This is a brief recounting of how today began for my dog and myself at a little dog park just north of Oshkosh. It is just a little reminder, an acknowledgement of how all of our lives have changed in the last several years of mainly Republican domination. I posted it on my Face Book page earlier and decided it might be something worth sharing here.
I'm actually quite calm, considering. My blood pressure might be a little elevated, my breathing just a little shallow. But I'm not shaking; I'm not walking in circles talking to myself about how I plan to exact vengeance. So, on the whole, I would characterize my reaction to the statement at the time and since as actually quite calm.
"I have a f**kin' gun in the car and I ain't afraid tuh use it!"
So, this is where we are now. Only a few months after becoming one of the last states to adopt a concealed weapon carry law, I get to hear what will probably become the last words that many ill-advised citizens will utter or hear. And not in passing, overheard between two people at the end of a heated argument; no, directed at me without any other words having passed between myself and the speaker.
What was I doing that so aroused this brave, self-reliant citizen to threaten to take what can only be described as measures of last resort? Had I cut him off in a tense, dangerous traffic situation? Had I been somewhere that could only be judged by reasonable people to have been "the wrong place at the wrong time?" Had I exhibited reckless behavior that was obviously fueled by alcohol or drugs, therefore by my actions causing any sane person to evaluate the logistics of the situation and prepare to take evasive or protective action?
No. My crime, my provocation was very simple. I was walking toward the front gate of the dog park to take my dog home. That's it. Walking, leaving. And... as we were leaving, my dog snarled at another dog who was just arriving. He snarled. He didn't bite, he didn't attack, there was no overt show of animosity. The dogs were about the same size and weight and they bumped each other a couple of times and then dropped it. Like dogs do. Like dogs that have a different language and a different agenda than we have.
And who was this John Wayne black ops vigilante? Was he some young overly tattooed and overly testosterone revved punk? Was he an unusually garbed and flamboyantly displayed ethnic type bent on obtaining historic justice from the first "whitey" that stepped into his sights? Was he just a guy that had been the target of a gang or of thieves or maybe he had taken all he was going to take and was just ready to strike back at the world and stand his ground or protect his castle?
No. The guy that made the statement, the guy that was threatening to do serious if not permanent damage to either myself or to my dog, the guy who, at that moment, was as close to me as my laptop is now looked to be about 2 to 7 or 8 years older than me. His hair was whiter, his skin pastier, his gait slightly more hobbled than my own. And his eyes- his eyes were tiny, hate-filled, red-rimmed, lonely openings in his otherwise empty head. No, not empty. A head filled with too many images of newscasts and CSI bodies and movies about monsters in real or imagined life and danger and unfairness everywhere you turn...
So what is the lesson? What is the message? What can I, can we, take from this that will make the world a better place? Probably nothing. There is probably no all-encompassing logic that would quickly accumulate all the tiny bits of fact and spit out a simple answer. I guess there is only what I would have wanted to say if there had been no suggestion of a weapon being present.
"Mister, I'm just a guy that has been a pretty good citizen, too. A guy that has worked for a lot of years, a guy that had to fight for a while in a war that I couldn't believe in, a guy that did a job that required me to choke down my fears, a guy that tried to help raise a couple of good and decent and talented kids, a guy that wished his own talents had been greater, a guy that has paid my taxes every year since I was about sixteen. A guy that doesn't deserve to be threatened, or to have my friend threatened, just because you are afraid. A guy that doesn't deserve to die, or to have my friend killed, at the hands of a pathetic old guy that probably has no business being armed to begin with. I'm just a guy that will only be way too happy to avoid you, avoid your dog, leave you to your day, and hopefully never see you again as long as we both shall live."
That's all. There is really no need for anyone to die over a slightly unpleasant moment in our day.