Picketing Diary
Still Juiced -- April 5, 2003
In a way that is very good. Picketing is cathartic. No more gnashing my teeth which I was
literally doing. Getting out and doing something is a great antidote to feelings of helplessness. And
yes, I know this needs a spot on the web page but I have a big errand to run and
so that will have to wait.
It went fast today or faster than I expected because I learned patience. I got my share of
positive comments including one woman who brought me a soda. I must be very
old fashioned. It is possible to survive a couple of hours in the seventy-something (farenheit) degree heat
without a drink. I am drinking the soda now.
Part of me was afraid it had been defiled. I
do way too much Gav and Peloso
and life does not imitate my art. The soda is delicious. To me Coke-a-cola is better than chocolate.
I also got negative ones. The one that sticks right now is: "When this war in Iraq
is finished, the people there will have free speech just like you do now." Iraq for the
next few months will be under a partial military occupation. I wonder how
Baathist Iraqis or others who don't like the occupying power will do
with a right of free speech.
Besides my right of free speech is pretty fragile. All I have to do is look
across the street. The entire mall and its parking lot are off limits. I can't
bring my wallet to do my banking after a picketing run because if I walk on
to the grounds with my sign, mall security can kick me off. That's called private property
but it doesn't do much for the first amendment when public places become private.
Some young gentlemen got a lesson about free speech today. They were from
Opaleika, Alabama and visiting with their church. They were walking loudly
around the mall and got kicked out by security. If the stores had been on a
city street, the kids could have hung out on the public square and unless they
did something to endanger someone's safety they would have been let be.
They have a right to peacably assemble. They don't have that right in the mall.
They told me quite candidly all the malls they've been kicked out of.
Negative comment number two scared me. I've seen her before. I recognize her face. I've never
seen her eyes because she hides them behind dark, almost black, sunglasses. Her hair is
long and blond. I know some people have a real problem with the sun. I have
dark brown eyes and I like bright light. Still it feels weird never to have seen her eyes.
She yelled at me once before that I should support the troops. Today she told me to get my "
ass off the street." I asked her why. I said "It's a free country" which
translated into barnyard English means "tough toenails." Yes, it was a turning into
a real pissing match.
Then she got out of her car. She of course was on the driver's side so her vehicle was
between me and her. That was very good. Cars lined up behind her, well one or two. She
shook her fist at me. I reminded her she was blocking traffic. I touched some
very hot raw nerve. I'm not sure why. I mean if this woman were secure in her
views, the sight of one little protester in a rose colored shirt and black skirt would hardly
unnerve her. Hey, that's what makes horse racing etc... It's a free country. Tough toenails. I just
plain wouldn't be worth an ounce of vitriol.
I had a ladybug land on me. I also saw my first Monarch butterfly of the season. There
weren't a lot of vintage aircraft or cars out. Manchester Expressway is right
near Columbus Municipal Airport. I'm still feeling juiced. I know that usually means I'll
feel sick in one to three hours. The caffeine in the donated Coke will fuel the
autonomic rebound.
I have to walk six miles into town and six miles back with my
police permissions for this week. I got them on Thursday/Friday. That is
the way it works. If you want to learn about free speech, try arranging a small
demonstration in a small town. By the way, word on the counter demo is
it is students from my institution. I will not be a stranger among them
when I pass through or skirt their group next Saturday.
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The Creep in the Mirror -- March 31, 2003
Forty-five minutes into my hour of picketing he came barreling down the lawn. My first thought was that he was a cop. I was rating plainclothes, detective.... He said he wanted to talk with me. He began by asking my name and where I lived. He then asked where I worked. Since my job info is fairly public I gave him that. I only told him that I lived in Columbus. He said his name was Sam Bishop. I gave him my first and last name.
He asked me why war was not the answer and I told him about the US' aggrressive and unjust invasion of Iraq. He told me that Iraq had broken UN resolutions and had had enough time. 9/11 changed everything. IIraq was in league with Al Quaeda. He said I was doing a disservice to my country, that soldiers died to preserve my freedoms. I pointed out that soldiers do precious little to defend my freedoms. They do assure tranquility and protection from invasion but that is not necessarily securing my freedom.
Lawyers protect my freedom. First amendment battles are won in court and that is something that interests mainly current events junkies and law buffs.
He kept talking about how opportunistic and unprincipled democratic politicians are. I shrugged. I have no love for them either. I do know I was against Clinton's bombing of Iraq and also wasn't too fond of his intervention in Kosovo. I guess maybe I saw where all of this was leading. He said that Democrats intended to take all our rights away from us and wanted to control us. I wondered if this turkey knew we lived in a one party state and that domestic spending is spending for the people. OK, I'm selfish working in higher end. Domestic spending means money to my employer, better book budgets, more professors hired etc....
He said that the ACLU supported everybody but Christianity. I asked him to back up his point. He couldn't. You get the idea. The problem is I'm just as big a creep as he is. I juust tell a different story. I think most of my story is true. I reminded the gentleman that if we were in Iraq we'd both be fighting with the Fedayeen trying to repel an invader. He accused me of having a swastika under my coat. I told him I was Jewish. Sorry.....
What can I say. It was an interesting exchange. Of course I'm sure I come off every bit as weird to him as he did to me. He got to meet a real live protester, not just see one on TV. I guess that is a good thing.
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