Location: Martinsville, Virginia
I had business at the local community college today. It was a nice day, so I rode the motorcycle there.
Parking was sparse; I found one spot with a random orange cone in the middle of it. The motorcycle is narrow, so I parked beside the cone in a proper parking spot. After completing my business, I returned to find a small notice from campus security on the bike: A ticket for 'parking in a reserved space.'
I carefully surveyed the space and found no signage or anything to indicate the space was reserved. The cone could serve any number of purposes: Covering a pothole or a potentially hazardous protrusion, for example.
I reached the security person via telephone from the college office. I challenged him to show me the sign that indicated the space was reserved. He reiterated the cone's presence. A random cone is not a sign, I pointed out. How is anyone supposed to guess the intent of that cone is to reserve a space? Again, I challenged him to show me the sign.
He voided the ticket. Sure, it was only for $2, but it's the principle of the thing.
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
The Borders of Freedom
Where do the ‘rights’ of one individual begin and end? It’s a great topic and one worthy of discussion.
"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" were the Founding Fathers’ words, but where are the boundaries? Are there boundaries? Our individual right to freedom of speech is forfeit when that speech crosses into slander or libel. Our right to assemble is lost when the assembly is no longer "peaceable." Our individual right to keep and bear arms is forfeit when those arms are used aggressively rather than defensively.
So just within the first two articles of the Bill of Rights, we get a sense that our individual rights are limited when exercising them crosses into harming others. The colloquial phrase "your right to swing your fist ends at my nose" sums up this perspective simply, I think. But what constitutes harm and who gets to decide? Hmmmm.....
It's a wonderful topic and discussion well worth having, so long as it remains intellectual and civil and open to all viewpoints and opinions. Therein lies the very challenge of our republic: Only by allowing and considering even those perspectives so vulgar to our own may we keep to the principles necessary to maintain true freedom.
"Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness" were the Founding Fathers’ words, but where are the boundaries? Are there boundaries? Our individual right to freedom of speech is forfeit when that speech crosses into slander or libel. Our right to assemble is lost when the assembly is no longer "peaceable." Our individual right to keep and bear arms is forfeit when those arms are used aggressively rather than defensively.
So just within the first two articles of the Bill of Rights, we get a sense that our individual rights are limited when exercising them crosses into harming others. The colloquial phrase "your right to swing your fist ends at my nose" sums up this perspective simply, I think. But what constitutes harm and who gets to decide? Hmmmm.....
It's a wonderful topic and discussion well worth having, so long as it remains intellectual and civil and open to all viewpoints and opinions. Therein lies the very challenge of our republic: Only by allowing and considering even those perspectives so vulgar to our own may we keep to the principles necessary to maintain true freedom.
Saturday, April 12, 2008
Lake Placid Litterbugs
Location: Lake Placid, New York
The town of Lake Placid does a really nice job keeping things clean, even during this early April mud season. There's very little litter and debris in the corners, alleys and gutters, and a plethora of public ashtrays and cigarette receptacles at shop entrances. I noticed several people using these receptacles to dispose of their cigarettes. This attention by the town and most people here makes exceptions stand out all the more.
While walking across a municipal parking lot (adjacent to the Olympic arena), a group of three young women were preparing to enter their black Toyota with Connecticut plate KVAS. One discarded a lit cigarette directly in front of me as I walked by.
I picked up the butt and handed it back to her. My exact words: "There are plenty of ashtrays and places to properly dispose of this without littering."
For my citizenship, I was called names, sworn at and shown a middle finger as they drove off.
The town of Lake Placid does a really nice job keeping things clean, even during this early April mud season. There's very little litter and debris in the corners, alleys and gutters, and a plethora of public ashtrays and cigarette receptacles at shop entrances. I noticed several people using these receptacles to dispose of their cigarettes. This attention by the town and most people here makes exceptions stand out all the more.
While walking across a municipal parking lot (adjacent to the Olympic arena), a group of three young women were preparing to enter their black Toyota with Connecticut plate KVAS. One discarded a lit cigarette directly in front of me as I walked by.
I picked up the butt and handed it back to her. My exact words: "There are plenty of ashtrays and places to properly dispose of this without littering."
For my citizenship, I was called names, sworn at and shown a middle finger as they drove off.
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Vapid Conversation
Am I a snob for needing more in conversation? To be unsatisfied by chit chat? To always want to find the deeper meaning, to be fascinated by the underlying motivations, truths and possibilities? To not just have the experience, but experience the flow of it all?
It's so precious when you find it. It's addictive. Painful to do without, when you realize most of the world around you doesn't care. When they want (and will be satisfied by) something less than you.
Is the the actual conversation, the topic or the conversants that affect me? I value my conversations with my friend K no matter the topic. Those times seem more connected, more involved, without even trying. We may touch on the inane, instantly forgotten topics that make up others' complete repertoire, but at some point the conversation returns to meaning, to truths, to purpose, to heart.
The conversation, the topic or the people?
It's so precious when you find it. It's addictive. Painful to do without, when you realize most of the world around you doesn't care. When they want (and will be satisfied by) something less than you.
Is the the actual conversation, the topic or the conversants that affect me? I value my conversations with my friend K no matter the topic. Those times seem more connected, more involved, without even trying. We may touch on the inane, instantly forgotten topics that make up others' complete repertoire, but at some point the conversation returns to meaning, to truths, to purpose, to heart.
The conversation, the topic or the people?
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