It’s been an ugly week for America, but we reap what we sow. Somewhere along the line we have forgotten that respect for others and a basic sense of decorum outweighs our personal sense of outrage and slight. Nothing seems to matter anymore except opening our mouths and spewing out whatever is on our minds, no matter how ugly.
Last Wednesday, Jim Wilson failed to control his tongue during the President’s speech to Congress, sparking outrage among the Democrats and embarrassment amongst many Republicans. In the spirit of political debate, opposition during a Presidential speech has been generally restricted to “boo’s,” murmuring and a conspicuous lack of clapping. Although this might not be considered polite, it is a reasonable expression of disapproval and more acceptable than being a hypocrite (don’t clap, smile and nod if you don’t agree). Still, a Congressman yelling out “You Lie!” to the President of the United States during a speech in the Capital of the United States crossed a line that brought immediate admonition from the Republican Party and a hasty apology from Wilson.
“This evening I let my emotions get the best of me when listening to the President’s remarks regarding the coverage of illegal immigrants in the health care bill. While I disagree with the President’s statement, my comments were inappropriate and regrettable. I extend sincere apologies to the President for this lack of civility.”
First, let me say “Kudos” to the Republican Party for calling Wilson on his behavior, and especially John McCain for his gentlemanly rebuke of Wilson. McCain called the outburst “totally disrespectful” and there was “no place for it in that setting or any other.” Good for him! Disagreement doesn’t have to make you “disagreeable.”
I had decided not to write about Wilson last week since I didn’t want to write another political piece (I’d like to keep a few friends and not be kicked out of my family, if I can help it). But there seemed to be something in the water this fine week in September and an epidemic of nasty behavior broke out in our country. This was not a political issue…it was a human issue.
Saturday, tennis professional Serena Williams verbally attacked a line judge at the U.S. Open for what she perceived to be a questionable line ruling. Angrily pointing her racket at the judge, she said (according the Associated Press reports), “If I could, I would take this ... ball and shove it down your ... throat.” Apparently, there were some choice words that the AP would not print.
An apology was issued on Sunday. "(Saturday) night everyone could truly see the passion I have for my job," Serena stated. "Now that I have had time to gain my composure, I can see that while I don't agree with the unfair line call, in the heat of battle I let my passion and emotion get the better of me and as a result handled the situation poorly."
There are those pesky “emotions” again.
On Sunday, Kanye West jumped on stage during the MTV Music Awards, stopping the acceptance speech of Taylor Swift for Best Female Video to say that “Beyonce had one of the best videos of all time.” Swift was understandably surprised by the interruption and left the stage without finishing her speech. Later in the show, when the Beyonce video in question won for Video of the Year, Beyonce exhibited a spectacular amount of class and respect for others by offering the microphone to Swift to finish her earlier speech.
West later apologized on his blog, writing "I'M SOOOOO SORRY TO TAYLOR SWIFT AND HER FANS AND HER MOM. I SPOKE TO HER MOTHER RIGHT AFTER AND SHE SAID THE SAME THING MY MOTHER WOULD'VE SAID. SHE IS VERY TALENTED!"
I know what my mom would have said (and would say to me today), “you should be ashamed of yourself!” My Dad would probably say “go get a switch.”
Somehow we’ve traded basic behavior guides like “do unto others as you would have them do unto you” and “if you can’t say something nice, don’t say anything at all” for “do whatever you want and apologize for it later.”
As a parent, I’ve tried to teach my kids to do the right thing. It hasn’t been easy. I have problems with that sometimes myself. We all make mistakes, and I make more than my fair share. Still, I think Connie and I have done a pretty good job of instilling a basic respect for others in our children. We’ve tried to make them aware that their actions do not just affect themselves, but an unknown wave of others caught in the tremors of those actions.
This applies to both acts and words. I have never seen a ghost, but I’ve had many words come back to haunt me. No image in any horror movie has ever been as frightening as the lingering ring of a harsh word from my own lips.
Still, there’s a difference between a slip of the tongue and a pattern of disrespectful behavior. Unfortunately, our nation has accepted this kind of behavior as not just acceptable, but the norm. It’s such a rare thing for a young person to say “yes sir” and yes ma’am” that it’s noticeable when one actually says it.
Kids talk back to their parents without shame or fear. Teachers walk a fine line in terms of discipline because they know they do not have the backing of parents anymore. Rather than enforcing a child’s good behavior in classrooms, today’s parents too often enable bad behavior by threatening lawsuits when a teacher dares to hinder their child’s “personal rights” and “freedom of expression.”
Our society has and continues to make excuses for ugly behavior. Serena Williams is blasted on the news (and by me), but are her actions any different than the outbursts of many of her male counterparts? John McEnroe behaved much worse for many years and only received slaps on the wrists. Other athletes have been rewarded with huge paydays despite outrageous and sometimes illegal actions. These are the role models our kids see, day in and day out.
I think about the kids I saw on television when I was growing up. Today, it’s easy to see Wally and Beaver Cleaver, the Brady kids and Opie Taylor as innocent and unrealistic. They may have lived in a homogenized world, but as we watched them then, we couldn’t help but imitate their behavior somewhat. Respect for others, learning lessons from mistakes, being polite…these were not bad lessons to learn.
Recently I was in the room while my youngest was watching an episode of the Disney Channel show Hannah Montana (which seems to be running 24/7 on at least one television of our house). I caught enough of the plot to realize that Hannah had done something wrong and didn’t want her Dad to find out. Through the help of friends and some overly elaborate scheming; she plotted to keep her father in the dark and herself out of trouble.
I wasn’t paying close attention to the show, but I realized as the credits began to roll at the end of the episode that something had been missing from the climax. Unlike every family show I had watched as a kid, this teenage character got away with it. There was no “wise father” chat when he explained that he knew what she had been up to the entire time. No discussion of punishment. No hug, apology and promise to “never do it again.”
Yes…Hannah Montana…idol to countless millions of teenage and pre-teen girls…had escaped the hand of justice, proving that a saucy attitude and a belief in her own entitlement would win out. For those young people watching, and there are a lot, that’s a lesson they like to hear: sarcasm and deceiving your parents is okay if you don’t get caught.
To be fair, this does not happen on every episode of the Hannah Montana show. I’ve seen other episodes where Hannah does get caught and receives a fatherly talk. Still, I have to wonder which episode made the greater impression on young minds.
I’m not sure how I got from Joe Wilson’s outburst to a discussion of Hannah Montana. I’m kind of howling at the moon a bit, I guess, which I have a tendency to do. (It’s my party, so I can bay if I want to). But I have to wonder if we’re devolving somewhat as a nation. We’re losing our civility; we’re losing our interest in being honest, polite and respectful. More than anything, I’m afraid we are losing our way.
Monday, September 14, 2009
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Socially Acceptable
In the same way many of us are scared of snakes and bats and spiders, most Americans are terrified of certain words. These words usually cause an immediate response, such as a higher pulse rate, narrowing of the eyes, and possibly a pronounced shiver down the spine. The “IRS” or “Internal Revenue Service” has a negative connotation (unless they are sending us a refund check), and most of us live in some fear that one day they will knock on our door to perform another scary word: audit. We fear hearing words like “lay-off,” “reduction in force,” “cancer,” “affair,” and “infection.” We don’t like bad things to happen, especially to us. That’s human nature.
Other words have become negative, because of who we are, and what our culture has told us. No red-blooded American in the last century has been keen on the word “communism.” After the “red scare” of the 1950’s, and the images and memories of kids crawling under their desks during “bomb drills,” the words “communism” and “communist” have represented our enemy. Walls were built to keep them from us and us from them. Neither side wanted to be tainted with the confused, evil ideology of the other.
Toward the end of the last century and especially at the beginning of this one, the impact of words “terrorist” and “terrorism” surged to an entirely new level. Words like “profiling” and “water-boarding” became a part of our vocabulary. We developed a color coded threat system to alert us to assumed levels of danger at any given time. We bought massive amounts of duct tape.
Considering that we call our nation “the home of the brave,” we have no trouble finding things to fear.
Words are powerful. They illicit vivid images and feelings in those that hear and read them. They can be used for a great deal of good or cause a great deal of damage. We’ve all had words that come into our heads that we know we shouldn’t say, but can’t stop our mouths from uttering them. I have said things to people I love that I regret…words that can be apologized for but never forgotten. Once the word is said, it can’t be unheard.
One of the words I have heard repeatedly in the news for the last year is “socialism.” It’s one of those scary words that we, as Americans, believe threatens our way of life. Considering the economic crisis we’ve fallen under in the last 18 months, I can’t help but question how good “capitalism” has been for our way of life either, but that’s beside the point.
Allow me to quote the genius of Ferris Bueller, “Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself.”
So, let me be perfectly clear…I am not condoning Socialism. I am a strong believer in smaller government, less control and less spending. Giving more power to a system that is already bloated, wasteful and corrupt is not an intelligent option.
My problem has been the use of the word “socialism” as a scare tactic in the discussion over Health Care Reform. When did concern for those less fortunate become a bad thing? When did trying to help those in need become synonymous with “evil.”
Most Americans agree that there is a serious problem with our Heath Care system. Those who have good jobs with health insurance are seeing higher premiums and reduced benefits. Those without good jobs or no jobs at all cannot afford any insurance. People are being forced into bankruptcy and losing their homes over sky-rocketing medical bills and insurance red-tape that will not pay due to “pre-existing conditions” and exempt services.
There are many sides to the health care debate, and they are all slippery. Should we require everyone to get insurance? How will those who cannot afford it pay the premiums? Do you enforce the requirement by instituting fines? (That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me…how can you fine someone who can’t afford to buy insurance?)
Others say that if a healthy twenty-five year old doesn’t want to pay for insurance, then they shouldn’t have to…even if they have a good job and can afford it. Well, that doesn’t make sense either. That is why it’s called “insurance.” You don’t need it when you are healthy…it’s there for you when and if you get sick. If that logic worked for everything then I will cancel my auto insurance and wait to get it after I get in an accident.
Of course, the other big concern is how much health care reform will cost and how will we pay for it. I really have no idea how much it will cost, but I’m guessing A LOT and like everything else our government does, we will pay for it with our taxes.
What isn’t being discussed is the fact that we are paying for a lot of these expenses already. Patients without any health care insurance cannot be refused treatment if they show up at a hospital with a life threatening illness. This kind of treatment is either paid for by our government (our tax-dollars) or absorbed by the hospital as a loss and recovered through increased fees on those who can pay (through our higher insurance premiums).
This is potentially a no-win situation. If our government rushes through a comprehensive Health Care Reform Act, then it will no doubt find a way to screw it up. Logic seems to be removed from all elected officials of both parties once they take office, and doing the right thing somehow means compromising to the point of ineffectiveness. Spending a lot of money on something that won’t fix the problem is simply stupid. Our government has proven that many times before, but has yet to learn the lesson.
Considering the fact that we have needed Health Care Reform for decades and nothing has been done, it might be prudent to step back and take it slower. Baby steps will still advance the cause and might not cause the stumbles and injuries that a gallop from the gate on wobbly legs would almost certainly cause. Let someone besides politicians, lobbyists and plan providers have a go at devising a solution. There are some very smart people in this world, ask their opinion.
Although I’m suggesting that we slow down, I pray that we do not stop the effort. Fear of failure, or of words that do not accurately describe the situation, should not hinder us from trying to find a solution. We do have a problem. There are people in need. Do we sit back and say “I have insurance, so why should I care about the 46 million Americans who do not?” Is that who we are? Does that make us better than the “socialists” that we hate so much?
I have a friend who cannot afford health insurance. Once a year she stands in line for hours at the Remote Area Medical Clinic Free weekend, doing what she can to stay healthy and take care of herself within a very limited household budget. Thanks to the wonderful RAM clinic volunteers she gets some of the help she needs, but not the peace of mind she deserves and the comfort of knowing that if she gets sick between those annual visits she will receive the treatment needed.
Some will say that people will abuse the system. It’s happened with Medicaid, Welfare and Food Stamps and it will happen again with whatever system is put in place for Healthcare. There are those who will take advantage, but it won’t be everyone, and it won’t even be the majority. There are good people out there who desperately need the help of their fellow Americans. They don’t want a “hand-out” just a "helping hand.” What good are we if we turn our back on that?
Other words have become negative, because of who we are, and what our culture has told us. No red-blooded American in the last century has been keen on the word “communism.” After the “red scare” of the 1950’s, and the images and memories of kids crawling under their desks during “bomb drills,” the words “communism” and “communist” have represented our enemy. Walls were built to keep them from us and us from them. Neither side wanted to be tainted with the confused, evil ideology of the other.
Toward the end of the last century and especially at the beginning of this one, the impact of words “terrorist” and “terrorism” surged to an entirely new level. Words like “profiling” and “water-boarding” became a part of our vocabulary. We developed a color coded threat system to alert us to assumed levels of danger at any given time. We bought massive amounts of duct tape.
Considering that we call our nation “the home of the brave,” we have no trouble finding things to fear.
Words are powerful. They illicit vivid images and feelings in those that hear and read them. They can be used for a great deal of good or cause a great deal of damage. We’ve all had words that come into our heads that we know we shouldn’t say, but can’t stop our mouths from uttering them. I have said things to people I love that I regret…words that can be apologized for but never forgotten. Once the word is said, it can’t be unheard.
One of the words I have heard repeatedly in the news for the last year is “socialism.” It’s one of those scary words that we, as Americans, believe threatens our way of life. Considering the economic crisis we’ve fallen under in the last 18 months, I can’t help but question how good “capitalism” has been for our way of life either, but that’s beside the point.
Allow me to quote the genius of Ferris Bueller, “Not that I condone fascism, or any -ism for that matter. -Ism's in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an -ism, he should believe in himself.”
So, let me be perfectly clear…I am not condoning Socialism. I am a strong believer in smaller government, less control and less spending. Giving more power to a system that is already bloated, wasteful and corrupt is not an intelligent option.
My problem has been the use of the word “socialism” as a scare tactic in the discussion over Health Care Reform. When did concern for those less fortunate become a bad thing? When did trying to help those in need become synonymous with “evil.”
Most Americans agree that there is a serious problem with our Heath Care system. Those who have good jobs with health insurance are seeing higher premiums and reduced benefits. Those without good jobs or no jobs at all cannot afford any insurance. People are being forced into bankruptcy and losing their homes over sky-rocketing medical bills and insurance red-tape that will not pay due to “pre-existing conditions” and exempt services.
There are many sides to the health care debate, and they are all slippery. Should we require everyone to get insurance? How will those who cannot afford it pay the premiums? Do you enforce the requirement by instituting fines? (That doesn’t make a lot of sense to me…how can you fine someone who can’t afford to buy insurance?)
Others say that if a healthy twenty-five year old doesn’t want to pay for insurance, then they shouldn’t have to…even if they have a good job and can afford it. Well, that doesn’t make sense either. That is why it’s called “insurance.” You don’t need it when you are healthy…it’s there for you when and if you get sick. If that logic worked for everything then I will cancel my auto insurance and wait to get it after I get in an accident.
Of course, the other big concern is how much health care reform will cost and how will we pay for it. I really have no idea how much it will cost, but I’m guessing A LOT and like everything else our government does, we will pay for it with our taxes.
What isn’t being discussed is the fact that we are paying for a lot of these expenses already. Patients without any health care insurance cannot be refused treatment if they show up at a hospital with a life threatening illness. This kind of treatment is either paid for by our government (our tax-dollars) or absorbed by the hospital as a loss and recovered through increased fees on those who can pay (through our higher insurance premiums).
This is potentially a no-win situation. If our government rushes through a comprehensive Health Care Reform Act, then it will no doubt find a way to screw it up. Logic seems to be removed from all elected officials of both parties once they take office, and doing the right thing somehow means compromising to the point of ineffectiveness. Spending a lot of money on something that won’t fix the problem is simply stupid. Our government has proven that many times before, but has yet to learn the lesson.
Considering the fact that we have needed Health Care Reform for decades and nothing has been done, it might be prudent to step back and take it slower. Baby steps will still advance the cause and might not cause the stumbles and injuries that a gallop from the gate on wobbly legs would almost certainly cause. Let someone besides politicians, lobbyists and plan providers have a go at devising a solution. There are some very smart people in this world, ask their opinion.
Although I’m suggesting that we slow down, I pray that we do not stop the effort. Fear of failure, or of words that do not accurately describe the situation, should not hinder us from trying to find a solution. We do have a problem. There are people in need. Do we sit back and say “I have insurance, so why should I care about the 46 million Americans who do not?” Is that who we are? Does that make us better than the “socialists” that we hate so much?
I have a friend who cannot afford health insurance. Once a year she stands in line for hours at the Remote Area Medical Clinic Free weekend, doing what she can to stay healthy and take care of herself within a very limited household budget. Thanks to the wonderful RAM clinic volunteers she gets some of the help she needs, but not the peace of mind she deserves and the comfort of knowing that if she gets sick between those annual visits she will receive the treatment needed.
Some will say that people will abuse the system. It’s happened with Medicaid, Welfare and Food Stamps and it will happen again with whatever system is put in place for Healthcare. There are those who will take advantage, but it won’t be everyone, and it won’t even be the majority. There are good people out there who desperately need the help of their fellow Americans. They don’t want a “hand-out” just a "helping hand.” What good are we if we turn our back on that?
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Deep Fried
I was born, raised, lightly breaded and deep fried in the South. My momma cooked with a cast iron skillet on our old gas stove and could set out a platter of Fried Chicken that would make Colonel Sanders weep. We ate vegetables fresh from our garden; green onions, green beans, tomatoes, bibb lettuce (served with sizzling bacon grease dressing), potatoes, kale, collard greens, corn and peas. We’d have fried okra, stewed okra and okra with tomatoes…all of which I ate even though I would have told you that I didn’t like okra.
We ate from our garden because money was tight and our sweat and labor on evenings and weekends was cheaper than the cost of canned goods in the grocery. Besides that, it tasted better.
It was country food, although to us it was just food. We didn’t go to restaurants because we couldn’t afford it and we didn’t need to. Mom cooked better than any chef. That’s what I thought then, when I had nothing to compare her cooking to, and that’s what I’m sure of now, after eating at some mighty fine establishments all over the country.
Saturday lunch was almost always bologna. Back then we didn’t buy it in peel and open pre-sliced packages. Dad bought it in a two or three pound roll, wrapped in red plastic. We’d cut off a thick piece; put it on some white bread with a slice of tomato and some mustard. I was a happy kid. Roll your eyes if you want, but in the days before doctors were on the news every morning telling parents about the dangers of childhood obesity and scientists blamed everything for cancer, we could eat processed food and enjoy it.
Tonight I was driving through town and I passed our local Hardee’s fast food outlet. Outside, standing next to the sign, were two men…dressed more for a nice sit down restaurant than a burger and red burrito. One of them had his cell phone out taking a picture of the sign.
Kind of weird, I thought…wondering why anyone would take a photo of a Hardee’s sign…but then I saw it. The changeable reader board beneath the big corporate logo had the words that could only be found or appreciated in the south:
Fried Bologna Biscuit $1.39
Have you ever been embarrassed by something that has absolutely nothing to do with you?
Understanding the constant flow of business travelers that stay at the hotel across the street from the Hardee’s, I quickly guessed what was happening. Two men from up North, or somewhere more “civilized” than here, had found themselves trapped in East Tennessee for the night. Apparently shocked that they didn’t find goats and chickens roaming the streets or barefoot bumpkins playing banjo on the front porches, they documented their visit by taking a picture of the Hardee’s sign promoting a pure southern delicacy.
Now, I admit that when I first saw the sign a week or so ago, I cringed a bit. Much like their previous “pork chop/gravy biscuit,” this just seemed to cross the line from general fast food unhealthiness into “we have paramedics standing by.” I won’t be buying one, and I won’t let my kids either. Unlike my parents, I have been watching the Today show.
Still, I won’t suddenly turn up my nose at the memory of hot, fried bologna sandwiches from my youth. Covered in a gooey, melted slice of Velveeta cheese, it was like steak for poor people. Mom called it “comfort food,” which along with soupy macaroni and cheese and fried potatoes was a staple of our diet. It was cheap food that tasted good, and I wouldn’t trade those memories for all the Lobster dinners in the world. I doubt that those guys taking the photo, or their uppity friends who they will surely share it with, ever had it so good.
We ate from our garden because money was tight and our sweat and labor on evenings and weekends was cheaper than the cost of canned goods in the grocery. Besides that, it tasted better.
It was country food, although to us it was just food. We didn’t go to restaurants because we couldn’t afford it and we didn’t need to. Mom cooked better than any chef. That’s what I thought then, when I had nothing to compare her cooking to, and that’s what I’m sure of now, after eating at some mighty fine establishments all over the country.
Saturday lunch was almost always bologna. Back then we didn’t buy it in peel and open pre-sliced packages. Dad bought it in a two or three pound roll, wrapped in red plastic. We’d cut off a thick piece; put it on some white bread with a slice of tomato and some mustard. I was a happy kid. Roll your eyes if you want, but in the days before doctors were on the news every morning telling parents about the dangers of childhood obesity and scientists blamed everything for cancer, we could eat processed food and enjoy it.
Tonight I was driving through town and I passed our local Hardee’s fast food outlet. Outside, standing next to the sign, were two men…dressed more for a nice sit down restaurant than a burger and red burrito. One of them had his cell phone out taking a picture of the sign.
Kind of weird, I thought…wondering why anyone would take a photo of a Hardee’s sign…but then I saw it. The changeable reader board beneath the big corporate logo had the words that could only be found or appreciated in the south:
Fried Bologna Biscuit $1.39
Have you ever been embarrassed by something that has absolutely nothing to do with you?
Understanding the constant flow of business travelers that stay at the hotel across the street from the Hardee’s, I quickly guessed what was happening. Two men from up North, or somewhere more “civilized” than here, had found themselves trapped in East Tennessee for the night. Apparently shocked that they didn’t find goats and chickens roaming the streets or barefoot bumpkins playing banjo on the front porches, they documented their visit by taking a picture of the Hardee’s sign promoting a pure southern delicacy.
Now, I admit that when I first saw the sign a week or so ago, I cringed a bit. Much like their previous “pork chop/gravy biscuit,” this just seemed to cross the line from general fast food unhealthiness into “we have paramedics standing by.” I won’t be buying one, and I won’t let my kids either. Unlike my parents, I have been watching the Today show.
Still, I won’t suddenly turn up my nose at the memory of hot, fried bologna sandwiches from my youth. Covered in a gooey, melted slice of Velveeta cheese, it was like steak for poor people. Mom called it “comfort food,” which along with soupy macaroni and cheese and fried potatoes was a staple of our diet. It was cheap food that tasted good, and I wouldn’t trade those memories for all the Lobster dinners in the world. I doubt that those guys taking the photo, or their uppity friends who they will surely share it with, ever had it so good.
Wednesday, September 2, 2009
With a Rebel Yell
It seems like I gripe all the time, considering my blogging about pet peeves and what’s wrong with this or that, but I don’t think of myself as a negative person. My family gets frustrated with me because I call a lot of people “idiots,” particularly while driving, and that may well be true, but I’m not prone to road rage or anything like that, I just don’t like sharing the road with people who do not follow the rules.
I’m big on rules, which is not a sexy attribute. It’s boring to follow the rules. Safe is not very attractive.
I’ll never forget one date when I was in college. This girl and I had gone out three or four times at this point, nothing serious, but I thought the appropriate thing to do was buy her a gift; a token of my feelings for her. At the end of the date, I gave her the gift (a small music box, I think, which may have had something to do with her response). She smiled and thanked me, then said, “You’re a nice guy, Bruce…but I’m not looking for a nice guy.”
That could have been a life changing moment. I could have gone out the next day and traded in my Chevy Caprice Classic for a Camero, and my windbreaker for something in black leather. I could have, but that still would not have changed who I am. I would have still been a nerd driving a fast car that he never pushed more than 8 miles over the speed limit. I could have worn the clothes and driven the car, but I would never have been the dangerous type.
In every generation, the more stylish and hip characters are always “rebels.” They don’t need anything or anybody, they are just altogether cool. James Dean could have stood in the maternity ward of a hospital; smoking and spilling ash over twelve crying newborns and women would have still swooned and said, “He’s so amazing.” Guys would just shake their heads and say, “I wanna be like him.”
The romantic allure of the rebel makes a lot of people want to be one. They believe that simply breaking the rules makes them a “rebel.” They have read just enough of the constitution to believe they have the “right” do anything they want, just as our founding fathers must have intended. It is a "Free Country"after all.
Of course, there is definitely a time and place for rebels. We need them or there would never be change. Without rebels, we’d still be under British rule, so I’m not downplaying the need for rebels. I just think they need a “cause.”
I believe a lot of people who think they are rebels are actually just idiots. They believe that normal rules do not apply to them, which is not what it means to be a rebel. Rebellion is only justified when there is a sense of unfairness occurring.
Here are some of my personal classifications on whether a person’s actions are worthy to be classified as a “rebel:”
• Overturning a brutal dictatorship…rebel.
• Breaking in line at the movie theater…idiot.
• Marching for peace during a questionable war…rebel.
• Parking in a handicapped space even though you’re healthy…idiot.
• Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus…rebel.
• Wearing your pants so low that your underwear is showing…idiot.
True rebels are those who use their words or actions to point out a fault in authority or in established norms. Idiots do what they want because they are selfish and don’t care how their actions affect others. I have a low tolerance for idiots.
Weekday mornings when I am in town, I take two of my daughters to school. At the middle school where my youngest attends, there is a large, one way loop that is always crowded with minivans and hurried parents. Most of us behave. We follow the clearly marked signs to stay in the right hand lane for dropping off and picking up. The lines may get long, but if everyone follows the rules, it moves pretty quickly.
But not everyone follows the rules. Multiple signs state that the left lane is for through traffic only. Teachers use it to get around the line to their parking area. It’s fairly clear that it is not to be used for dropping off. Still, that empty lane is just too enticing for some folks. They cut into that lane and speed past the rest of us, dutifully waiting our turn. Once they get to the front of the line, they have two choices. They can either drop their kid in the middle of the road to play Frogger in real traffic while carrying a thirty pound backpack and a beat up violin case (and there are more signs on the left hand side of the road forbidding that), or they can attempt to cut in line. Either choice slows the flow of traffic and causes delays for everyone.
It’s a rare morning as I wait in that line that I don’t find it necessary to mutter the word “idiot.” Someone, usually several, will invariably break the rules, apparently because they are in a much bigger hurry and are much more important than the rest of us. I comment on this behavior to my kids because I want them to learn that it is wrong. I feel that it is my responsibility as a parent to teach.
My wife believes I am only teaching them to call people “idiots,” but I believe that she has countered that well by rolling her eyes and sighing heavily whenever I say it in her presence. I hope I have taught them that you should stand up for what you believe in, but not to push others around just to get your way. Following the rules is really about having respect for others. It’s about treating others as you would have them treat you. And that’s a pretty good rule to live by.
I’m big on rules, which is not a sexy attribute. It’s boring to follow the rules. Safe is not very attractive.
I’ll never forget one date when I was in college. This girl and I had gone out three or four times at this point, nothing serious, but I thought the appropriate thing to do was buy her a gift; a token of my feelings for her. At the end of the date, I gave her the gift (a small music box, I think, which may have had something to do with her response). She smiled and thanked me, then said, “You’re a nice guy, Bruce…but I’m not looking for a nice guy.”
That could have been a life changing moment. I could have gone out the next day and traded in my Chevy Caprice Classic for a Camero, and my windbreaker for something in black leather. I could have, but that still would not have changed who I am. I would have still been a nerd driving a fast car that he never pushed more than 8 miles over the speed limit. I could have worn the clothes and driven the car, but I would never have been the dangerous type.
In every generation, the more stylish and hip characters are always “rebels.” They don’t need anything or anybody, they are just altogether cool. James Dean could have stood in the maternity ward of a hospital; smoking and spilling ash over twelve crying newborns and women would have still swooned and said, “He’s so amazing.” Guys would just shake their heads and say, “I wanna be like him.”
The romantic allure of the rebel makes a lot of people want to be one. They believe that simply breaking the rules makes them a “rebel.” They have read just enough of the constitution to believe they have the “right” do anything they want, just as our founding fathers must have intended. It is a "Free Country"after all.
Of course, there is definitely a time and place for rebels. We need them or there would never be change. Without rebels, we’d still be under British rule, so I’m not downplaying the need for rebels. I just think they need a “cause.”
I believe a lot of people who think they are rebels are actually just idiots. They believe that normal rules do not apply to them, which is not what it means to be a rebel. Rebellion is only justified when there is a sense of unfairness occurring.
Here are some of my personal classifications on whether a person’s actions are worthy to be classified as a “rebel:”
• Overturning a brutal dictatorship…rebel.
• Breaking in line at the movie theater…idiot.
• Marching for peace during a questionable war…rebel.
• Parking in a handicapped space even though you’re healthy…idiot.
• Rosa Parks refusing to sit in the back of the bus…rebel.
• Wearing your pants so low that your underwear is showing…idiot.
True rebels are those who use their words or actions to point out a fault in authority or in established norms. Idiots do what they want because they are selfish and don’t care how their actions affect others. I have a low tolerance for idiots.
Weekday mornings when I am in town, I take two of my daughters to school. At the middle school where my youngest attends, there is a large, one way loop that is always crowded with minivans and hurried parents. Most of us behave. We follow the clearly marked signs to stay in the right hand lane for dropping off and picking up. The lines may get long, but if everyone follows the rules, it moves pretty quickly.
But not everyone follows the rules. Multiple signs state that the left lane is for through traffic only. Teachers use it to get around the line to their parking area. It’s fairly clear that it is not to be used for dropping off. Still, that empty lane is just too enticing for some folks. They cut into that lane and speed past the rest of us, dutifully waiting our turn. Once they get to the front of the line, they have two choices. They can either drop their kid in the middle of the road to play Frogger in real traffic while carrying a thirty pound backpack and a beat up violin case (and there are more signs on the left hand side of the road forbidding that), or they can attempt to cut in line. Either choice slows the flow of traffic and causes delays for everyone.
It’s a rare morning as I wait in that line that I don’t find it necessary to mutter the word “idiot.” Someone, usually several, will invariably break the rules, apparently because they are in a much bigger hurry and are much more important than the rest of us. I comment on this behavior to my kids because I want them to learn that it is wrong. I feel that it is my responsibility as a parent to teach.
My wife believes I am only teaching them to call people “idiots,” but I believe that she has countered that well by rolling her eyes and sighing heavily whenever I say it in her presence. I hope I have taught them that you should stand up for what you believe in, but not to push others around just to get your way. Following the rules is really about having respect for others. It’s about treating others as you would have them treat you. And that’s a pretty good rule to live by.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Justice (part three)
“…that we alone are responsible for our actions and no one else.”
As a society we do not like to think about that because then we would have no one to blame for our own mistakes. Listen to almost any fight or argument between my kids, and at some point the words “she started it” or “she hit me first” will be uttered. It’s the same in bedrooms, boardrooms and on the street. Even if we admit some blame, there’s a caveat.
“Yes, I was wrong and I cheated on my wife…but she didn’t understand me.”
“Yes, I lied about the value of our stock…but that’s the way our business works.”
“Yes, I had a few drinks at dinner…but that car pulled out in front of me!”
Our laws have been buffered and neutered almost to a point of being totally ineffective because of our own innate, selfish desire to protect ourselves. Drunken driving laws are basically slaps on the wrists because those making the laws fear that horrible possibility that they too might someday find themselves standing at the scene of an accident they caused. It’s easier to make the laws more lenient than to consider the personal sacrifice of giving up the occasional social drinking opportunity.
Seven years ago one of my dearest friends was killed by a drunk driver. Leaving behind a wife and two young daughters, this kind, gentle man had his life stolen by a woman who had been partying with friends at a local lake that Sunday afternoon. Like so many of us who innocently leave our homes each day with the expectation to return that evening, he had no idea what was waiting for him on that fateful stretch of road.
The woman was charged with “vehicular manslaughter,” and after all the deals and hearings, she served a minimal amount of time in jail. I have no idea what her life was like before or what it’s been like since she killed my friend. She might wake up every morning with the full weight of what she did on her mind. She might have turned away from drinking completely, promising to never again cause such pain. I do not know what’s in her heart.
For her sake, and for what might lie ahead of her, I hope she is truly sorry and has changed, but truth be told, outside of the spiritual battle for her eternal soul, there’s a mark upon her in this life that cannot be removed. Through her deliberate actions, she took a life. No amount of prayer, conversion and tearful pleas for forgiveness can change that.
Our society has taken on a new mantra, one that has been used jokingly in many situations, but has somehow, quite dangerously, been accepted as an excuse for all inappropriate behavior: Act now and apologize later.
There is no excuse for drinking and driving. If you go to a bar without a plan to get home, you know it’s wrong. If you go to dinner and have a few glasses of wine or a margarita, don’t assume you are safe to drive just because you’ve made it home safely a hundred times before. It only takes once. If you do not understand the concept of “designated driver,” you are too stupid to be behind the wheel in the first place. It’s a pretty simple concept. Apologizing later and saying you didn’t think it would happen to you does not reduce your guilt.
Our weak stance on crime and punishment makes our nation an enabler of continued bad behavior. Without serious consequences, those who are easily tempted to break the law find the risk easier to accept. They are gamblers, willing to bet the higher stakes as long as the house gives them good odds. Even if they lose, they know they will generally walk away.
But this is not a roulette table, or a poker game...and the stakes are higher than a stack of plastic chips. While judges and attorneys construct plea bargains, the concern for the next victim is rarely considered. Deals are made to avoid the bother of a trial, turning what could have been a life sentence into a chance for parole in seven years.
There will be a great deal of questions into how Phillip Garrido was released so early from his 50 year sentence. Many will ask just how a convicted sex offender was able to hold a young girl in his home for so long, and even raise two more children in that same home without the authorities noticing. Already, there has been an apology from a local sheriff over a lack of follow up on a three year old 911 call alerting them to his strange behavior and the presence of children on his property. Apparently, the responding officers did not search his back yard. That simple action could have ended this ordeal right then.
I think about the last three years of my life. Three Christmas’s, three birthdays…my time with family and friends. What is that time worth? For me it is priceless. What was it worth to Jacee Dugard?
Jacee Dugard was kidnapped a few months after the birth of my oldest daughter. I can’t help but think about the lifetime of events that seem to have happened since then in our lives. My daughter starts college this week, which is still hard for me to believe, but also illustrates just how much that young kidnap victim has lost. Her family missed her teenage years. She did not have a “sweet sixteen” party (she was a mother at age fourteen, thanks to Garrido’s continued rapes). She did not go to her prom. She did not experience the innocence of young love or her first kiss with a boy she was sure she loved. All these things were stolen from her.
The more you hear of this story, the more infuriating it is. Garrido is now being investigated for a string of murders in his area. Finally, his property and other areas he had access to are being searched. After his arrest last week, the Nevada Division of Parole and Probation (responsible for his early release in 1988 from the 50 year sentence) sent a detainer notice to California, asking for a hold on Garrido for violation of his parole in Nevada. The incompetence would almost be comical if it were not so horribly destructive to the lives of the innocent.
Although I’m sure heads will roll for the miserable handling of the Garrido case, as well they should, we all hold some blame for the way this case and many others are allowed to be handled. We have allowed our laws and lawmakers to turn against us. We do not ask “why?” We do not demand answers. Unfortunately, most of our current “activists” involved in legal reform became that through tragedy. Do we have to wait for death to touch someone we love to see the problem?
As a society we do not like to think about that because then we would have no one to blame for our own mistakes. Listen to almost any fight or argument between my kids, and at some point the words “she started it” or “she hit me first” will be uttered. It’s the same in bedrooms, boardrooms and on the street. Even if we admit some blame, there’s a caveat.
“Yes, I was wrong and I cheated on my wife…but she didn’t understand me.”
“Yes, I lied about the value of our stock…but that’s the way our business works.”
“Yes, I had a few drinks at dinner…but that car pulled out in front of me!”
Our laws have been buffered and neutered almost to a point of being totally ineffective because of our own innate, selfish desire to protect ourselves. Drunken driving laws are basically slaps on the wrists because those making the laws fear that horrible possibility that they too might someday find themselves standing at the scene of an accident they caused. It’s easier to make the laws more lenient than to consider the personal sacrifice of giving up the occasional social drinking opportunity.
Seven years ago one of my dearest friends was killed by a drunk driver. Leaving behind a wife and two young daughters, this kind, gentle man had his life stolen by a woman who had been partying with friends at a local lake that Sunday afternoon. Like so many of us who innocently leave our homes each day with the expectation to return that evening, he had no idea what was waiting for him on that fateful stretch of road.
The woman was charged with “vehicular manslaughter,” and after all the deals and hearings, she served a minimal amount of time in jail. I have no idea what her life was like before or what it’s been like since she killed my friend. She might wake up every morning with the full weight of what she did on her mind. She might have turned away from drinking completely, promising to never again cause such pain. I do not know what’s in her heart.
For her sake, and for what might lie ahead of her, I hope she is truly sorry and has changed, but truth be told, outside of the spiritual battle for her eternal soul, there’s a mark upon her in this life that cannot be removed. Through her deliberate actions, she took a life. No amount of prayer, conversion and tearful pleas for forgiveness can change that.
Our society has taken on a new mantra, one that has been used jokingly in many situations, but has somehow, quite dangerously, been accepted as an excuse for all inappropriate behavior: Act now and apologize later.
There is no excuse for drinking and driving. If you go to a bar without a plan to get home, you know it’s wrong. If you go to dinner and have a few glasses of wine or a margarita, don’t assume you are safe to drive just because you’ve made it home safely a hundred times before. It only takes once. If you do not understand the concept of “designated driver,” you are too stupid to be behind the wheel in the first place. It’s a pretty simple concept. Apologizing later and saying you didn’t think it would happen to you does not reduce your guilt.
Our weak stance on crime and punishment makes our nation an enabler of continued bad behavior. Without serious consequences, those who are easily tempted to break the law find the risk easier to accept. They are gamblers, willing to bet the higher stakes as long as the house gives them good odds. Even if they lose, they know they will generally walk away.
But this is not a roulette table, or a poker game...and the stakes are higher than a stack of plastic chips. While judges and attorneys construct plea bargains, the concern for the next victim is rarely considered. Deals are made to avoid the bother of a trial, turning what could have been a life sentence into a chance for parole in seven years.
There will be a great deal of questions into how Phillip Garrido was released so early from his 50 year sentence. Many will ask just how a convicted sex offender was able to hold a young girl in his home for so long, and even raise two more children in that same home without the authorities noticing. Already, there has been an apology from a local sheriff over a lack of follow up on a three year old 911 call alerting them to his strange behavior and the presence of children on his property. Apparently, the responding officers did not search his back yard. That simple action could have ended this ordeal right then.
I think about the last three years of my life. Three Christmas’s, three birthdays…my time with family and friends. What is that time worth? For me it is priceless. What was it worth to Jacee Dugard?
Jacee Dugard was kidnapped a few months after the birth of my oldest daughter. I can’t help but think about the lifetime of events that seem to have happened since then in our lives. My daughter starts college this week, which is still hard for me to believe, but also illustrates just how much that young kidnap victim has lost. Her family missed her teenage years. She did not have a “sweet sixteen” party (she was a mother at age fourteen, thanks to Garrido’s continued rapes). She did not go to her prom. She did not experience the innocence of young love or her first kiss with a boy she was sure she loved. All these things were stolen from her.
The more you hear of this story, the more infuriating it is. Garrido is now being investigated for a string of murders in his area. Finally, his property and other areas he had access to are being searched. After his arrest last week, the Nevada Division of Parole and Probation (responsible for his early release in 1988 from the 50 year sentence) sent a detainer notice to California, asking for a hold on Garrido for violation of his parole in Nevada. The incompetence would almost be comical if it were not so horribly destructive to the lives of the innocent.
Although I’m sure heads will roll for the miserable handling of the Garrido case, as well they should, we all hold some blame for the way this case and many others are allowed to be handled. We have allowed our laws and lawmakers to turn against us. We do not ask “why?” We do not demand answers. Unfortunately, most of our current “activists” involved in legal reform became that through tragedy. Do we have to wait for death to touch someone we love to see the problem?
Monday, August 31, 2009
Justice (part two)
Justice (part two)
I had not planned on writing about the Christian/Newsom murders. The story has been prominent in the Knoxville news for two and a half years, and it’s been hard for many people to hear the details and see the pain on the families faces. It’s been difficult for me as well, but I have not been able to look away.
I have watched interviews with the parents and seen the anger and frustration in Channon Christian’s fathers eyes. As a father of daughters, I can relate, and fortunately, I can only imagine what he is feeling. What any of them are feeling.
My intention was to swallow my thoughts on this subject. Partly for fear that my disgust and anger over the crime would be too raw, and partly because there’s been so much written and talked about on this subject locally that I wasn’t sure I had anything else to say.
At the end of this week, however, another story broke that got me thinking about what it means to be safe and to keep our families safe in America. After 18 years, the search for kidnapped Jaycee Dugard ended when she was found as a captive of Phillip Garrido, a convicted rapist who had taken her at age eleven and has since fathered two daughters by her.
Much like Channon Christian and Chris Newsom, young Jacee Dugard was doing nothing more than the mere act of existing when her path happened to cross the predator Garrido and his wife. Waiting at a school bus stop, like so many thousands of children do each day, she should have been safe. She should have had nothing more to worry about than how much homework her math teacher gave or if that cute boy she likes just might like her too.
Again, this is a crime in which more than one holds blame, and despite the fact that Garrido seemed to control his wife, she had opportunity and obligation to stop him from his deeds, yet did not. I can predict her excuse now, as she cries in court, that she was a victim too. She will no doubt say that she loved him and lived in fear of him. She will plead for mercy. My heart does not bleed for her.
More bothersome questions arise as more is learned about Garrido and his past. He was sentenced in 1977 to a 50 year prison sentence for the kidnap and rape of a casino worker (in the same town where Jacee Dugard lived), yet despite telling authorities that he could only enjoy sex if there was violence involved, he served only eleven years. Three years after his release, he kidnapped Jacee.
What excuses do we have as a society? What do we say to the now 29 year old Jacee Dugard as we try to explain what she has missed during her eighteen years of captivity? Do we simply say, “You know, with prison overcrowding, we can’t keep criminals in jail forever!” Or do we say, “according to the percentages, and the two hours of court appointed therapy he attended, we believed Mr. Garrido had been rehabilitated.”
The truth is, until it touches our own families, we don’t usually care. We might shake our heads when we watch the news, and say how awful it is when someone is raped or killed, but it’s really just too much effort to get involved with changing the system. We’ll get furious over taxes, because that affects our wallet and pocketbook. We might go to a town hall meeting or a tea party. We’ll scream and shake our fists because we just can’t believe someone would do something we don’t agree with. But when it comes to the safety and wellbeing of our nations children, we hold our tongue.
Churches and conservative groups across our nation stage protests and place little white crosses on their lawns to show their outrage at the rate of abortions, but oddly grow silent once those rescued fetuses are born, as if their responsibility to their life ended at birth. Concern and protection should not stop at the first breath.
Liberals are even worse, so concerned with the rights of the criminals that we have been forced to forfeit the most basic human right of safety. If there is even the slightest evidence of a clerical mistake on the behalf of the police, the ACLU will seek to overturn a conviction and release a proven murderer. These actions are always justified as a way of upholding the law, but what good is the law if justice is foresaken?
Our society has shown more concern for nearly extinct slug worms than it has for the safety of our children. Stronger laws are on our books for some forms of tax evasion and treason than there are for murder and rape. What is our logic? Why can we not get this right? It seems fairly straightforward to me: If you are convicted of rape, kidnap or murder, you lose your rights to play amongst the rest of us. If you are convicted of rape, kidnap or murder of a child, you lose the right to breath.
Somehow we have allowed our judicial system to twist and turn the law into a nearly incomprehensible maze of legal jargon. As I listened to the charges read by the judge in the Christian/Newsom trial, I wondered how the jury would ever understand what they were legally supposed to do. Obviously, they were confused as well, finding the defendant guilty of first degree murder but not imposing the maximum punishment.
Possibly there were too many loopholes, too many “if this, then that” options. Why have we found it necessary, as we continue to become more “civilized,” to feel the need to classify everything? If someone murders, then there has to be an excuse, some sad story of justification that explains how this poor soul made such a tragic mistake. It’s the parent’s fault, or drugs, or gangs…anything but the horrible truth that none of us like to face: that we alone are responsible for our actions and no one else.
(continued in part three)
I had not planned on writing about the Christian/Newsom murders. The story has been prominent in the Knoxville news for two and a half years, and it’s been hard for many people to hear the details and see the pain on the families faces. It’s been difficult for me as well, but I have not been able to look away.
I have watched interviews with the parents and seen the anger and frustration in Channon Christian’s fathers eyes. As a father of daughters, I can relate, and fortunately, I can only imagine what he is feeling. What any of them are feeling.
My intention was to swallow my thoughts on this subject. Partly for fear that my disgust and anger over the crime would be too raw, and partly because there’s been so much written and talked about on this subject locally that I wasn’t sure I had anything else to say.
At the end of this week, however, another story broke that got me thinking about what it means to be safe and to keep our families safe in America. After 18 years, the search for kidnapped Jaycee Dugard ended when she was found as a captive of Phillip Garrido, a convicted rapist who had taken her at age eleven and has since fathered two daughters by her.
Much like Channon Christian and Chris Newsom, young Jacee Dugard was doing nothing more than the mere act of existing when her path happened to cross the predator Garrido and his wife. Waiting at a school bus stop, like so many thousands of children do each day, she should have been safe. She should have had nothing more to worry about than how much homework her math teacher gave or if that cute boy she likes just might like her too.
Again, this is a crime in which more than one holds blame, and despite the fact that Garrido seemed to control his wife, she had opportunity and obligation to stop him from his deeds, yet did not. I can predict her excuse now, as she cries in court, that she was a victim too. She will no doubt say that she loved him and lived in fear of him. She will plead for mercy. My heart does not bleed for her.
More bothersome questions arise as more is learned about Garrido and his past. He was sentenced in 1977 to a 50 year prison sentence for the kidnap and rape of a casino worker (in the same town where Jacee Dugard lived), yet despite telling authorities that he could only enjoy sex if there was violence involved, he served only eleven years. Three years after his release, he kidnapped Jacee.
What excuses do we have as a society? What do we say to the now 29 year old Jacee Dugard as we try to explain what she has missed during her eighteen years of captivity? Do we simply say, “You know, with prison overcrowding, we can’t keep criminals in jail forever!” Or do we say, “according to the percentages, and the two hours of court appointed therapy he attended, we believed Mr. Garrido had been rehabilitated.”
The truth is, until it touches our own families, we don’t usually care. We might shake our heads when we watch the news, and say how awful it is when someone is raped or killed, but it’s really just too much effort to get involved with changing the system. We’ll get furious over taxes, because that affects our wallet and pocketbook. We might go to a town hall meeting or a tea party. We’ll scream and shake our fists because we just can’t believe someone would do something we don’t agree with. But when it comes to the safety and wellbeing of our nations children, we hold our tongue.
Churches and conservative groups across our nation stage protests and place little white crosses on their lawns to show their outrage at the rate of abortions, but oddly grow silent once those rescued fetuses are born, as if their responsibility to their life ended at birth. Concern and protection should not stop at the first breath.
Liberals are even worse, so concerned with the rights of the criminals that we have been forced to forfeit the most basic human right of safety. If there is even the slightest evidence of a clerical mistake on the behalf of the police, the ACLU will seek to overturn a conviction and release a proven murderer. These actions are always justified as a way of upholding the law, but what good is the law if justice is foresaken?
Our society has shown more concern for nearly extinct slug worms than it has for the safety of our children. Stronger laws are on our books for some forms of tax evasion and treason than there are for murder and rape. What is our logic? Why can we not get this right? It seems fairly straightforward to me: If you are convicted of rape, kidnap or murder, you lose your rights to play amongst the rest of us. If you are convicted of rape, kidnap or murder of a child, you lose the right to breath.
Somehow we have allowed our judicial system to twist and turn the law into a nearly incomprehensible maze of legal jargon. As I listened to the charges read by the judge in the Christian/Newsom trial, I wondered how the jury would ever understand what they were legally supposed to do. Obviously, they were confused as well, finding the defendant guilty of first degree murder but not imposing the maximum punishment.
Possibly there were too many loopholes, too many “if this, then that” options. Why have we found it necessary, as we continue to become more “civilized,” to feel the need to classify everything? If someone murders, then there has to be an excuse, some sad story of justification that explains how this poor soul made such a tragic mistake. It’s the parent’s fault, or drugs, or gangs…anything but the horrible truth that none of us like to face: that we alone are responsible for our actions and no one else.
(continued in part three)
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Justice (part one)
It’s been a dark week for our judicial system, with proof that justice is not just blind, but also deaf and dumb. Like a lot of people in the Knoxville area, I have closely followed the kidnapping and murder case of Channon Christian and Chris Newsom. A young couple who appeared to do nothing wrong except be at the wrong place at the wrong time, they were viciously tortured and murdered in January 2007 by a group of thugs whose sadism was so extreme that the details continue to shock and disturb today.
We’ve all heard stories of serial killers and lone psychos who do evil, deranged things, but it’s even more upsetting to consider that a group, even those bound by blood relation or friendship, could agree to participate in such hideous behavior. Not one of the five, apparently, stepped forward to help this young couple during this nightmarish weekend. There was no compassion for their pain or fear. No compassion for their shared humanity.
This week brought the conclusion of the first defendant’s trial. Although pleading guilty to some of the charges, including rape (which he later testified about and tried to justify), he plead “not guilty” to the more serious charge of murder, and claimed that he could not stop the actions of his brother and others who were truly at fault for the crime. Despite having the opportunity to release Channon Christian at one point early in the ordeal while he was alone with her, the defendant admitted to coercing a sex act from her instead, with the promise that he would try to get her set free. The promise was forgotten immediately and he stayed in the house with her throughout her continued torture, further rapes, and eventual death.
The jury found him guilty of First Degree Murder and Kidnapping, which are capital offenses and therefore eligible for the Death Penalty in Tennessee. While I can certainly appreciate the arguments for those who do not agree with the Death Penalty, I have always believed that the punishment should fit the crime. If there is absolute, inescapable evidence of murder or crime against humanity, then I believe the Death Penalty is a valid option.
*On a side note, and totally unrelated to any of this, are some observations I’ve had on how people think:
• Have you ever noticed that in general those who are “anti-death penalty” are generally “pro-choice” on the abortion issue?
• On the opposite side of that, those who are “pro-death penalty” are generally “anti-abortion.”
What I find most curious is that both sides justify their “anti” stance on the inherent “sanctity” of life. Now, this seems a little hypocritical to me, but I’m sure there are plenty of folks who would love to educate me on why their way is only correct way of thinking. There never seems to be a lack of folks willing to do that.
On Wednesday the Jury listened to family members of both the victims and the convicted beg for life and death. Photos of the defendant as a child were displayed as stories of his difficult life and lack of adult supervision were repeated through tears and pleas for compassion. All I could think of each time I heard a cousin implore the jury not to kill him was how many times he heard that from the mouths of his victims.
With logic I have yet to understand, the jury returned with a sentence of “Life without the possibility of Parole.” Do I find some comfort in the fact that he will never walk the streets again? Absolutely. I have a wife and three daughters, and their safety and protection is always on my mind. As the kids get older and venture out on their own, I worry about what person might be lurking around each corner. Any criminals we can get off the street and away from my family is always a good thing.
Still, what was the jury thinking? His guilt was undeniable. This same jury found him guilty of the charges, so how did they not sentence him to death? The decision came quickly, barely two hours into deliberations, which made me wonder if some members of the jury would have ever intended to deliver a penalty of execution. During the questioning of the jury pool, all of these members had agreed that they could deliver that sentence if necessary, yet despite what most legal observers of the trial deem as irrefutable proof of his guilt and culpability, they could not do it.
Our judicial system is built on the weakest possible framework: the swaying, brittle bones of the human whim. Despite the pounds of evidence, testimony and fact mounded upon one side of the scales of justice, the tiniest speck of personal introspection can tilt the balance. Is this based on “reasonable doubt” in the guilt or innocence of the defendant? I do not think so. I believe it is based on doubts in our own ability to deal with the tough decisions that must be made. Separating that “personal doubt” from the final, horribly difficult choice is where our system so often falls apart.
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