Uncircling The Wagons

It’s no secret to Black Americans that most of us are bilingual. We are equally proficient in Standard English, used at work and around white folks; and its counterpart urban patios, a version used mostly around family and old friends from around the way.

It’s a subconscious defense mechanism. (And probably a subliminal warning from our ancestors about the pitfalls of full and unfettered assimilation into the larger culture.) Truth be told, we have quite a few of them. But not all are as useful in modern society.

Take our natural tendency to rally around one of our own against an outside threat.

Historically, this has been a cultural necessity, as few can deny the general truth of the fact that when white folks are looking for a scapegoat, they have rarely looked further than the next person of color crossing their path.

So I understand when we leap to the defense of another Black person, often before we have determined their guilt or innocence. After all, ‘innocence’ is just about as flexible as justice itself, and 400 years in America have taught us better than to think justice is guaranteed.

But we have to draw the line somewhere.

When Black public officials are being excoriated in the press, and there are more of them now than ever, we circle the wagons – prepared to defend them right or wrong.

We trot out the possible defenses – ‘it’s a government conspiracy against the Black community;’ ‘it’s a right-wing plot to undermine the minority vote;’ and if all else fails, ‘nobody said anything all those years white folks did it.’

Any or all of them might be true, given the situation, but it’s time to consider the fourth possibility.

They stole the money. They did it. Guilty as charged.

As painful as it might be, it’s also time to stop defending them for stealing it. You know why?

It’s our money.

You have but to consider a few of the many fresh corruption investigations among our Philadelphia public officials to get an idea of whose money we’re talking about.

All the millions that seem to have gone ‘poof!’ from under the Sheriff’s Office the past few years? Well, a hefty portion of that money was to be returned to the poor people who lost their homes through sheriff’s sales. Not fat cat Society Hill money. Poor folks’ money.

And the tens of thousands PHA supposedly burned on parties and executive luggage giveaways? Do you know any rich Society Hill folks living in PHA housing who should have benefited from that money instead? Me either. I know some poor people who could have used it, though.

These are just a few of the most recent samples, so please believe I’m not picking on any one person or agency in particular.

I’m picking on all of them in general. And yes, I believe it to be right and proper to hold our Black politicians, elected and appointed officials to a slightly higher standard of ethics – at least among ourselves.

It is to us that they sold their most ambitious campaign promises. They opened their campaign offices in the heart of our neighborhoods, and stood on corners preaching change for our troubled communities. We volunteered for them, we put up their fliers and posters; we knocked on doors for them, and we attended their rallies. They swore their allegiance to our shared cause of justice, fairness, and community responsibility.

When they lie, it is us they are lying to. When they steal, it is us they are stealing from.

The past generation’s struggle to get Black politicians elected to public office was not so that we could then demonstrate our ability to become just as greedy and corrupt as our white predecessors.

The idea, as I remember it, was to provide representation for a historically neglected community. To see that our voices were heard in government and that our tax dollars were used to better our neighborhoods.

It’s still a worthy goal. To get it, we don’t have to defend the indefensible and we don’t have to allow modern-day, media-fueled lynch mobs to sweep every Black person in sight off to jail.

We just have to recognize when one of our own is actually out for themselves; and quietly, without fanfare, withdraw our support. No defense fund contributions, no media apologists, and no blaming some imaginary phantom boogie man.

The time to take away someone’s license to steal is when they’re stealing from you.

Winter Survival Guide, Philadelphia Edition

I hate snow.

Yes, there is a genuine beauty in freshly fallen snow. Even abandoned cars and trash filled gutters start to look like a Hallmark card when covered with a thick layer of the white stuff.

But that’s where my fascination ends.

Being too old and brittle for sledding or winter sports, most of my experience with snow is associated with backbreaking shoveling, slowly trudging my way to work, or waiting on freezing corners for public transportation that may or may not arrive. (As an aside, one of these days I’m going to ask someone at SEPTA why their routes and schedules are routinely thrown out the window as soon as the first flakes hit the ground.)

The most enjoyable winters of my life were spent during my years in California, and especially Florida. I would watch the weather reports from the Northeast, and think of my friends and family battling the blizzards back home in Philly. Then I’d put on my sunglasses and head for the beach, giggling merrily at the thought of all those poor schmucks shoveling their way through the snowdrifts.

It’s not so funny now that I am once again one of the schmucks.

Snow, in case you hadn’t noticed, also makes people crazy. Television weather forecasters rant about the latest “Storm of the Century” while frantically waving their arms in front of the big map; and every street reporter is required to carry a measuring tape to show us the depth of the snow in their location.

We are treated to endless footage of drivers sliding sideways through intersections, slamming into parked cars, and spinning their wheels helplessly in supermarket parking lots. Ignoring the newscasters’ pleas to stay indoors, every grocery store is filled to capacity with shoppers who desperately need milk, bread, and eggs. Store owners, rubbing their hands with glee, jack up the prices on shovels and rock salt to the point that it would be cheaper to leave the snow where it is and cover your sidewalk with dollar bills.

But the absolute worst aspect of a major, or even a minor, Philadelphia snowstorm: that level of entitlement which says that if you shovel out your car, that space is yours until Memorial Day. As soon as you’re able to get your car out, you put folding chairs or recycling bins in the space as a warning to all who would dare violate your sovereignty. It doesn’t matter if the spot isn’t in front of your house, or if you have multiple cars taking up multiple parking spots. The act of shoveling out your car means you have exclusive rights to that space, for as long as you want it.

Silly, and alarmingly self-absorbed, the act might be laughable if not for the fact that it is usually enforced by violence.

Every winter, there are reports of parking spot violators suffering slashed tires, split lips, black eyes, and even gunfire for their brazen affront. And it’s not just here in Philly.

In fact, the tradition of saving a freshly shoveled space is generally known as “The Pittsburgh Chair”, as it was first popularized by our sister city to the west. It’s also a common practice in Chicago, Washington, D.C. and Boston; although in recent years it has been roundly discouraged.

In Boston, you have just 48 hours after the declaration of a snow emergency to claim your spot. After that, it’s up for grabs. In Chicago, Washington and Pittsburgh, officials have declared the practice illegal and police will confiscate your lawn chair. Washington goes a step further, ticketing violators.

Here in Philly, it is also illegal to save a parking spot, even if it took you hours to shovel out your car.

“Philadelphia police officers will issue a ticket for littering to people who save a spot,” according to Officer Jillian Russell of the Philly PD Public Affairs Office. Not only that, but penalties for those who verbally or physically accost another motorist for “stealing” their spot are swift and severe. Ditto for the slashing of tires or other acts of vehicular vandalism. “The parking spot doesn’t belong to you,” Russell says. “It belongs to the city.”

As we all know by now, no law or ordinance is going to stop it. No amount of tickets for littering will make a dent. (Littering? Really? Handing out tickets for littering in Philadelphia is sort of like issuing speeding tickets at the Indy 500.)

Fortunately, there is an upside. You might get yourself a couple of free lawn chairs.

With Fans Like This, Who Needs Enemies?

If, like me, you were watching the Eagles take a shellacking at the hands of the Minnesota Vikings in Tuesday night’s snow-delay game, you probably missed what was going on over at Fox News.

Tucker Carlson, the smarmy, bow-tied, bobble-headed pundit who’s been lurking in the shadows of real news organizations for years, surfaced as a fill-in host for Sean Hannity’s 9 PM show, and used the occasion to publicly call for Eagles quarterback Michael Vick’s execution.

Carlson, you’ll recall, is the same idiot who commandeered MSNBC host Keith Olbermann’s name for an anti-Olbermann website a few months ago, then initiated a public e-mail flame war with Philadelphia Daily News Columnist Stu Bykofsky while pretending to be Olbermann. (www.keitholbermann.com takes you to The Daily Caller, Carlson’s news blog, which devotes an enormous amount of space to angrily denigrating Olbermann’s every twitch and movement.)

Embarrassing for Bykofsky for not doing his homework, yes, but even more embarrassing for Carlson, whose asinine attempt at frat boy humor deservedly fell flat.

On Hannity’s show Fox Tuesday night, Carlson led a panel discussion about the phone call President Barack Obama made earlier this week to Eagles owner Jeffery Lurie, during which Obama praised the organization for giving Vick a second chance at a football career.

“I'm a Christian, I've made mistakes myself, and I believe fervently in second chances,” Carlson said. “But Michael Vick killed dogs, and he did it in a heartless and cruel way. And I think, personally, he should've been executed for that. He wasn't, but the idea that the President of the United States would be getting behind someone who murdered dogs? Kind of beyond the pale.”

This is ridiculous on so many levels; it’s hard to know where to begin.

First, I don’t know about you, but my radar goes up whenever someone prefaces a statement with the disclaimer, “I’m a Christian, but…”

It’s a pretty sure bet that the next words out of their mouth are going to sound decidedly un-Christian. Sort of like, “I’m not a racist, but…”

Next, as any watcher of television crime shows can tell you, murder is a legal term. It is defined as the unlawful killing of a human being by another human being with malice aforethought. In other words, only humans can be murdered and only humans can murder.

Animals kill each other all the time. Clearly this isn’t murder. And humans kill animals for food and clothing, and sometimes just for sport, but these killings – while you can certainly argue their justification – are not murder. Michael Vick committed cruel, unspeakably barbaric acts – and paid dearly for his crimes. But he didn’t murder anyone.

Vick did his time as prescribed by the judge, and in the process lost everything he had worked for. The megabucks NFL contract, the fat endorsement deals, the million dollar homes, the flashy cars – all gone.

After paying his debt to society, it seems to me that calling for Vick’s execution – actually demanding that the government strap him to a gurney and take the man’s life – is beyond the pale. To do so while wrapping oneself in a warm blanket of Christian love is downright blasphemous.

As an interesting aside, neither Carlson nor the other panelists seemed to know why Obama called the Eagles in the first place. The reason was not to praise the team for signing Vick, but to praise them for creating the country’s first green stadium.

During the offseason, the Eagles will upgrade Lincoln Financial Field with 80 wind turbines, 2,500 solar panels and a biodiesel-powered cogeneration plant. If all goes according to plan, the stadium will not only be self-sufficient, but will actually generate enough electricity to sell some back to the electric grid.

This praiseworthy effort was ignored by Carlson and the other right wingnuts, who ignored the real purpose of the call in order to seize upon yet another opportunity to trash the president, this time for standing behind Vick - coincidentally, the second-most-hated-Black-man-in-America.

Actually, the president’s message to Lurie about his quarterback was one of encouragement, of second chances, of forgiveness, and of redemption. All qualities you’d think a Christian would recognize and revere.

But here’s the worst part: Carlson claims the Eagles are his favorite team, and that he has been a fan for years.

Go back, Tucker, back to the dark corner of obscurity from which you came – back to wearing a tin foil hat while typing obsessive posts about how Keith Olbermann sleeps with stuffed animals, doesn’t eat all his vegetables, and sips tea with his pinky extended.

And please, please… start rooting for the Cowboys.