Once upon a time (or when I was child), my father allowed me to hold a .22 rifle in my hands and shoot at tin cans on a canal bank. That was some 35 or more years ago so I expect that things have changed. It was also a very "controlled situation".
Parents today have more responsibilities (401k’s, child seats, Internet firewalls and Net Nanny’s) to attend to. Children certainly have more distractions (Nintendo’s, Home PC’s and IPods) too. We also use more crutches or excuses for not being accountable for our actions than there are letters in the alphabet (i.e., ADD, ADDHD, BMP, OCD etc).
Somewhere during these years that passed, the distinction between “gun” and “toy” was lost for a lot of us. Computers have turned fantasies into very realistic games and ordinary tools have become weapons of choice. We use cars run down enemies in these games (Grand Theft Auto?) now, we do more than just race around in virtual worlds. When things go wrong or not exactly as planned, we just hit a few keys and the entire world is “reset”. You start again at the beginning or at some predetermined starting point, so that you might improve the experience. No apologies are required; after all, it isn’t real, it's just a game. Right?
Walking into a public place (malls, theatres, and convenience stores) today involves some exposure to video arcades that provide customers (children and so-called adults) with games that reduce firearms (and automobiles) to “toys”. Is this progress, a meaningful expression or venting of emotions or is it just another way to stoke our society’s problems? It's not like there are any real adults to provide the players of these games with any constructive context to what is being played (or to keep the obviously too young to understand away).
I was introduced to firearms in a completely different context. Guns were never used on anything you didn’t want to eat or use as a target. Guns were most certainly not toys. I never had a plastic or toy gun. My brother and I were issued our first shotguns when we were 12 years old. Our natural curiousities for firearms was satisfied at an early age. It was understood that we didn’t have to be careless but once and we’d lose our hunting licenses for life. If we shot it, we had to eat it (warts and all). Life and the rules of it were simple. One should be held accountable for their actions. We understood that we would be held responsible for whatever happened downrange of our targets too.
We were brought up in an environment (a home) where guns were not things to be played with. Guns were used for hunting or for self protection. Cars were something that got you from point “a” to point “b”, (some were just faster than others) and if you were lucky they were pretty enough to get you some extra attention. The results of improper handling of firearms (or the cars) were more “real” then, not to mention permanent and painful. Death was not something that was dismissed or "made right" with an apology. We fully expected to get a bill (and to pay) for every mistake we made. If we erred it was on the side of caution. “I’m sorry” just didn’t “cut it”.
Today we have generations of individuals who’ve never owned a real gun that associate firearms with toys. They don’t eat (or are forced to) what they shoot at either. Persons who have no understanding of firearms are allowed drive cars and kill persons just as dead as if they’d been shot too. The excuses are all pretty much the same and just as lame when a fatality occurs. “Sorry”, “didn’t mean it”, “it was his fault too”, “I was drunk” or “he wasn't raised to know any better” when it comes to explaining away the actions of the perpetrators. They come up all too often. Meanwhile prison populations grow… and motive seems fueled by equal parts opportunity and ability to avoid capture/accountability.
I understand that life is not always fair, and that not all of us born into wealth, endowed with a sense of situational awareness, normal depth perception or the kind of character that demands that we do what is right as opposed to avoid wrong. We can’t blame the demise of our society on the tools we use (or misuse). Our misdeeds are not the fault of the guns, the cars, the computers or the video games that we keep or play with. These "things" are only tools. The problems of our society are not the prisons, our parents or the judicial system. The values we encourage in our populace or in ourselves are what dictate where we end up in the “food chain” (manager/legislator, worker/constituent, retiree/consultant, or prisoner/ward). When persons rely on lame excuses and whining to explain their actions and avoid personal accountability should we allow them to propagate or rule?
Friday, March 25, 2005
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
Larry the Cable Guy
Friday night was a night I won’t forget. We went to see The Eagles at RBC Center in Raleigh, North Carolina. I’d never seen the entire band on one stage before; in fact I’d only seen Don Henley once before a few years back at Walnut Creek.
This was a "farewell tour" for The Eagles and in a way it signaled to me the end of an age where we could consider ourselves to be young. Members of the band are all in their mid to late fifties. The audience was quite diverse in terms of age, albeit more weighted more towards “aged”, as opposed to the youthful. Most of us were more "relaxed" a trait associated with experience versus "impatient", which is usually attributed to youth.
We stopped off along the way to the concert at a Cuban restaurant named “Carmen’s” to have a nice relaxing dinner. We were thinking that traffic would not be so heavy afterwards. Unfortunately we’d not considered the impact of a late afternoon rainstorm and were late to the stadium (about 8pm) and entered the stadium shortly after the band had begun playing. Up until this point, I believe I’d always, I emphasize “always” been early to see whatever group it was we’d purchased tickets to see. Our full stomachs and adult beverages that we took with our meal would come in handy.
The crowd was relatively subdued but focused on the music. The usual cheers, jeers and ignition of butane lighters were not heard or seen like when more rowdy bands play. I was reminded of the occasion where we saw an Allman Brother’s concert in Raleigh a few years back. To be blunt, the crowd following the Allman’s made me wonder if a local corrections facility had loosed its inmates on the event. I’d never seen such combinations of tattoos, hair (long, short, colored, braided) or clothes. The Eagles’ following was a bit older, a bit more diverse; some watchers were more refined while others were to be gracious “more casual” in their appearance. All that (what other folks happen to look or sound like) is not so important though. I am not in the habit of judging books or persons by their covers either but came to the eventual conclusion that some of these folks don’t get out much (and shouldn’t).
It will take some time to get around to how I came to that conclusion (again?). Previously I’ve criticized tall and “large” persons who happened to get front row seats to see Hootie and the Blowfish in a concert we attended last October. One of the differences between this experience (with The Eagles) and that one is the fact that the “annoyance” came from behind, was more vocal, and a less visual one.
It helps to set the scene by describing the mood. We were late. The band had already started playing and the folks who happened to be sitting behind us were “there” long before us. Maybe they’d been there too long? What I mean by that is it was easy to observe that these individuals (a man and his wife) were “ahead of us” in terms of celebrating the event. To be more to the point, they were drunk.
Being drunk is nothing to be ashamed of in the proper circumstances. And these persons obviously weren’t going anywhere; they certainly meant no harm to anyone. It’s probably a good thing that cameras and recording devices are banned from these events to protect the band from persons who’d record the show and might profit from it. I wonder if The Eagles would have objected if I’d merely recorded a few persons in the crowd?
As we sat down it became apparent that The Eagles weren’t the only ones who were singing. Not that this was completely unexpected; I mean after all, many members of the audience have been singing Eagles songs since their first few albums in the early 1970’s. What I mean to describe here are the “background vocals” from the “gentleman” behind us was providing in a drunken tone. I am not a trained musician so I can’t accurately explain the technical faults of the slurred wailing going on behind us but was helpless to do anything but smile and occasionally provide the man behind us with the “stink-eye”.
The “singing” never really abated. It got worse. The best description I can come up with for this man is that he resembled a comedian who makes fun of rednecks or white trash nationally. So from this point on I will refer to him as “Larry” in honor or “Larry the Cable Guy” from The Blue Collar Comedy tour. Except that the real Larry the Cable Guy is a comedy act and “Our Larry” was a little more close in terms of proximity and less of a joke.
It got worse. Larry found it appropriate to make sure that we knew the name of each song as it struck him. We heard Larry announce songs like “Hotel California” and some of the members of the band like “Glen Frey”. During one of my “stink-eye exchanges” with Larry, he decided that it was time to become more “social”. In fact Larry decided that he knew or recognized me and asked me a number of questions. I didn’t want to be rude and was well aware of the fact that regardless of physical outcomes or the quality of verbal exchanges that one never actually wins an argument with a drunk so I kept things “polite”. Larry offered that he’d actually seen me before and in fact knew which county I frequented. It slowly became more and more apparent that being rude would become more like defecating in ones own mess kit. So I indulged Larry when he mentioned that there was close to about twenty thousand other persons in the stadium and that between tickets and concessions that each patron was dropping on average about one hundred dollars. The Eagles and TicketMaster must be rich! He seemed awed. Slowly the “beer buzz” settled Larry down and he was content to sing a bit more quietly and leave us all alone.
Larry wasn’t alone though. Larry’s wife was the person who initially caught our attention because Larry’s background vocals at least mimicked (or were intended to) the sounds the band. Larry’s significant other (let’s call her “Mary”) was using her cell phone while the band was playing. Mary certainly had more to say than those around her wanted to hear, even Larry. I guess that’s why Larry was intent on staying drunk and singing. Mary on the other hand was not the least bit concerned about Larry or anyone else around her that might be annoyed by her loud bellowing into the cellular phone. It was all I could do not to tell the woman to “turn the thing off” or put it where the sun had never shone. Eventually, Mary’s phone calls ended; she’d let all her friends or relatives know that she’d finally made it to see The Eagles and that she was “just thinking about them”. All these “important messages” seemed to me like they could have waited until after the concert was over.
It’s been five or six months since we’ve been to a concert. We don’t “get out much” either but it’s apparent that some folks get out a lot less than we do. I suppose we are more tolerant of the eccentricities of others or more so than most but it seems like we’ve had a bad streak of luck recently. As I get older, I appreciate social graces more and more.
This was a "farewell tour" for The Eagles and in a way it signaled to me the end of an age where we could consider ourselves to be young. Members of the band are all in their mid to late fifties. The audience was quite diverse in terms of age, albeit more weighted more towards “aged”, as opposed to the youthful. Most of us were more "relaxed" a trait associated with experience versus "impatient", which is usually attributed to youth.
We stopped off along the way to the concert at a Cuban restaurant named “Carmen’s” to have a nice relaxing dinner. We were thinking that traffic would not be so heavy afterwards. Unfortunately we’d not considered the impact of a late afternoon rainstorm and were late to the stadium (about 8pm) and entered the stadium shortly after the band had begun playing. Up until this point, I believe I’d always, I emphasize “always” been early to see whatever group it was we’d purchased tickets to see. Our full stomachs and adult beverages that we took with our meal would come in handy.
The crowd was relatively subdued but focused on the music. The usual cheers, jeers and ignition of butane lighters were not heard or seen like when more rowdy bands play. I was reminded of the occasion where we saw an Allman Brother’s concert in Raleigh a few years back. To be blunt, the crowd following the Allman’s made me wonder if a local corrections facility had loosed its inmates on the event. I’d never seen such combinations of tattoos, hair (long, short, colored, braided) or clothes. The Eagles’ following was a bit older, a bit more diverse; some watchers were more refined while others were to be gracious “more casual” in their appearance. All that (what other folks happen to look or sound like) is not so important though. I am not in the habit of judging books or persons by their covers either but came to the eventual conclusion that some of these folks don’t get out much (and shouldn’t).
It will take some time to get around to how I came to that conclusion (again?). Previously I’ve criticized tall and “large” persons who happened to get front row seats to see Hootie and the Blowfish in a concert we attended last October. One of the differences between this experience (with The Eagles) and that one is the fact that the “annoyance” came from behind, was more vocal, and a less visual one.
It helps to set the scene by describing the mood. We were late. The band had already started playing and the folks who happened to be sitting behind us were “there” long before us. Maybe they’d been there too long? What I mean by that is it was easy to observe that these individuals (a man and his wife) were “ahead of us” in terms of celebrating the event. To be more to the point, they were drunk.
Being drunk is nothing to be ashamed of in the proper circumstances. And these persons obviously weren’t going anywhere; they certainly meant no harm to anyone. It’s probably a good thing that cameras and recording devices are banned from these events to protect the band from persons who’d record the show and might profit from it. I wonder if The Eagles would have objected if I’d merely recorded a few persons in the crowd?
As we sat down it became apparent that The Eagles weren’t the only ones who were singing. Not that this was completely unexpected; I mean after all, many members of the audience have been singing Eagles songs since their first few albums in the early 1970’s. What I mean to describe here are the “background vocals” from the “gentleman” behind us was providing in a drunken tone. I am not a trained musician so I can’t accurately explain the technical faults of the slurred wailing going on behind us but was helpless to do anything but smile and occasionally provide the man behind us with the “stink-eye”.
The “singing” never really abated. It got worse. The best description I can come up with for this man is that he resembled a comedian who makes fun of rednecks or white trash nationally. So from this point on I will refer to him as “Larry” in honor or “Larry the Cable Guy” from The Blue Collar Comedy tour. Except that the real Larry the Cable Guy is a comedy act and “Our Larry” was a little more close in terms of proximity and less of a joke.
It got worse. Larry found it appropriate to make sure that we knew the name of each song as it struck him. We heard Larry announce songs like “Hotel California” and some of the members of the band like “Glen Frey”. During one of my “stink-eye exchanges” with Larry, he decided that it was time to become more “social”. In fact Larry decided that he knew or recognized me and asked me a number of questions. I didn’t want to be rude and was well aware of the fact that regardless of physical outcomes or the quality of verbal exchanges that one never actually wins an argument with a drunk so I kept things “polite”. Larry offered that he’d actually seen me before and in fact knew which county I frequented. It slowly became more and more apparent that being rude would become more like defecating in ones own mess kit. So I indulged Larry when he mentioned that there was close to about twenty thousand other persons in the stadium and that between tickets and concessions that each patron was dropping on average about one hundred dollars. The Eagles and TicketMaster must be rich! He seemed awed. Slowly the “beer buzz” settled Larry down and he was content to sing a bit more quietly and leave us all alone.
Larry wasn’t alone though. Larry’s wife was the person who initially caught our attention because Larry’s background vocals at least mimicked (or were intended to) the sounds the band. Larry’s significant other (let’s call her “Mary”) was using her cell phone while the band was playing. Mary certainly had more to say than those around her wanted to hear, even Larry. I guess that’s why Larry was intent on staying drunk and singing. Mary on the other hand was not the least bit concerned about Larry or anyone else around her that might be annoyed by her loud bellowing into the cellular phone. It was all I could do not to tell the woman to “turn the thing off” or put it where the sun had never shone. Eventually, Mary’s phone calls ended; she’d let all her friends or relatives know that she’d finally made it to see The Eagles and that she was “just thinking about them”. All these “important messages” seemed to me like they could have waited until after the concert was over.
It’s been five or six months since we’ve been to a concert. We don’t “get out much” either but it’s apparent that some folks get out a lot less than we do. I suppose we are more tolerant of the eccentricities of others or more so than most but it seems like we’ve had a bad streak of luck recently. As I get older, I appreciate social graces more and more.
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