Guns Save Lives...In My (Old) Neighborhood

This is the neighborhood I grew up in:

A suspected armed robber lost a gun battle with a clerk at the Belmont Beverage store at the intersection of East Tillman Road and Lafayette Street on Wednesday afternoon, police said.

The unidentified man lay dead in the middle of East Tillman Road outside the store where police said he was fatally shot about 2:30 p.m.

“The perpetrator was armed with a handgun, which was recovered at the scene,” said police spokesman Officer Michael Joyner.

A store clerk was shot in the leg by the suspect and was in fair condition Wednesday night; he was expected to be released today, according to police.

That's right--robbing a liquor store in broad daylight. If you click to the story and look at the pictures, you'll notice that that particular liquor store's front is clear glass and easily seen from the road. Cops patrol around there, but there is no way they'd respond in time except out of pure luck.

And it isn't as if this is an isolated incident:

Michael Beckman, who said he moved into the neighborhood in May of 2007, also wasn't surprised. He recalled that a clerk fatally shot a would-be robber Sept. 12, 2007, at the nearby VIP Video store at 7504 S. Anthony Blvd., and said the liquor store was robbed twice last summer.

If the Brady Center and their ilk had their way, it could very well be the two clerks that would be dead instead of the two thugs who threatened the lives of people who were just trying earn an honest living.

On the Inauguration

Not surprisingly, people have been asking me what I did to celebrate the inauguration of President Barack Obama. Ok, I'll tell you:

I sat at home, had a couple beers, and watched it on TV.

Exciting stuff, huh?

Invariably, some of my more sentimental friends and family will be terribly disappointed by my perceived lack of enthusiasm for the moment. Indeed, I was surprised at my own muted response as I was watching the ceremony unfold, given my intensely emotional reaction to his victory speech in November.

My decision to stay at my residence in Virginia was due in no small part to the complexities of getting into the District in the first place. All of the bridges from Virginia into D.C. were closed to traffic by order of the Secret Service. After choking off the main arteries into the city, riding the Metro--which was already going to be a hassle--was nearly impossible, not even considering the limited parking spaces at the Metro stations to begin with.

But even had I lived in the city, without a seated view like the one shown below (courtesy of a facebook friend), I doubt I would have braved the crowds and cold:


While I am one to harp on my friends who complain about D.C. cold, given my frigid (yet bearable) upbringing in Northern Indiana winters, I'm not one to stand about in cold if I don't have to. Add to this: my substantial but less-than-phobic antipathy toward large crowds; approximately 15 different channels on which I can watch the entire event from a proximity I couldn't possibly hope to achieve in person; and food, heat, and beer, I couldn't possibly will myself to get up hours before dawn to make it there to stand crammed together with strangers from a vantage point far inferior and infinitely less comfortable than my La-Z-Boy (that, incidentally, required passing through exactly ZERO invasive security checkpoints). After all, I doubt the older generations felt that they had to be on the surface of the Moon to appreciate the accomplishment of Armstrong, Aldrin, and Collins. Going through that much trouble just to see it on outdoor screens just wasn't worth it to me.

But all conditions aside, there was admittedly something quite different about this moment than the one in November. This was a scripted ceremony of precious little drama--as it is meant to be--and of nuanced character, rather than visceral excitement of a historic landslide victory. A moment like this is perhaps best judged from afar--taking in moments like President Obama sending off President Bush on Marine One; seeing the moving skill of Perlman, Ma, and company playing a composition of "Air" and "Simple Gifts", providing an equally beautiful instrumental contrast to Aretha Franklin's passionate My Country 'Tis of Thee; or that moment--that brief moment that is frozen in my memory--before he walked down the steps to take his Oath of Office, when the look on his face was unlike anything America had seen on the campaign trail or even at the victory speech in Chicago's Grant Park: that moment the enormity of what he had accomplished and the undertaking that required, visibly weighed on him.

This was not one of his practiced looks of concern, concentration, or introspection. There was an unmistakable air about him--just for that moment--that radiated an intense determination without a trace of arrogance; and with a stoic sobriety that showed no hint of being overwhelmed. The everpresent veil of the politician had been removed and Barack Obama, the man, was--for an instant--revealed.

I don't know if it was because, at that moment, I saw something sorely lacking these past eight years--but I don't ever remember seeing anything ever so truly dignified during any previous administration, or in any footage or photograph I have ever seen of a public figure. There have been moments of unintended honesty, sure--portraits of Lincoln and LBJ crumbling under the weight of the catastrophes of war; that moment of angry humiliation that flashed in Bill Clinton's eyes under cross-examination on the infamous videotape; or that image of sheer terror when W. was told about the attacks on September 11, 2001. All of these moments gave glimpses into the souls of these men. But Obama's first moment was something different--something Christopher Buckley compared to a statue--and something strangely reassuring.

I don't know if Obama will be a good president, and I don't pretend to read any indication of that from a few seconds of video. His policy preferences are, to me, unfortunate--but he is our president, and I hope he governs his administration well. I wish him nothing but the best for his sake, for the sake of the world, and for the sake of our country.

Happy Civil Rights Day!

Ok, so it isn't "Civil Rights Day,"--but it should be.

With all due respect to Martin Luther King, Jr. and what he and his organizations were able to accomplish, he was just a man, and an imperfect one at that. The idea--that of protected freedoms and rights for all--is what is important to remember today (and every day). Many heroic and capable people preceded King in life and death, in addition to other contemporaries that preached along side him--and, indeed, in opposition to him. These men and women too should be celebrated and remembered--and, of course, their messages should not be lost to history.

It is just barely an overstatement to say that U.S. History texts describe the sum of the struggle for freedom for American blacks as the arrivals of Harriet Tubman, Abraham Lincoln, and MLK. This is more a function of poor history texts and the way history is taught in America than any deliberate "whitewashing" of the American tale, but it is problematic nonetheless.

While one would think it would be hard to overstate the accomplishments of such a remarkable man, such is the sorry state of things. The messages of men like Martin Delany, Frederick Douglass and Malcolm X-- of personal responsibility, entrepreneurship, and self-improvement free from government interference--have been nearly entirely subsumed into that of King and his followers, in spite of the very great differences in philosophies. King has become the end-all/be-all of Civil Rights heroes and martyrs--now standing for anything and everything that freedom meant, despite the fact that King did not support everything now assigned to him.

So, in the spirit of my Civil Rights Day, I share with you one of my favorite clips of a man I admire, discussing a quote from another man I admire, that I have shared on this blog before:

Liberty: Ironically

So, a bar called "Liberty" decides to back a move to restrict the liberty of others:

ARLINGTON, Va. (AP) - Virginia Gov. Tim Kaine, entering his final year in office, is making a third and final push to enact a smoking ban in the state's bars and restaurants.

He supported similar bills in 2007 and 2008 but the Legislature rejected them.

This year, he believes momentum is on his side. At a news conference Tuesday at a Clarendon tavern, Kaine said the public is increasingly supportive of such bans.

...

Stephen Fedorchak, owner of The Liberty Tavern, the restaurant where Kaine held his news conference, said he has been in the business long enough to know smoking was once entrenched in bars and restaurants. But those days have passed, he said.

He said he does not regret the decision to ban smoking in his restaurant and said these days "smokers are somewhat used to going out in a ... fresh-air environment" and no longer assume they will be allowed to light up.

As many of you know, I have recently quit smoking. I honestly prefer non-smoking establishments now because I don't like my clothes wreaking of cigarette smoke when I get home. But the decision to quit was my choice--and I still choose to go into smoking bars, on occasion. If it comes to the point that I don't want to ever walk into another smoking-permissive establishment, then that too will be up to me. But I will never back a government mandated smoking ban on a municipal, state, or--god forbid--national level.

Many of you also know that I was a bartender for the better part of 8 years. I've worked in smoking and non-smoking environments. I've always hated the "but what about the employees?" argument because, first off, most restaurant employees I worked with smoked. Secondly, any prospective employee knows going in that the restaurant/bar allowed smoking. (The ashtrays on the tables and bar closely situated to the smoking customers were usually a dead giveaway.) If you don't want to work at a smoking restaurant, don't apply. It's as simple as that.

I encourage all true believers in liberty to patronize any bar in Clarendon other than the misnamed Liberty Tavern. There are good bars there that allow smoking, and those that don't. I refuse to spend my hard-earned dollars there until they publicly repudiate their endorsement of this law. I implore Virginia and greater DC-area residents to do the same.

H/T: Jacob Grier

Please express your own dissatisfaction to the Liberty Tavern at info@thelibertytavern.com.

Mood Music Monday

Finally back in the Swamp. It was great to see so many friends over break--I just wish I could have seen a couple more. It's hard to fit in 20+ years of friends and family spread across a state in under a week--and that's discounting all the people I missed in New York.

Next year, my friends, next year.



Or, you know, you could come visit me out here, ahem.

Mood Music Monday Tuesday

You Can't be Serious

Wait, no, she is:

Lesbians and gays say that without gay marriage, they cannot fully express themselves as they really are. But what about bisexuals? I ask this not to poke fun or to hurt anyone's feelings, but in all seriousness. How does gay marriage help a bisexual? I assume that if you are bisexual, you believe that you need to have sexual relationships with both men and women. If you are a bisexual man married to a woman, don't you need to break the marriage bond to express your bisexuality? If you choose to express just the homosexual side of your bisexuality, then aren't you gay? Likewise, if you choose to express only the heterosexual side, how are you a bisexual? Why is bisexuality not a recipe for infidelity?

As I commented on Townhall, it does not follow that because someone is attracted to members of both genders that that person is incapable of maintaining a monogamous relationship with one or the other. As a heterosexual man, I am attracted to women--not woman, women. That said, I am perfectly capable of a monogamous relationship. Just because I am attracted to my girlfriend/wife "X" does not mean that I no longer find another woman attractive in similar or somewhat different ways, but my commitment is strong enough to "X" that I remain faithful, and can be perfectly happy doing so.

Screwing around with such straight-forward terms is disingenuous and is so fallacious it cannot be reasonably referred to as "debate."

H/T: Julian Sanchez