I was going to write about a fucked-up guy I represent, but there are inexplicable, unnatural things I see that drive me close to the edge. It's snowing. It's 24 degrees F. That stands for 24 fucking degrees fucking Fahrenheit. The wind is whipping off Lake Erie at 25 miles a fucking hour. I'm walking the dogs down by the river, where the long-gone malaria-infested swamps killed off most of the early settlers in the area over two centuries ago.
There are two guys running on the sidewalk adjacent to the waterfront rail line. One has given in to the plummeting temperature and is wearing a long-sleeve Old Navy shirt … I am wearing one just like it under my sweater and long sleeve shirt, all under my made for Mt. Everest coat; the other is wearing his fucking tank top. Both are wearing their fucking running shorts.
If there is something magical about running that makes one immune from the fucking wind, cold, and snow, please let me know. I might try it just for that reason.
I was in court, having been called the day before yesterday by the deputy clerk about representing a guy … violation of a domestic violence protection order.
I checked the box at the top of the page for the date of birth of the young woman, and I mathed out her age as 14. The semantics and her cursive script belied her age, looking more mature than the blocky printing of her mother's statement. She witnessed her father's tirade after her mother used the wrong bottle of liquid laundry detergent ... no, not the wrong detergent, the wrong detergent bottle, the bottle labeled with a "2" instead of the bottle labeled "1." He smacked her in the head. Dumb bitch must use those bottles in order!
No big deal. It's not like the time after her mom burned the dinner rolls when he swirled the liquid drain opener in the glass and threatened to throw it in her mom's face to see how she would feel if she were burned.
The judge had again appointed me to represent a whack-o.
Posted by Bill at November 17, 2005 07:41 PMHow do you do it? I know that everyone has the right to a trial and is presumed innocent until proven guilty and has a right to an attorney, but how do you do it?
That poor child. That poor woman. For everyone reading and thinking, "Why doesn't that dumb bitch just leave?", it's not that easy. DV is a long, slow tearing down of a person's self esteem, self worth, confidence, and will. Your thoughts are so distorted that you can't merely leave.
xoxo to Bill and Stacey. It makes me happy and restores my faith to see the two of you married so long, still so loving, and with children that love and respect you.
Posted by: moonandsun03 at November 18, 2005 11:05 AMAnd yet, why was he in the house if there was already an order against him? Why? Where was the support for that family, to help an abused woman and her children learn how to turn away their abuser?
Grrr.
Posted by: lucy at November 18, 2005 03:05 PMYou represent him fairly. And ask him if he is willing to accept psychiatric care as a part of any package the court gives him. I've heard of OCD's been a little too much, but this one takes the cake. (P.S. I suffer from OCD and can attest that most of the ones I know are seldom a threat to other people.)
Seriously, get that man into a mental institution and on some medications. He needs help badly. Sadly, he probably has antisocial personality disorder layered over a brain dysfunction such as bipolar or borderline disorder. Which means he is a sociopath with mood swings.
Not the kind of guy to release from the hospital ever again.
Also keep in mind that we who suffer from mental illness (I am bipolar with touches of OCD) seldom commit crimes. In fact, our rate of violence is lower than the general population and we are, on average, 12 times more likely to be a victim of violence than the unafflicted.
Posted by: Joel at November 18, 2005 04:43 PMAnd to answer your first question I have another question... Do you see many women dressed this way while they're running? I'm just curious because as a female runner? I've developed no fascinating and wonderous imperviousness to the cold. I wish that I would. I hate the fucking cold. I hate winter. I piss and moan about winter all season long. I move indoors to the treadmill during the winter because I cannot stand running outside during these insanely bitter cold months. The running shorts in winter, even though I run indoors, frequently work their way to the bottom of the drawer and are replaced by good old fashioned sweat pants or silks.
So no. There is nothing magical about running that makes one immune to the cold. It simply thins the blood and I think allows less of it to get to certain brain cells of certain individuals. Possibly only male (thus my question). Taking a poll. Start counting the runners in shorts and compare male/female. 'Cuz this is all scientific and shit. Thanks for your help.
Posted by: Keri at November 21, 2005 09:02 AM