Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing
Had a friend point out that a few weeks ago when I talked about the Preakness in Baltimore, I did not mention anything about the riots that were taking place in that city. Actually the riots had subsided by the time of the horse race.
It is interesting to note that when it came time for the running of the Preakness, some of the most wealthy people in our society came to the city to watch the horse race. The same city where just days before had been partially destroyed by some of the poorest people of our society. And never the twain shall meet.
Over the Memorial Day weekend 48 people were shot in Chicago, 12 died. Over the same period of time 29 people were shot in Baltimore, 8 died. The questions seem quite straight forward. Where’s the outrage? Where’s Brother Al Sharpton? Why are the rioters not burning down the city once again? Why has President Obama not gone on TV to condemn these killings? They were all black people, both the wounded and the dead. And you know what, I’m willing to bet that you don’t know a single one of their names. They didn’t make the news. Why don’t these black lives matter? They matter to me, and I too don’t know their names.
Then comes a crazy 21 year old white man, does the unspeakable act of murder inside the church. Nine people die and the whole country explodes in righteous anger. Rightly so. But why not over the Memorial Day Weekend? 20 die on a hot spring holiday and we don’t give a damn. Just don’t make sense, how we pick and choose what to concern ourselves with.
Now we jump on a battle flag from the Civil War thinking that will end all our troubles. Just burn that flag. And then someday soon……. Another flag, another cause…….. Another reason to be offended…… Another flag to burn.
Didn’t they try this burning thing one time with books? That didn’t work too well, nor shall burning flags.
Ever been in a situation where the best laid plans go off track. Not only off track, off the map off track.
It all started when the She said she wanted to go to Wall Mart. Usually that means a trip to Valparaiso IN. But this day I had documents to drop off to a client in Knox IN, so rather than backtrack, we decided to go the Wall Mart Store at Plymouth IN.
We left work late Friday afternoon in the rain and it continued as I took care of my business at Knox and continued toward Plymouth. Half way to our destination the soft gentle rain turned into a “slow down the car to 20 mph kinda rain.
The first two traffic lights at Plymouth were not working and the traffic on the 4 lane road was, as usual dealing with the situation very poorly. We were happy to see the traffic light at the Wall Mart intersection working. It appeared that all was well as we rolled into the asphalt jungle they call a parking lot. In the driving rain, all the “Blue Man” parking slots were filled with non blue man tags. So we were relegated to what seemed to be at least a ¼ mile from the entrance to falling prices.
We entered the building with an overall appearance of two drowned cats, both me and the She were in need of something very dry to wipe enough rain from our glasses to at least see where the shopping carts were located. Wiping glasses on the tail of my already wet shirt done little to eliminate the need for something dry to wipe the glasses. Guess it was the thought that counts in a situation like that.
The first item of interest on the list was something from the garden supply section at the far end of the building. Walking toward that location it became apparent that most if not all of the happy shoppers in the store were flowing along our direction of travel. The She thought she had the unusual traffic flow figured out when she said “There must be a sale in the garden section”. That’s when a kid walking beside us said “No, all the cash registers are out and there is a single manual cash register at the garden section and they’re telling people to try to checkout there.” And the rush was on.
The people inside that building were not happy Wall Mart Shoppers to say the least. One could feel the hostility in the room. Tension the size of fully wound alarm clocks walked the lanes and carried frowns you could see a mile. Hundreds of angry people were pushing and shoving their way into the garden section to fight for the right to check out come hell, high water, or no electricity.
We opted not to get involved with that already unruly mob, and chose instead to hold hands and walk back into the rain looking forward to the ¼ mile trek back to the warm confines of Mr. Lincoln. By the time we’d returned to Knox we were dry enough to stop at one of the local restaurants for our evening meal. And so we did. It was dry inside, they had electricity and the cash register worked.
From the EastWing, The Preakness And The Twain, Black Death In Black & White, Burning
Flags While Burning Nothing, Best Laid Plans, Wall Mart Without Cash Registers, Holding Hands & Loving In The Rain.
I Wish You Well,