There'll be Martial Law!!!

That's a direct quote from a wonderful friend of mine who got just a liiitle cranked up on 9/11. It was a scary day true. There was no way to know what was going to happen for sure, and GODS know we had no leadership that particular day. It was painfully obvious that we were on our own cause our clueless leader was gonna protect his own skin at all costs. So I understood her concerns, and her fears.

But this week's little incident with Professor Gates does bring it to mind.

Sometimes one has to wonder just what the fuck police are thinking when they do some of the shit that they do.

I get it. I understand he was investigating a report of a break-in, and that he had to be cautious and that he had to protect himself as well. I get all that.

I also get that though the good Professor was likely justified in his anger, he wasn't as cooperative as he could have been, and that when he got his fill of this cops bullshit he let him have it. I get all that.


Sounds to me like two people butting heads in a public forum.

One just happens to be friends with the President of the United States, and the other, well he may be refusing to apologize, and he may well feel he was in the right, but seriously, does one really continue to get in the face of a Harvard Professor when it's not only obvious, but PROVEN that he lives in the residence in question?

I also get that cops do profile and they do it all the time.

I live in, shall we say, a very white part of town. Our local constabulary has a rep for putting up with very little. Given the chance I'd estimate that 98% of the people I see pulled over in this city are people of color.

In fact I have a little story of my own to tell in that regard that I'd almost forgotten about until I was sitting here just now.

Sometime last year I was awakened at 5:30 am on a Saturday by someone honking a car horn outside in the parking lot.

I am not a tolerant neighbor when this happens in the middle of the day, so let's just say I'm even less friendly about it at 5:30 in the a.m. I looked out the window trying to see if there was anyone I could identify so I could make mention of it when I went to the Office in the morning. Nothing, all was dark and seemingly quiet.

No sooner had my head hit the pillow when there was a knocking at my door.

This, of course, means war. (sometimes I so wish I could attach looney tunes wav files to these posts)

Apparently the offender was looking for someone and they had seen me look out so they decided I was the likely place to start. This plan had obviously not been thought through.

I opened my door at 5:40 a.m. to a young black man eating a twinkie and drinking from a gallon of chocolate milk.

"Is Kelly here?"

Now, just exactly what would a disheveled, gray-headed, slightly overweight old man be doing with someone named Kelly that HE would be looking for at 5:30 on a Saturday morning? (don't answer that)

"You've got to be kidding me!" I said.

"Hey, I'm just looking for Kelly."

"At 5:30 on a Saturday morning? No there's no Kelly here! Get the fuck out of here!'

Slam.

Three minutes later the horn honking resumes.

Now, this young man has obviously decided that what his heart really desires is not Kelly, but to spend the weekend in jail.

I chose to accomodate him.

"911, what's your emergency."

"Yeah, I'm at ***** West **, and there is a young man out here in the parking lot honking his horn and he came to my door asking for someone named Kelly."

"Is Kelly in your apartment?"

*heavy sigh*

"No there is no one here named Kelly, but someone needs to come over here and explain to this young man that the horn honking at this time of the day is NOT cool."

"We'll send a car right out sir."

"Thanks."

At 6 I decide that I'm going to view my domain and revel in the calm that I have restored.

oops.

What I see is said young black man standing in the parking lot next to his car with his arms in the air, and police officers approaching him from either direction with their guns drawn, and him jumping up and down screaming "Kelly!" "Kelly!"

Being the theatre person I am I heard "Stella!"

They proceeded to taze the bro...twice, and then haul him off to the pokey. I counted 9 patrol cars at one point.

A little reactive no?

I was later informed that the car was stolen by his father, and had been used in a robbery earlier that week, that the poor misguided fool in question had not one, not two, but three warrants out for his arrest, and to top it all off we have not one resident named Kelly.

I felt really bad.

I think that perhaps the incident could have been handled a little more diplomatically on all fronts, and had it not been so early in the morning I may have been less disposed to grabbing the phone as quickly as I did.

Do you think this guy was profiled?

Hell yes he was profiled. essentially we already have martial law in this country, it just depends on the color of your skin.

So, yes we have a long way to go in race relations in this country, and we have a long way to go in understanding why everyone on both sides of the issue is completely pissed off about it.


The President is calling the Cambridge MA police dept stupid, ex-gays (even though they apparently don't want to be gay anymore) are demanding a piece of the Matthew Shepard Act pie, and those of us with shitloads of education are running cash registers at grocery stores.

Shit is fucked up, yo.

But here on this gorgeous Thursday morning let's put all that aside in favor of more prurient pleasures. Let's celebrate a couple of men who seem to have defied time and actually gotten better looking with age.




Viggo was actually my celebrity love match this morning, how fucking cool is THAT?

love