A man of my acquaintance posted a rather hair raising story of an incident that happened as he was out walking in his neighborhood-or so I gathered. He said a “disheveled” white man sicced his dogs on a young black woman out walking hers. Naturally, he cussed her out in the process. My friend ran to her aid while urging her to call 911. The disheveled man went back into his house. My friend stayed with the lady until the cops showed up.
“We’re not all like that,” my friend said. Meaning white folks.
“I know,” she replied.
And I suppose order was restored after that.
There is an African American gentleman who lives around the corner from us. About the time the Deacon and I took in borders ourselves I noticed college aged black kids walking around the neighborhood. 2 boys and a girl. I tend to be out on the porch a lot, the porch being my personal lebensraum over here.
The kids always wave and say “hello.” I used to think they were just being friendly. And I suppose they are. But after awhile, it occurred to me that there was something more to their greetings. Joe and Sarah run and walk in the neighborhood. I doubt they feel compelled to smile and wave at anybody they see out on the stoop along their way.
Which sucks.
The macro version of the disheveled cracker my friend posted about got taken down by State and Federal law enforcement in Michigan. About 16 guys were arrested for plotting to kidnap the Governor of Michigan. These mutts, holding themselves out as the “Wolverine Militia” probably could not knock over a lemonade stand.
For example, one of their “plans” (conveniently hatched up in the presence of an agent wearing a wire) involved sending somebody up to the door of the Governor’s vacation residence and plugging her when she came to answer. Like the Governor of Michigan would answer the door. Like an intruder would have gotten within 30 yards of the door.
Still, these idiots must have been about to go operational to some degree seeing as how they got picked up on the basis of a US Attorney’s Information filed with the Clerk and not an Indictment. That’s what Uncle does if he needs to pick you up in a hurry.
The leader of the “militia” was not exactly a candidate for Man of the Year. He was unemployed. And his girlfriend had just kicked him out of the home they shared. Some men react to such adversity by entering into a period of reflection and self-care. Some make friends with whiskey in the immortal phrase of the late great Dan Jenkins, father of the wonderful Sally Jenkins.
And some decide to try to kidnap the goddamn Governor of Michigan.
What a time this is.
You wonder how many other similar “militia” types are out there? And you wonder whether some of them will go ballistic in the event a) Trump loses the election or b) Trump loses and refuses to concede.
You wonder why some white folks are threatened by the presence of black folks in their neighborhood. Or women in public office. Or whatever it is that has put a bug up their ass.
But I understand why my young neighbors always make it a point to call out to me and wave as they make their way to the park.
God knows I’m not widely known for my warm and inviting personality. Actually I’m not known for that at all. I may not be the friendliest person around but I’m damn sure not dangerous. And I’m not a bigot.
So I always smile and wave back as they go on about their way.
Because we’re not all “like that.”
That’s the best I can do. Other than to get out and vote in an attempt to restore sanity.
