Every January 1st at 12 a.m. the world pretends something significant has occurred: fireworks go bang, horns toot, lovers and strangers kiss and a dozen blank pages on brand new calendars beckon with mystery and promise.
But the fact is, new years come and go with every tick of the clock. At any given moment on any given day, the Earth completes another orbit of the sun, arriving right back where it was 365 days before. We could call any day New Year’s Day.
From that perspective, a new year begins every second – some 31 million times a year – but only one of all those seconds gets any respect: the one that kisses December goodbye and January hello.
Calendars and the clocks that cross off their days are tools of our own creation, designed to put order in our lives and history in its place.
There are advantages to that, of course, but since the formal marking of time began – a relatively recent intrusion – every human has been required to “be of a certain age.” We are five years old, or 20, or 40, or 70.
Every time the last day of December rolls
around, we must tell the world and ourselves we are one year older.
I think we were all better off when we had no idea how old we really are.
From now on, for me at least, every day will be New Year’s Day.
All the tiresome whining and protesting by liberals and some in the black community over alleged police persecution reminds me of teenage girls primping and preening before their mirrors each morning before setting off to school.
“I have to look great,” they think, “because all eyes will be on me.”
No, they won’t be. As the late author David Wallace so beautifully put it: “You’ll worry less about what people think about you when you realize how seldom they do.”
The anti-police protesters are those teenage girls in the mirror, convinced by a controversy-hungry media and professional race-baiters like Al Sharpton that their demonstrations are meaningful and the talk of the town.
The truth is almost no one with a mature brain gives a damn about, or lends credence to, their mythical story of nationwide police brutality and race discrimination.
Law abiding, hard-working blacks and whites, Latinos and Native-Americans, straight and gay – all are thinking about themselves and their loved ones – not the girls in the mirror.
They are thinking about their jobs and getting an education and getting on with their lives day after day – not the girls in the mirror
And because they are law-abiding, their fear
of the police is limited to the chance theymight pick up a ticket for speeding or running a red.
The law-abiding also don’t think of the girls in the mirror when trouble strikes. They dial 911 – as they did over 200 million times last year – and a stranger with a badge showed up to help them out. Sometimes to even die for them.
In fact since the turn of the century over 2,000 American officers have fallen in the line of duty – never to rise again.
Al Sharpton would not die for the girls in the mirror – or for anyone else.
The rioting in Ferguson and demonstrations in other cities is depicted as an uprising against systemic persecution of Blacks by police agencies across the nation.
That’s a load of crap.
The critics of cops have a pet statistic they trot out to prove their point, but which in fact destroys it: Despite comprising just 12 percent of the population, Black men and women make up 40 percent of prison inmates.
That’s because Blacks commit 40 percent of the crime. With all the reviews and appeals inherent in our justice system, it’s virtually impossible for an innocent person to be convicted. Almost without exception, if you’re in prison you earned it.
Before technology got in the way Michael Brown was painted as “a gentle giant” with “strong Christian beliefs” who was looking forward to college. The world had lost, if not a future brain surgeon, a religious man destined for a selfless life in service to others.
Then the store video was released and we see Mr. Gentle taking a $50 box of cigars minutes before his death, then strong-arming the little Indian shopkeeper whoconfronted him. If you have eyes to see, the video shows
Michael Brown as he was: an arrogant, oversized thug and thief with a mean streak and a bad attitude. Just another prison inmate in the making.
But the video and weeks of grand jury testimony and all the writers in the world will not change a single mind in that portion of the Black community that still thinks O.J. Simpson was innocent.
They will shovel their load of crap, and perceive it as gold, till their dying days.
From Day One the Marines pound the necessity of leadership into the skulls of their people: If the general falls in battle the colonel takes over, then the lieutenant colonel, a major after that – right down the ranks to the last two privates.
The senior private is in command then, and if he falls the last man standing hitches up his pack and leads himself.
When there’s a job to be done – if someone doesn’t take charge then chaos surely will.
Which brings us to the Ebola crisis and what to do with Americans returning home from West Africa where the disease is rampant. President Obama and the CDC say mandatory quarantine for 21 days is unnecessary. Low-risk folks should keep tabs on themselves and high-risk citizens (health workers) should be “actively monitored” but not otherwise restricted.
The governors of New York and New Jersey disagree and have instituted mandatory quarantine whether the citizens like it or not. The military concurs and is assigning all returning personnel to strict isolation.
You might think, what with all the confusion, that the “Ebola Czar” appointed by President Obama would step forward with a loud voice and clear-cut rules for everyone to follow. Ha.
The czar, someone named Ron Klain, has
yet to utter a public word about anything.
The czar does not understand leadership because the man who appointed him doesn’t understand it either. Before star-struck Americans placed Barack Obama in charge, he had not led anyone or anything in his life. Not Marines, not a Boy Scout troop, not a business or organization – not even a bridge club.
If he even knew where the water was, he could not lead a horse to it.