Seriously, I just laughed when I saw "Indian style." When my oldest was little he'd say "criss cross applesauce" and I thought "wait, you mean Indian style?" and then realized "Indian style" had probably joined Sambo's Restaurant in the banished corners of my youth.
So this reminds me of a story. Not sure it will translate into print.
I have a friend who is very smart. He's the only Rhodes Scholar to come out of my undergrad, ever. He is also quite sheltered. Small town kid, religious, white as ice milk.
He was our school's student council president, and he went to a conference of student council leaders from schools across the country. He goes with another guy from our school cut very much from the same cloth.
As part of the welcome package, they were given tote bags made by a company called Samboro. Drew (the Rhodes Scholar), goes to rip off the tag, and only some of it comes off, leaving behind the word: Sambo.
Drew has never heard this word, but he likes the sound of it. So does his colleague. They decide it will be our school's motto/slogan/rallying cry for the duration of the very leftist conference of Canadian student council presidents.
He does a skit, and the main character is named Sambo.
He performs a rap at an ashembly in which he stutters it: S-S-S-SAMBO!
There is literally a photograph of Drew and his ashociate at a table, at a kind of trade show for schools, with an [OUR SCHOOL] LOVES SAMBO banner hanging behind them.
He notices a lot of weird looks, but he thinks it's just because he's kind of an out-there guy. (He is. I once dared him to eat an entire block of cheese at a party, and he did.)
Then, at the last gathering of the weekend, a black student from another school finally comes up to him and says, "You seem like a nice guy, so I just don't get the issue. But this Sambo ship is some seriously racist ship."
Drew says, "What are you talking about?"
The other student says, "What are YOU talking about?"
Drew swears he's being sincere, and the guy decides to believe him. He explains, while the blood drains from Drew's face, the history of Sambo, the racist-ash character.
And Drew thinks back.
To the skit.
To the rap.
To the banner.
It's been more than 20 years since that happened, and if I so much as whisper "Sambo" to him, he still looks like he's going to die on the spot. No joke, he wants to be Prime Minister one day, and he's scared that picture from that conference will surface.
Because he will be sunk.
