Fragments
Every day, if one is paying attention, if not to the outside world than simply to the noises in one’s head, there is an abundance of fragments that flit through the consciousness without finding a connection. Here are a sample from my rambunctious cerebellum.
First, my pal Ross is a judge. He presides over family law cases. Family law issues are so emotional, that virtually everyone in the system knows that the people in these courtrooms are more dangerous even than those attending a criminal proceeding. Which is why there is often doubled screening of people entering a family law courtroom, and usually extra bailiffs. Ross has added an extra layer of security, at the suggestion of his brilliant lawyer wife. He has stacked up old law books underneath his desk. If shooting breaks out, he can duck down below until the firing stops.
Second, my pal Don used to be a cop. He recounts stories of some of the people he had to arrest for traffic violations. One was a man who followed a fire truck to the scene of a conflagration, racing in and out of traffic, through the wrong lanes and red lights, as the hook-’n-ladder sped to the scene of the disaster. Worse, the man was driving a station wagon with seven children on board. The guy explained to the judge that he was simply demonstrating the workings of the fire department to the children, and that Don was completely outta line. The judge not only found the man guilty of every infraction Don could think of, but also had the man sit in the courtroom and consider the error of this ways.
Third, I tend to check out television when I am on the road, as part of my never-ending research into the petri dish of common American culture, and that often means visiting some of the so-called premium channels that are offered to lure book-less travelers to their select lodging. So it happened that I saw a promo for a program featuring the alleged comedians Penn & Teller. The title of the program was "Bullshit!" They used to be thought clever, but they must have lost their edge if they have to billboard their act with such an obvious truth.
Fourth, maybe it’s the times, but porn radio seems to be all the rage. A station in New York was offering prizes to couples who had sex in public places. The offending disc jockeys lost their gig when one competing couple was caught fornicating, with a witness, in a cathedral. On a Florida radio station, filthy jokes were accompanied by inarticulate guffawing, and a mindlessly repetitive rant of "I like beer, I like boobs." At least half of that was narcissism.
Fifth, a bunch of "news" organizations found the Winona Ryder sentencing to be a story that warranted live coverage, and broke into their normal flow of sleaze. So one saw the young woman’s attorney make a plea for leniency, based on the actress' otherwise exemplary record of public service, including offering, futilely as it turned out, a $1,000,000 reward for the safe return of Polly Klaas; they were both of Petaluma, California. In rebuttal, one of the prosecutors complained that the defense was "dragging out the body of a dead girl." Ryder rose from her chair in astonished outrage; hey, even over-drugged shoplifters have rights. The judge should have tossed the prosecutress in the pokey for contempt, but didn't. Of course, it was Southern California, where such conduct is hardly noteworthy.
And that’s SetonnoteS...I’m Tony Seton.
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