One Hundred and Ninety-nine, 1812 Overture

I had a really bad weekend a long time ago.  September 7th - September 9th, 2001: I first got caught for going 30 over the speed limit in a residential zone--a mandatory court date--and then I proceeded to twist my ankle on a putt putt green.  Of course, in the grand scheme of things, it wasn't that big a deal with the following Tuesday to come but at that point in my life, it sucked.  My ankle healed well enough.  I learned that I really did NOT have the upper body strength to walk all the way across campus on crutches without stopping for a break every hundred feet.  But as the week wore on, I began building up some strength and I managed to go two hundred feet without stopping by the time I finished with them the following week.  The anxiety from the speeding ticket, however, did not cease.  The court date was set for Oct 22nd or 23rd--somewhere around there.  Court was in my hometown, school was over an hour away, I had no car.  Oh, and I never told my dad who pays my car insurance.  Yeah, I was freaking out.  I turned then to those who I go to when I'm in trouble--the Beatnik, Lord Chaos, and the Engineer.  They helped me crack a plan where Beatnik and Lord Chaos' older brother came down Sunday night, took Monday off to drive me to my hometown and court, and then return me to my schooltown later that day.  

The elder brother--Politico for short--and I really grew close that day.  He helped coach me on dress as well as making sure to show the proper respect to the judge.  On the way up north he had classical music playing to help relax me.  It didn't really work.  I was a nervous wreck all the way up.  Getting to the courthouse, we went in and sat down--us in our suits, everone else in their everyday clothing.  I might have been self-conscious about it except again, I was a nervous wreck.  Then he called me up...incorrectly saying my name.  My brain went into auto-pilot as I stood up and walked to the front; I corrected the judge on the pronunciation.  Part of me cringed as did Politico back in the benches (I learned that later).  He spoke the offenses then reduced them on the basis of it being my first one.  I believe I said guilty when he was done talking and he then told me I had the choice of points on my license or driving school to rescind them.  The rest is a blur in the courthouse except for the stop at the payment desk where I shelled out court costs of around $76 from my carefully collected rainy day fund.  Then Politico and I began our trip back to schooltown.

The Beatnik is the English major, but storytelling runs in their entire family.  For some reason, Politico began the story during the start of a Tchaikovsky piece.  Both the story and the music began softly enough up to the point of the cop pulling me over.  There a major musical announcement came forth.  Again the music quieted down and proceeded along with the story in much the same fashion that I simultaneously ignored the situation with moments of utter terror for the next month.  Then the planning stages of the court date were upon me.  Slowly all the pieces began fitting into place as odd as they might have seemed and the situation promised to move forward as smoothly as we could manage.  The drive up to the courthouse was a tense, advice-filled time and proceeded up to the entry into the courtroom.  Then the great battle (ok, this part was slightly off between the story and the music) during which the decisions for my mistakes were made.  Then, as we left, great relief!  Wave after Wave, Bombardment after Bombardment, everything was finishing up and the pounding noise massaged my relaxed self having survived the ordeal.  That song is now forever associated with that event and with the Politico in my mind.  In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal, but to me at the time, it was my world crashing down.

I realized then that if I ever got a chance to do something similar for someone else, I wouldn't hesitate.  The world gave me the company of people I needed at the time and I wouldn't hold myself back for my friends if such a time came for them.

Thank you my friends.

One Hundred and Sixty-six, Humanity's Progress

I had a family member who witnessed a terrorist's bombing. I will work with my family to make sure she gets the psychological help (from family and professionals) she needs to work through it in her mind. I do not wish for revenge on the ones that did that and killed others. I just wish for proper justice based on the transgressed laws of that land.

Evolutionary fight between physical might and the ability to protect/kill versus moral understanding and the ability to understand/forgive?

Nineteen, Trust

Do you trust people? I've slowly come to realize that I inhabit a world where people are afraid to believe in each other and afraid of the idea that others around them are there to help them out whenever they need it. Don't get me wrong, friends are there for me as I am there for them. But what about the random stranger or the new acquaintance? What level of trust do we keep in them? Those people with whom we're thrust into situations and we just have to make do as best as we can.

I trust people. People I know better than others, I trust based on how I know them. There are people I'd trust to water plants at home. There are people I'd trust to send some mail on time. There are people I'd trust to drive out to help me if I have car trouble. There are people I'd trust to call my parents in a foreign country with important news. There are people I'd trust with my family's safety. There are people I'd trust to never intentionally feed me meat. There are people I'd trust with my dad's cars. There are people I'd trust to keep me in check when I do go a bit crazy.

Why do I trust people so much? I like to think it's in part because of the Golden Rule. I trust others because of an inner desire to be trusted by others? I won't deny that I get those warm feelings whenever someone sees in me someone who they can trust. That no matter what happens in life, my respect and value for people will never lessen and my ability to help will only be hampered by my physical lacking. I think this is important for me as a future doctor too. I can't build a relationship with my patients if it isn't built on open trust. What I know, they should know and vice versa. A doctor's ability to practice medicine is directly related to the patients' abilities to trust their physician.

In a related vein, while I can lie and I've lied before in playfulness, to lie to protect an image or myself, even a white lie "of no consequence" would undermine who I am. If I screw up, then that's how it is and I don't hide it. If I decide to do something differently with proper reasoning, then I don't need to hide what I did. Will I make mistakes? Yes. Heck, I've made plenty of mistakes already. The important thing to me is that I do learn from them. And that's all anyone can ask of me, myself included. I'm far from perfect, but I will work hard to maintain the part of me that I do know (I'm still figuring out other parts of me). Integrity and the ideal to be truthful are one of the pillars of my life.

I say this not to criticize others (I'm sure they have valid reasons for their beliefs), but rather to point out where I stand and why. My way isn't for everyone. Yeah, it's people like me who get steamrolled by others who wish to take advantage of us for their personal gain. I didn't say my choice was easy, just that it is something that is important to me sleeping well at night.