Held Hostage by a Stray Pit Bull

As my wife pulled into the driveway at lunch time she noticed two things. I had accidentally left the garage door open, and the interior of the garage was occupied by a pit bull. 

My wife opened the car door. As soon as she did the pit bull, with testicles intact, stepped out of the garage and growled at her. My wife wisely elected to stay in the car and closed the door. The pit bull lay back down in the garage.

My wife, hungry for lunch, tried to exit her car again with the same results. Car door opens. Pit bull emerges from garage. Pit bull snarls and growls.

I understand. People who own pit bulls love their dogs just as much as other proud owners of man’s best friend. “They can be so sweet,” is the oft heard refrain of that particular breed’s proponents.

However, you don’t often see headlines that read, “Four Year Old Mauled By Golden Retriever In ICU,” “Fatal Pug Attack Probed As Possible Homicide,” or "Corgi Attack Proves Fatal." If it’s a sweet dog you want, then get one that is bred to be sweet.

Pit bulls have a bad reputation for a reason. There are any number of studies that implicate pit bulls in a disproportionally high number of unprovoked attacks on children, and with a high risk of death from being attacked, as compared to other breeds of dogs.

To quote one study entitled, Mortality, Mauling, and Maiming by Vicious Dogs, published in the journal, Annals of Surgery, “Attacks by pit bulls are associated with higher morbidity rates, higher hospital charges, and a higher risk of death than are attacks by other breeds of dogs.”

I have known people who have taken on ownership of abandoned and abused pit bulls and they have turned out to be good pets for those careful and responsible individuals. But, from what I can tell, that is an a-typical pit bull owner.

From what I can tell, your common pit bull owner is like the individual I saw walking his pit bull through the park, close by where a number of kids were playing. He was young, male, exuding toughness and had the dog leashed with a chain. 

The un-neutered dog was for him, I imagine, an affectation -- an adornment, like a piece of jewelry -- to let people know what kind of person he thinks he is: a virulent, macho, type A, intimidating, dominant, egocentric force to be reckoned with. Heavy on brawn, but light on brains, like the creature at the opposite end of the taut metal chain, I thought. If their image were captured in a photo, it would be called, “Masculinity Without Humility.” 

Growing tired of being held hostage by a menacing beast, my wife called animal control. My wife sat and waited in her car for about thirty minutes until the pit bull got up and sauntered off down the driveway. A minute later animal control arrived, but the dog was gone. 

My Life as a Beatle

Tornadoes were just to the west. Rain came down so hard and furious that we could hardly see the distance of a city block. The downpour whipped my wife and I from in front, then hit us from the back. The umbrella we shared was of little use.

By the time we had made the trek from the Performing Arts Center, where we had parked, to the BOK Center, we were soaked to the bone.

I wouldn’t expose myself to violent spring weather for just any old band. We had come to see Sir Paul McCartney perform to a full house of 18,000 plus. For me, and I am sure many others, this was a bucket list kind of life event. “See a Beatle live in concert. Check.”

My lifelong love of The Bealtes began in the mid-seventies when I was seven. My dad brought home the the “Blue Album,” consisting of two records covering some of their hits from 1967 to 1970. It was with those two LP’s that I learned how to fire up the amp and tuner, set it to phono, lay the vinyl carefully on the turn table and crank up the volume. 

I distinctly remember getting to the end of side A of the first album and spinning in circles, with my arms outstretched, to “A Day in the Life” on many occasions. It was pure joy to my ears and an altered state for my head. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t comprehend a word of their lyrics, it was the totality of the sound that I fell in love with, and not one particular Beatle. 

By the time I had blossomed into an idealistic, and slightly angry teenager, it was John Lennon who came to occupy a prominent place in my heart and mind. I still liked Paul McCartney’s music, but it struck me as trite and lacking in substance in comparison to Lennon’s aggressive, and straight-forward brand of agitation.

Thirty-four years after I first set the needle of my dad’s turntable and lay down on the living room floor to listen to Strawberry Fields Forever, I took my seat just to the left of the stage, where Paul McCartney and his band would take to the stage at any moment. One of the bands’ crew, who was apparently in charge of the massive cache of guitars and basses just below me, picked up the Hofner electric bass and disappeared back stage with it. The lights dimmed. Not more than thirty yards from me, gentle smiling eyes, crow’s feet and all, was Paul McCartney with his Hofner, beaming at the crowd.

To quote a friend who was there, “It was a big blissful, communal, high-energy, three-hour, non-stop sing-along.” I belt it out with no regard as to whether I was in tune, or not, and tingled from my wet feet to the tips of my hair.  

McCartney, put his entire being into it. The music was impeccably performed. McCartney’s voice was a strong as ever. Between songs he engaged the crowd as if he was sitting in your living room making small talk and telling stories.

The question popped into my head. Paul McCartney is a billionaire. He was not in Tulsa, Oklahoma in the middle of life-threatening, severe weather for the money. Pushing 71 years and counting, why does he still do it? The only plausible answer is, he does it purely for the joy it brings him and others.

At 43, I’ve given up on aspiring to change the world. It’s the seven year-old, spinning me, and a 71 year-old Beatle that I have grown more to appreciate. It’s just having fun that I have grown more to appreciate.

“And in the end, the love you take, is equal to the love, you make,” we sang just before the house lights came on.

My Office -- A Photo Essay?

A tour through the offices, and brain-space of an honest lawyer...

An honest placard.

Watch cat in the waiting area.

High technology from a bygone era.

"What are my chances of winning?" "I do not know. Let us consult the crystal ball."

Just another day in paradise.

The Amber Hilberling Tower (named after the unfortunate young lady who was convicted of murder for pushing her even more unfortunate young husband out of their apartment window from the 17th floor) as seen from the deck out in front of our office over looking Denver Avenue, up and down which the crazies parade on a daily basis.

Health-care, Tough Love and 3.2 Beer

Federal health-care exchange expected to start on time in Oklahoma, officials say, reads a headline. 

“The constitution disagrees with you,” says Okierose in the comment section. “The federal government is not the final authority. States were set up to have more authority.” Emporiamike cites the Supremacy Clause, Article VI of the United States Constitution. Okierose is unpersuaded and unimpressed.

"Is Shannon getting ready to make a move?" reads another headline. “Republican National Committee Chairman Reince Priebus recently came to Oklahoma and anointed Speaker of the House T.W. Shannon ‘the kind of Republican we're looking for to build the party for our entire country,’” writes Wayne Green in the article.

9,000 people are on the verge of joining the ranks of the uninsured due to the winding down of an Oklahoma insurance program, and T.W. Shannon is the man in the house who has made its demise especially inevitable.

"Taxpayers are burdened and promises to the insured are broken at the will of politicians. I cannot support the expansion of inefficient government-run health care. Government has no place having its hands in people's health care choices," said T.W. Shannon, the putative future of the Republican party. We all know, it’s a tough old world, and any sort of help might make us soft to that fact -- or so the logic must go.

Shakin’ the Bush comments, “T.W. Shannon needs to follow in former Speaker, Chris Benge’s footsteps ... that is go work for the Tulsa Metro Chamber of Corruption. Why? Ha! He already does!!!” To which I retort, “Huh?” not quite following Shakin’ the Bush’s unique brand of sophistry.

In a letter to the editor, a concerned citizens states, “After reading the recent report in the Tulsa World about alcohol control agents seizing brewing equipment from a local pizzeria, I could not help but ponder the misdirected focus our state often displays. Let's direct more efforts toward truly pressing issues, rather than ensuring beer is brewed at restaurants below the 3.2 level. ”

In comment, Skeptiker pitches in, “I <3 beer.” Vegan says, “The ABLE Commission is a bunch of jack-booted thugs, leave our restaurants alone you freaks!” But I’m like Dr. Strangelove, who says, “I don’t often drink beer, but when I do, I drink strong manly beer.” As God intended it, I think. Who likes beer that gives you none of the benefits of a buzz, but all the punishment of a hangover? That’s bad for business.

I slowly scoot away from the computer, and lament, none of life’s pressing issues will be solved this day.

Sun Tzu Says: A Commentary on The Art of War, Entry One

The life of a human being would seem to be that of an actor going from one complication to another with perhaps a little bit of rest in between. Each day may present a new set of problems to be conquered, and each night brings a chance to rejuvenate for the struggles the coming day will bring.

Our struggles are as much, and often more, with ourselves. Our battles most often are battles with ourselves, between the multitude of inner voices that inhabit us, the sum of which makes up that which we call the “I” of who we are. We are composed of psychological systems that have been and will be at odds with one another. 

Sun Tzu said: The art of war is of vital importance to the state.

And so begins The Art of War under the chapter heading “Laying Plans.” The first chapter of The Art of War can be thought of as preliminary considerations. It’s the mind space where thought and reflection on the matter of struggle is not only welcomed, but necessary to the attainment of psychic integration of internal systems and inner peace.

Think of the “state” as the first person: I, me, self, that which I am, the agent, actor, thinker, the seat and vehicle of consciousness, love and emotions.

“War” is struggle with both external and internal realities. War is exoteric, and unfortunately literally real in different places and time, but it is also esoteric, lying within our own souls. 

For the average 21st century human being living in a relatively safe environment, “war” is an individual affair, waged on the inside. 

An encounter with a disturbing situation, or other person, out there in the world has a correlative affect on our inner world. Our battles force us to resolve how it is we should perceive the world outside and how it is that we should act upon it.

So, yes, in that vain, the art of war is of vital importance to the mental and psychic state of human beings every where and at all times. Why?

“It is a matter of life and death, a road either to safety or ruin,” Sun Tzu tells us.

Embracing Ignorance

Not long ago, I put on my first pair of bifocals and declared myself officially middle age. It took a while to get used to them.

The first week wearing my bifocals, I bumped into things constantly. I would lift my legs too high when going up or down stairs. I spilled numerous cups of coffee. At the end of each day my eyes were fatigued, and it felt great to close them and stare at nothing but the back of my eye lids.

Not long after though, I grew accustomed to my bifocals, and I learned to really appreciate them. They expanded my fields of vision, near and far. Now, things look somehow abnormal with my regular, uni-focals, which I had always counted on before to faithfully show me what the world looks like.

My experience with my new glasses got me to thinking about vision in general.

Everything we see is really just an interpretation.

What enters our eyeballs are waves of energy that are reflected off the molecules that surround us. The cones at the back of our eyes are only tuned to absorb a small amount of the energy that they are bombarded with. That energy is visible light, which is  a mere seven keys on an almost infinitely wide piano.

The way I understand it, when the back of our eyes are stimulated by light, they send signals to our occipital lobe at the base of our brain where the images out there are sorted out and constructed, in here. Everything we see is really nothing more than a mental construct. This world is literally all in our heads, and nothing we see is the thing in and of itself.

And so it is with all our other senses. Textures, tastes, smells and sounds — all of them are the product of a limited range of perceptibility and ultimately manufactured in our minds. The world we take in is only a small portion of what is out there.

It boggles the mind to consider how inherently ignorant we are, and how little we are capable of knowing.

We are creatures of habit and complacency. It’s easy to dupe ourselves into believing that there is nothing more to the world than what we can perceive. That habit serves us well enough, but it serves us just as well to remember that what we see is just the tip of the iceberg, even with bifocals on.

Much Ado About Agenda 21

“Agenda 21.” Sounds terrifying, right? “Imagine a world controlled by the Illuminati where everyone has been stripped of their property rights, and individual freedom is but a distant memory.”

In case you have never heard of it, Agenda 21 is a real thing, and its opponents are vocal and motivated.  

In the most recent legislative session at the Oklahoma Capital, HB 1412 was introduced. The stated purpose of the bill, introduced in part by Sally Kern, is to prohibit adoption of the United Nations Agenda 21 that would restrict private property rights without due process. Who wouldn’t be against the repeal of due process. Repeal due process and you might as well repeal the U.S. Constitution. 

The anti-Agenda 21 measure easily passed through the house with only 17 votes against it, and was delivered to the senate for consideration. NewsOK reported Senator Cliff Branan said that his committee would not take up HB 1412, essentially killing the bill. That angered Al Gerhart, co-founder of the Sooner Tea Party.

In an email to Senator Branan, Gerhart wrote, “Get that bill heard or I will make sure you regret not doing it. I will make you the laughing stock of the Senate if I don't hear that this bill will be heard and passed. We will dig into your past, your family, your associates and once we start on you there will be no end to it. This is a promise.”

Of course Gerhart is concerned. This is about defending freedom and the Constitution of the United States. So what is Agenda 21?

Agenda 21 is a non-binding, voluntary action plan, promulgated by the United Nations, to encourage governments around the world to combat poverty, pollution, and conserve natural resources. It’s not a law, and it has no teeth. 

Agenda 21 is merely a polite suggestion that maybe we ought to talk about protecting our environment and making the world a better place to live in. Oklahoma HB 1412 is literally much ado about nothing.

What on earth is fueling the animosity of the opponents of Agenda 21 then? Why would anyone threaten another person’s family for not passing a law that seeks to extinguish a non-existent fire?

Historian, Richard J. Hofstadter, wrote an essay entitled, The Paranoid Style in American Politics. Though published in 1964, it is just as relevant today. 

Describing those who are seduced by far-fetched conspiracy theories, Hofstadter wrote, “The paranoid spokesman, sees the fate of conspiracy in apocalyptic terms — he traffics in the birth and death of whole worlds, whole political orders, whole systems of human values ... Since what is at stake is always a conflict between absolute good and absolute evil, what is necessary is not compromise but the will to fight things out to a finish.”

And so it is with Al Gerhart and his like-minded cohort.

Update: On April 9, two felony charges were filed in Oklahoma County District Court against Al Gerhart for blackmail and violations under the state's computer crimes act. A warrant for his arrest has been issued, and his bond is set at $15,000.