Category: crime

Second instinct

I was talking to my lady friend recently. The conversation was about morality and religion. I was challenging her, playfully but genuinely, on her very firm religious views. She and I are very different in our approach, but we do share a genuine belief in a higher power. More importantly, we are both very committed to being good people in a very messed-up world. I say that salvation lies in being a good person. She insists that the goal is Heaven. She insists the only path is through the Big JC. I see our similarities; I think she sees the differences in our approach. It’s a work in progress and we’re both saying and doing the same thing. The conversation took an interesting twist, as I pointed out to her that I tried to be a good person every day and in every interaction with people. Her reaction, which concerned as well as fascinated me, was to say, “You shouldn’t have to try.”
I couldn’t disagree more.

I was raised by the last generation that produced tough, independent, and resilient people. I was taught how to handle myself as well as deal with others. Respect for elders was important. A handshake was your word. A promise made was a promise kept. Your reputation mattered. How you conducted yourself was in due proportion to how you were perceived. Manners weren’t an ideal, they were the gold standard.

Let’s face it, the behavior of people has taken a tragic turn. Except for the good people around us, I always want to acknowledge them as the rule and not the exception, manners and respect are out the window. Personal space, respect for the elderly, decorum, clothing choices, and of course, public conduct are all out the window. Some days, it takes all my energy to stay calm. I try not to become furious at how people treat each other and me. Beyond the notion of anger at the deterioration of society, it also saddens me.

So,where does the earlier comment about “trying” enter into this? My lady friend maintains that, as a good Christian, it should happen naturally. She further explained that if you have to try, then it isn’t organic. That is the Biblical Scholar in her. I love this about her and it maddens me at the same time. Being a person of faith, having accepted JC as your lord and savior, does not make you less mortal. As a mortal person, you have the same human frailties as the rest of us. You are no less prone to being annoyed, offended, or insulted. I do give Christians the advantage in forgiveness. They, and my lady friend is included, are very good at that.

Me, sometimes it takes a little work. I am very rigid when it comes to societal standards. What people do, say, wear, etc., in public concerns me. I don’t care for blatant displays of public affection. I don’t love profanity on shirts and bumper stickers. I dislike slovenly people wearing pajamas outside of the house. I strongly dislike rude behavior. I can go on but you get it. Mind you, I’m not a prude by any means. I don’t hate those who offend my sensibilities; they just challenge me. So I have to “try” to conduct myself to my own standards in reaction to their low standards. I invariably succeed, but it’s not easy for me. It takes work. I made a semantic error. I should have stated “it takes effort” instead of the word “try”. Still, I’m glad because it led to a meaningful conversation. It caused me to explore it further here. As part of that exploration, I was reminded of one of my staple coping mechanisms, Second Instinct.

When I try to be a good person and do the right thing as often as humanly possible, the Second Instinct is often utilized. Sometimes doing the right thing entails doing nothing other than not being an asshole. Increasingly, it’s more work than that. When I’m treated poorly or disrespectfully, my natural instinct is to lash out. I can be a righteous sonofabitch when challenged. But years ago, as my blood pressure was rising, I had to learn how to control my reaction to events. I began to repeat a mantra to myself. “Not everything requires a reaction,” I said it over and over. I did this when in environments that cause me stress.
I trained myself. And it has served me well. I take a deep breath instead of getting into verbal or physical altercations. I control my first reaction or instinct. Then, I go with my second one. I have found that most times my first instinct is correct, because I do believe that I am a good person that knows how to conduct himself properly. But sometimes things do require a reaction. A good person can walk away from most things. But a person with self-respect will assert himself if his dignity is on the line. In which case, the second instinct will be the same as the first. But the second one is almost always right.

God Bless America (not where you think I’m going with this)

It has taken many years, but I’ve learned a great deal about myself. The good, bad, and different. One thing I have learned is that I fit into very few molds. I’m built differently. Not better, just different.

I suppose, for context, where I’m going with this is that I don’t like much of what many others do. I don’t seek, crave, approve of, or aspire to SO many things that many do.

For starters, I don’t dance. I’m not rebelling against dancing; I truly don’t get it. I have never felt the need to move my body, nor do I care to express myself by doing so. It just doesn’t interest me, and I don’t see the point.
I make my own style. While I don’t think I have found that style yet, I do know that “slob” is not it. I believe in looking your best (this, of course, depends on the day) when you go out in public. Bathing, shaving, and checking your shirt for meatball stains should be a requirement to leave the house. Yes, that includes trips to Walmart.
I reject materialism. My minimalist lifestyle may be partially at fault for my lack of a romantic partner. My motorcycle is my only flashy possession. In all else, I lead a modest lifestyle. This wouldn’t be very different if I were to come into a lot of money. I would buy a house, own a few vehicles, and buy better brands, but not much else. I believe in the concept of enough. I don’t want too much, I merely desire enough to not want or need. I would love to not worry about money for once in my life.
I am also tragically non-conformist. If “everyone is doing it”, you can bet I’m probably not. I don’t refuse to partake in things because they’re popular, I merely test things for substance first. I am from a generation that bought millions of Pet Rocks. I know of what I speak. If something or someone is the big thing, it/they will be evaluated for substance.
Particularly people. Celebrities, to be exact.

Celebrity is defined in many ways but I have a simple one; being famous for the sake of being famous. Missing from this, or any existing definition of celebrity, is the word Merit. With some noteworthy exceptions, I am decidedly anti-celebrity. Actors, Social Media Influencers (what a joke), Youtubers and TikTokkers are meaningless to me. All of them aimed to become famous. They were willing to do anything or compromise anything about themselves to achieve notoriety. It’s not their fault, because they all knew that there would be throngs of conformist sheep to devour their wares.
Being known is one thing, being famous is quite another.
I really can’t tell you how intrigued I was when I saw a clip for the movie God Bless America. I even paid $2.99 to rent it. I struggled with it, but I couldn’t resist the fantasy. After all, who wouldn’t love the notion of a man taking on the vapid world of meaningless celebrity? A fed-up, decency-craving American certainly would.

On associations

Even when I’m doing a good job of not dwelling on the past, it still rears its ugly head. If I had to guess, it is almost always in the form of association.

I came across the movie Johnny Dangerously on HBO MAX today. There really aren’t words to describe how much I love the movie. It’s just the slapstick, parody silly shit the doctor has always prescribed. I know every line. Of course I watched it.

So where does my mind go? Ernie.

Ernie is not his real name. I wouldn’t give up his real name. It’s a nickname and a funny one at that. His premature receding hairline and oddly shaped head gave him a striking resemblance to Ernie of Ernie and Bert fame. He was a good guy and, like everything else in his life, he rolled with the nickname. He never had it easy. Girls eluded him, he never got his shot at Stand-up Comedy, he lost his brother to a tragic suicide soon after High School, his relationship with his family was very complicated.

I was there for all of it. We were, after all, best of friends. After High School, we both attended the same College. I was a year ahead of him so I spent my Freshman year without my sidekick but once he arrived, goofy smile and Pork-Pie hat in hand, we were inseparable. When we weren’t in class, we were in the cafeteria, smoking, drinking coffee, and socializing. If we weren’t in school we were probably playing hooky and underage drinking in our favorite bar down the street.

I shared my difficult times with him also. When my relationship with my father took a bad turn, I stayed at his house many nights. I was very close to his family. They treated me as another son.

We leaned on each other and got through those times. Often with the aid of laughter. Never underestimate the power of a warped sense of humor. Comedy specials on HBO, cartoons and movies were our refuge. We shared a love for Bloom County. I think the lovable oaf Opus the penguin was a relatable character to us. We could quote both the cartoons and the movies line for line. And we did that a lot.

Johnny Dangerously was our favorite. Now, it brings back the sense of loss of how we drifted apart for so many years. Of not seeing him, along with the rest of the guys that I spent all of my time with in my late teens and twenties, since we all went the married with kids route.

And,of course, the shock and heartbreak of learning that he was recently arrested for sexually abusing his own son. My friend (can I still call him that?) is going to spend the rest of his life in jail.

Between the shock, disgust, anger and countless other confusing emotions, I still cling to the memories of a better time. Thanks to associations. Silly movies, in this case, stand for the good and the bad times alike.

A jury of his peers

The fragility of freedom                

A friend of mine was acquitted by a jury of his peers on Thursday. It was the correct verdict in my opinion. The jury apparently agreed, given that they deliberated for less than an hour. Considering the gravity of the charges, his ex GF’s young daughter accused him of some very inappropriate acts, the jury must have found them as unlikely as I did.

As you can clearly see, I am of the belief that he was not capable of the acts he was accused of. As a character witness for the defense, I was not tasked with offering platitudes regarding his character or my opinion on the veracity of the charges. I was only asked to describe the household when I was renting with him. I wish I had been afforded the opportunity to offer up my understanding of Steve as a decent, virtuous guy who treated the young lady, the accuser, like his own daughter and acted as the only father she had in the prolonged absence of her own.

And I’m also a bit relieved that I wasn’t asked to do that. Because at the end of the day, despite how unlikely I believe the alleged behavior to be, I could never say for sure that it didn’t happen. I just do not know. Having said that, the prospect that I may in some way either help a predator go free, or discredit the testimony of a possible victim is a terrible position to be in.

Let’s say the jury got it right and the truth is out there. It’s also safe to also say that the truth is my friend could have spent 10 to 20 years in State Prison, where he would have probably been killed in the first year. It’s also the truth, as proven by the accuser’s mother (the ex) on the stand that her daughter was coerced into pressing charges by her friends in order to “save face” from being caught in a lie. It is important to know that this child has a long history of troubled behavior ranging from promiscuity at a very young age to lying frequently.

To think that they would allow the charade to continue when it was clear, even to the jury, that it was a face-saving situation, sickens me. The man has already lost everything. His job, future prospects and most of the relationships he cherished. When an accusation of this magnitude is made, it doesn’t matter if you did it.

Everyone thinks you did.

Waiting on a verdict

the accusation and the path of its destruction

I testified as a character witness today, via WebEx, for a friend accused of a terrible crime.

I learned about the accusation in 2017, when he asked me if I would be a character witness. I was on the spot and, despite my reservations and a desire to think about it first, I agreed. I would come to regret not thinking it through before answering. I was sickened by what he was being accused of. Inappropriate sexual conduct with his girlfriend’s daughter.
Would my testimony play a role in possibly setting free a predator, or worse, would I discredit a possible victim? Neither choice appealed to me.

The plan was to hope that it somehow would not go to trial and that it would go away on its own. I think we all know that ignoring a problem or hoping that it goes away seldom works. Imagine my reaction when I got the call from the public defender’s office 2 weeks ago. Since then I have been so very torn over what will happen, and of course what, if any, impact could my testimony have on the outcome.

When I spoke with the PD yesterday, as they prepped me for my testimony, it became clear to me that I was only required to answer questions about the time frame in which I lived with my friend. That time period was before the “incident” occurred. There would be no tricks, and it would not be as portrayed on television and in movies. I would merely testify to his character.

Today I did just that.

I heard the case they have prepared. It’s weak, there is no evidence, and I find the accusations completely inconsistent and unbelievable with what I know of his behavior.

I talked to him tonight. He was thankful for my testimony. He expressed gratitude for my friendship. He then told me, in no uncertain terms that he is hoping to see me soon. That is, of course, unless he is convicted tomorrow and brought directly to State prison. A place where he is certain he will be killed.

If he is convicted, and this sounds bizarre, I sure hope that he did it. Because his life is over already. He has lost everything over this accusation. There is simply no full recovery from this, even if found innocent.
The stakes have never been higher. It’s all on the line. His entire fucking life.

I guess we’ll know tomorrow.

The Art Collector

There is a museum in the vicinity of Harvard Yard that houses pieces of Art from the Eastern and Western worlds pre-1200 AD. The museum is named for its collector, a known Philanthropist who made 14 Billion dollars off of one product. He is famous for a quote,
“I’ve often said I approached collecting as a Biologist. I want enough data to be able to draw valid conclusions. Art is a passion pursued with discipline. Science is a discipline pursued with passion. You have to really pursue the object, you don’t just sit there and have the objects come to you. You want to be a great collector, you better think of the fact that you’re gonna commit yourself to a real passionate treasure hunt.”
Recognize it? Ok let’s try this one,
“The drug isn’t the problem the user is the problem.”
Still drawing a blank? The museum is named after Arthur Sackler, owner of Purdue Fredericks, later Purdue Pharma, the company that introduced the world to OxyContin.

To be fair, Sackler wasn’t alive when Oxycontin was released in 1994. But he would have been proud to know that his background in Medical Advertising, in which he created “new and innovative ways to ways to make ill people into regular customers”, was passed on to his younger Brother Richard after his death. As the owner of MS Contin, a slow release Opiod (slow delivery due to its shell, Contin =Continuous) used largely for end-of-life care and in Cancer Patients, Richard Sackler of Purdue was painfully aware that the patent was soon running out and they would need a “Blockbuster” drug (take a second to absorb that concept) to recover their revenue stream. They came up with taking the much stronger opioid Oxcodone and blending it with the slow release Contin to create a more powerful and long lasting pain killer. Herein lay the dilemma; the market for End of Life and Cancer Care didn’t provide a large enough customer base for a long enough period of time. So they improvised.
Purdue shamelessly hired a Doctor within the FDA, spent 3 days in a rented room and wrote a blatantly deceptive application for approval that they were assured by their FDA indider would easily pass. The application included false research and outright lies about the lack of danger of long term dependency and addiction.
It passed. Thus began the crime of the Century. After their marketing campaing, perhaps more appropriately dubbed “push”, in which slick Pharmaceutical reps with uncapped bonus plans incentivised reluctant Dr.’s through any means, legal or otherwise to get the new drug to be described to a wider demographic for ailments as innocuous as knee pain. There is not enough room on this page to list the unfunny comedy of errors that occurred as Purdue relentlessly pushed this product through any means, misinformation campaigns or greasing the palms of all-too-willing Congressman (who looked away as their own districts were collapsing under the weight of the epidemic) happy to lie to their constituents and peers about the extent of the problem. It is a truly disgusting story of Corporate Greed, Political power through dirty money donations, manipulation of Government regulations and the frightening power of the media as evidenced by “America’s mayor”, Rudy Giuliani taking Purdue’s filthy money to make commercials praising Purdue’s commitment to assist those Americans who suffer from chronic pain.

It worked. Tragically well. At its high point 125 million Americans had a prescription for Oxycontin. That is half of the estimated population of this country. If you weren’t in pain, there were plenty of Doctors in Ferrari’s that could set you up in their “pill mills”. Even CVS got in on the game.
20 years later 500,000 Americans had died of overdoses. For reference, as many Americans die EACH YEAR of Opiod overdoses as perished in the entire Vietnam Conflict.

So let’s look at a segment of Richard Sackler’s quote again,
“You have to really pursue the object, you don’t just sit there and have the objects come to you. You want to be a great collector, you better think of the fact that you’re gonna commit yourself to a real passionate treasure hunt.“

Purdue didn’t wait for them to come to him, they went on a real passionate treasure hunt. 14 Billion dollars worth of treasure.