Digg ThisI’m lucky to be writing this post.
I learned last night, from a local policeman, that 4 armed robbers were arrested around 3:30 a.m., camped out across the street from the convenience store where I work third shift. They had earlier robbed a bartender as he left work a suburb or two away; now they were looking at me (they were flushed out of a car repair shop’s parking lot and then pulled over for an “inoperable equipment” violation, where an inspection of the car revealed the guns; they admitted both the initial robbery and the intent for the second heist; all four suspects are currently in jail awaiting arraignment for the first felony).
As I commented in an earlier post, we’re quickly becoming a nation of haves and have-nots: we’re disposing of people we feel just aren’t up to snuff; who cares how they feel — just go ahead and treat them like dirt.
In this morning’s Cleveland Plain Dealer, Mary Jo Patterson quotes Annette Pelo, a survivor of 9/11:
We should never forget that innocent people, just living the American Dream, died for no reason at all.
How true.
Today I find myself trying to maintain what I have accomplished toward the American Dream, almost becoming a statistic related, in a backhanded way, to those who died on that horrible day (let’s face it: armed robbery is simply an accepted — and acceptable — form of domestic terrorism): I could have died on Thursday night, for no reason at all, save to enhance some thug’s ego and drug habit.
The only reason that I work there is because I have a $100,000+ mortgage to pay; I’d much rather design web sites. At least I can contribute to my mortgage; for many these days, however, it’s just another piece of paper, and not worth all that much: “Add another zero.” It’s not much, I’ll admit, but at least it’s mine: I don’t ask for much in this world, materially speaking — and I’m more than happy to work for what I can get — but I’d like to keep what I have, including my health and my marriage.
In all, it’s understandable: as a society, we value profit more than human life. We need to think about this.
And to be perfectly honest, I don’t know who to be angry at/about more: the thugs who almost robbed me at gunpoint — or my manager, who had no intention of even telling me about the event.
