Happy Sniperversary, Everybody!!!
The DCeiver points out that, two years ago today, the great Washington Sniper era began. Oh, what heady, heady times. To quote: "The world was exciting and full of possibilities, not the least of which was the possibility that hot, screaming death was on its way to your skull from across the Applebee's parking lot."
Everyone's eyes were peeled for the enraged Arab guy in the white van who hated Jesus or something, not the two black guys in the red Corolla or Buick or whatever it was. Now, I live in the District proper, not in the suburbs where all of the take-downs went-downs. So, to be perfectly honest, I was never all that concerned. The issue of the standard everyday DC armed-robbery-potentially-escalating-to-homicide was much more immediate for me personally. The whole Sniper thing, while tragic for the victims, always struck me as more of a massive scale middle-class suburban mother reading about the gangs and the "hip-hop" coming from the city to her pristine neighborhood and reacting out of all proportion to what is actually happening around her. I say this because, yes, my mother did the very same thing in many, many different contexts.
And despite me being thirteen years older and a nineteen hour drive away, she did not disappoint. "Don't you go outside!" she'd say when she called. I know she had other prepared remarks, but that's the only one I remember, having zoned out of our conversation until I sensed the topic had changed. My friends in Virginia were only slightly better, although that I will admit was somewhat justified. The admonition to only wear dark clothes when I came to visit was said in a half-joking manner.
In summation, I finish with another (long) quote:
"In our opinion, Mohammed clearly used the October 8 release date of Bon Jovi's latest record "Bounce" as a precipitating event. Muhammed was clearly "halfway there" and "living on a prayer." For "love" he gave it a "shot". Repeatedly. It wasn't going to "make a difference if [he] made it or not." He was a "social disease"-one you could "read about in the papers, in some places it [came] in thirty-two flavors." As many innocent people discovered, "you could call 911, but you can't stop the fun." Muhammed was "wanted-dead or alive." Sometimes "he slept", but sometimes "not for days". He "played for keeps" knowing he "might not make it back." He had "a loaded gun." And there was "nowhere to run." It was his life, it's now or never. Nothing was going to last forever. Shit, dude. In the end, he saw about thirteen faces through has scope. And he rocked them all. Finally, when he was arrested, where did his license plate indicate it was from? Jersey. Rest my case."
After work, I will definitely be wearing my Headshot! t-shirt from Child Labor Graphics to commemorate this august day.
Happy Sniperversary
Oh, and happy bday to Furious Mama, too.
Everyone's eyes were peeled for the enraged Arab guy in the white van who hated Jesus or something, not the two black guys in the red Corolla or Buick or whatever it was. Now, I live in the District proper, not in the suburbs where all of the take-downs went-downs. So, to be perfectly honest, I was never all that concerned. The issue of the standard everyday DC armed-robbery-potentially-escalating-to-homicide was much more immediate for me personally. The whole Sniper thing, while tragic for the victims, always struck me as more of a massive scale middle-class suburban mother reading about the gangs and the "hip-hop" coming from the city to her pristine neighborhood and reacting out of all proportion to what is actually happening around her. I say this because, yes, my mother did the very same thing in many, many different contexts.
And despite me being thirteen years older and a nineteen hour drive away, she did not disappoint. "Don't you go outside!" she'd say when she called. I know she had other prepared remarks, but that's the only one I remember, having zoned out of our conversation until I sensed the topic had changed. My friends in Virginia were only slightly better, although that I will admit was somewhat justified. The admonition to only wear dark clothes when I came to visit was said in a half-joking manner.
In summation, I finish with another (long) quote:
"In our opinion, Mohammed clearly used the October 8 release date of Bon Jovi's latest record "Bounce" as a precipitating event. Muhammed was clearly "halfway there" and "living on a prayer." For "love" he gave it a "shot". Repeatedly. It wasn't going to "make a difference if [he] made it or not." He was a "social disease"-one you could "read about in the papers, in some places it [came] in thirty-two flavors." As many innocent people discovered, "you could call 911, but you can't stop the fun." Muhammed was "wanted-dead or alive." Sometimes "he slept", but sometimes "not for days". He "played for keeps" knowing he "might not make it back." He had "a loaded gun." And there was "nowhere to run." It was his life, it's now or never. Nothing was going to last forever. Shit, dude. In the end, he saw about thirteen faces through has scope. And he rocked them all. Finally, when he was arrested, where did his license plate indicate it was from? Jersey. Rest my case."
After work, I will definitely be wearing my Headshot! t-shirt from Child Labor Graphics to commemorate this august day.
Happy Sniperversary
Oh, and happy bday to Furious Mama, too.
