that white men can't jump? Well, I learned real quick that white women can jump because that short woman jumped up and slapped me across the face. Later I recounted the story to my friend from The Hoosier City and he educated me on the finer points of language between the whites and the blacks. Apparently some slang words were exclusive to each race, like in The Blue Grass Mountains, people called you cuz, or son, or even boy. Blacks were calling me Dawg, Homeboy, and some even used the n word. Where I am from everyone used the same slang and spoke with the same rhythm; it was a national thing. Riots, revolution, invasion, this island boy thought he had experienced everything, that is until he migrated to the Kentucky mountains. Blacks, he could not understand, whites, well that mountain twang was another language to him. From state to state, big city to little towns being slapped by culture shock as he tries to assimilate.This memoir will make you think, be a little angry at times, but most of all, it will make you laugh your a.... off.