A construction detour took me from my usual route today and I saw a part of town that I have never traveled before.The detour was caused by City crews working on new brick-paved sidewalks and enlarged, landscaped median strips.
I am embarrassed to admit that the minute I saw black bars on a store-front window, I checked to make sure my car doors were locked. There were lots of steel bars on lots of windows. Each building I passed was more run-down than the one next to it. Many business names looked handpainted and the rest of the building, unpainted. Torn, dirty curtains indicated some residential living above Tom's Tavern, King Pawn Shop, and Tatoos to Go.
Lots of people milled about. A large group of men were huddled under a tree reminding me of a herd of cattle shading themselves from the sun. Young men with dark, furtive eyes, peered out from under stained hoodies as they scurried from one corner to the next and engaged in brief conversations followed by even briefer transactions. Men just 'hanging out' lifted brown papered beverages to their lips as they watched the 'local' girls strut up and down the street displaying their wares for sell.
I asked myself, "When do these people work? Do any of them have jobs?" Are the women as afraid to walk here as I am to drive here? Mothers were waiting at bus stops, one child in their arms and the other holding on to the hand of another.
As I'm dodging the cones of construction, I feel a rage welling up in me.
New sidewalks? New median strips? Huh?
How about some job opportunities? Some paint and free building materials? How about some free daycare so parents could look for employment? For God's sake, how about some covered bus stops or a cleaning crew to wipe the profanity from the walls? What about a clinic or an adult education center? Is this too much to ask? Do City officials really believe new brick sidewalks and landscaped medians will better the lives of these people?
We all like pretty things, but pretty doesn't make poverty and oppression go away or look any better.
BETWEEN THE LINES
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Judgement Day or WTF?
The results are in.
She was found Not Guilty and
I've been found Guilty by a jury of my peers.
"No. I'm not watching that crap," my friend snarked.
"I have better things to do," quipped another friend.
"Nope. Not interested. None of my business," said an Alanon acquaintence.
"I can't believe you're watching that. What a media circus," said my partner.
I'll readily admit it. For the last month I've been addicted to the Casey Anthony trial. At first, I just watched the highlights late at night on CNN, while bemoaning a lack of sleep the following day. Then I found out I could watch the live proceedings. It was a watershed moment.
My daily schedule was fine-tuned to accommodate court time - from the moment of the judge's entry until his departure. Phone calls were answered or returned only during commercial breaks. When I wasn't watching it on tv, I was reading Facebook posts about the trial. I'd say, the opinions ran 50% guilty, 50% not enough evidence. NO ONE I talked to thought innocent.
I watched every move and facial expression of 'Tot Mom'. I wanted to hate her and I learned to hate her more each day. I developed a new obsession - one that enthralled and intrigued me. This was serious. I hadn't even found the time to go to Target in days!
After being slapped down by people a couple of times for bringing up the topic of the trial, I began to seek out conversations with those who were engrossed like me. We could spot each other. We were the ones with dark circles under the eyes, nervously watching the time, and pacing to find opinions on yesterday's court proceedings. We cautiously opened our conversations with subtle references to Nancy Grace or 'the trial' until we were sure we were in the presence of another avid observer. If we were on the same page (and the same tv channel), the discussion would ignite like a firecracker on the 4th of July! It was exhilirating!
Tuesday morning I received a text from a fellow trial stalker. The verdict was in.
30 minutes later, the devil danced as Tot Mom smiled and let her hair down. Not guilty. What?!@!#
Now a week later the hype is all but gone. I miss the excitement. There's a void in my life. Worse yet, I can only blame my age for the dark circles under my eyes.
But to those of you who judged us for our devotion to justice, (and a little daytime soap opera!), to those who poo-poo'd our passion for the courtroom - we will not soon forget your pompous, dismissive criticism when fantasy football season rolls around. Your incessant chatter about which team and which game on tv will garner the same scorn you shoveled out to us during the trial.
We will remember your intolerance and we, unlike the jury in Orlando, will convict! :-)
Until next time and between the lines....
She was found Not Guilty and
I've been found Guilty by a jury of my peers.
"No. I'm not watching that crap," my friend snarked.
"I have better things to do," quipped another friend.
"Nope. Not interested. None of my business," said an Alanon acquaintence.
"I can't believe you're watching that. What a media circus," said my partner.
I'll readily admit it. For the last month I've been addicted to the Casey Anthony trial. At first, I just watched the highlights late at night on CNN, while bemoaning a lack of sleep the following day. Then I found out I could watch the live proceedings. It was a watershed moment.
My daily schedule was fine-tuned to accommodate court time - from the moment of the judge's entry until his departure. Phone calls were answered or returned only during commercial breaks. When I wasn't watching it on tv, I was reading Facebook posts about the trial. I'd say, the opinions ran 50% guilty, 50% not enough evidence. NO ONE I talked to thought innocent.
I watched every move and facial expression of 'Tot Mom'. I wanted to hate her and I learned to hate her more each day. I developed a new obsession - one that enthralled and intrigued me. This was serious. I hadn't even found the time to go to Target in days!
After being slapped down by people a couple of times for bringing up the topic of the trial, I began to seek out conversations with those who were engrossed like me. We could spot each other. We were the ones with dark circles under the eyes, nervously watching the time, and pacing to find opinions on yesterday's court proceedings. We cautiously opened our conversations with subtle references to Nancy Grace or 'the trial' until we were sure we were in the presence of another avid observer. If we were on the same page (and the same tv channel), the discussion would ignite like a firecracker on the 4th of July! It was exhilirating!
Tuesday morning I received a text from a fellow trial stalker. The verdict was in.
30 minutes later, the devil danced as Tot Mom smiled and let her hair down. Not guilty. What?!@!#
Now a week later the hype is all but gone. I miss the excitement. There's a void in my life. Worse yet, I can only blame my age for the dark circles under my eyes.
But to those of you who judged us for our devotion to justice, (and a little daytime soap opera!), to those who poo-poo'd our passion for the courtroom - we will not soon forget your pompous, dismissive criticism when fantasy football season rolls around. Your incessant chatter about which team and which game on tv will garner the same scorn you shoveled out to us during the trial.
We will remember your intolerance and we, unlike the jury in Orlando, will convict! :-)
Until next time and between the lines....
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