This hits home.

Not in a good way.

KTLA Los Angeles reported that a smash and grab robbery happened at the Topanga Mall Nordstrom.

I thought, “WHAT???”

That was one of the first malls I was in when my family moved to California. Back then it was called Topanga Plaza.

It’s just shocking when you hear of someplace from your misspent youth being assaulted like that.

One of my first jobs was at a Toys R Us nearby. The friends I made working at Toy R Us and I spent time in all the local shopping centers. We were young, and we were Valley Boys!

Where were you likely to find Valley Girls???? Right! They were at the shopping centers too.

While I’ve been aware of the smash and grab phenomena, I really hadn’t thought about it as anything more than something weird that was going to pass. Now, perhaps because this feels like an assault on my cherished memories I wonder how we’ve come to this point.

To be sure there was shoplifting. There was an LP in my collection that had considerable guilt associated with it. The only thing I ever shoplifted, and I did it on a dare. I mean literally, the only thing I ever stole was that LP.

I wouldn’t be surprised to learn that my friends were similar. Maybe once, and then never again.

None of us would have considered being violent about it. Maceing people or smacking ‘em around? Oh Hell no! We wouldn’t have thought of doing something that could hurt somebody.

Which makes me ask again what the hell has happened that’s made so many people think it’s okay to wholesale ransack stores and hurt innocent bystanders?

Is it just that there isn’t much in the way of consequences?


I really enjoyed watching the viral video of the cigarette thief in Stockton, CA getting his ass kicked.

He deserved it! The thief was later arrested in association with a string of other robberies and at his court appearance told the judge he was asleep when asked if he understood his Miranda rights. This guy is out on probation, clearly he didn’t learn a damn thing in prison.

The startling thing about this story for me is the 7-Eleven clerks let him go after beating his ass.

They showed mercy and kindness, yet hours later, this guy is arrested at another convenience store. He had to still be hurting from the beating but he was doing the same thing a few hours later???

The general consensus about this guy getting beaten, is that he deserved it. For once, I’m not the outlier.

Here is a guy who had immediate consequences for his actions and learned nothing. He’s been in prison and learned nothing. So where does that leave us?


I am reminded of my childhood in the Deep South. There were Chain Gangs of prisoners dressed in stripes fixing roads, digging drainage ditches, putting in fences near highways, cleaning up trash, and whatever else the State decided needed doing.

My Father would point at the prisoners as we drove by and say that’s what happens to you if you break the law. You end up chained like an animal doing public work to pay your debt to society.

I asked my Father what a debt to society was.

He then explained that keeping someone in prison cost the state taxpayers money. Feeding them, clothing them, looking after their medical needs, hearing their bullshit in court, all cost the state money. That represents a debt the prisoner owes to society on top of whatever crime they committed and its only fair that they work to pay that back to the taxpayer via public work.

Then he said something I remember very clearly.

He said, “If I ever see you on one of these chain gangs, I’ll be very disappointed, I’ll probably have to pull off the road to cry, I’ll still love you son, but I’ll never be able to forgive you for throwing your life away.”

My Father admitting he’d cry, or even that he could cry?

Now you know why the one LP stolen on a dare had such profound guilt associated with it.

Thinking about it, those Chain Gangs had another purpose. They served as an example to young impressionable children like myself. Seeing these men chained struck fear of breaking the law, or even the rules at school, deep in our hearts. If big strong men could end up like this, we children had no chance. Best obey our parents, the rules, and the laws. They don’t have moonpies or RC in prison, or so my momma says.

The trouble now is that we’ve gone so far into the Wild West, that only gunslinging Marshalls who shoot first and ask questions later can rebalance the scales.

It’s very likely that the Marshalls weren’t nice guys. It’s more likely that they were personally worse than the gangs of criminals they were hunting down.

The famous Marshalls were apex predators taking out the competition. Had they not been paid well, and treated with respect, when they were done with the criminal gangs, they could easily have filled the void and become super criminals. You’ve got to wonder if they didn’t think about it.

Societies are never supposed to cede control to criminals. Which is what California has done, and other states are doing. The apex predators that rise to fight criminals can just as likely become apex criminals.

After all why not? My thinking as an apex predator would be, “Society’s usual checks and balances couldn’t deal with shitty little criminals. I had to take out the trash, I deserve everything the criminals owned, including their business and and income streams. I call it the spoils of war, and no-one can stand against me…”

Mayor Bass had better make being an LA Police Officer a really good deal damn quick. And she better be prepared to look the other way for a few years while officers are brutal in bringing down the criminal element. She also better have an exit plan for officers accused of excessive brutality that includes a nice quiet retirement, not trials or prison.

A Snarky PSA

After the various news appearances by this guy…

Representative Dan Goldman of New York

It’s become obvious that I missed another memo regarding changes to language.

Apparently, the following symbols and terms…

Have become synonymous with…

Here is the poster child for the word, LIAR. His image should be shown as a representative example.

Does this make me a bad person?

I honestly don’t know what the hell is going on at Crazy Pants’ house these days.

Yesterday some dude I’ve seen around was stomping down the street calling the boyfriend of Crazy Pants all kinds of names and then walking back up to better hear the boyfriends response.

Then he’s acting like he wants to fight right there on the street calling the boyfriend less than a man.

If I’d not had the windows open I’ve have ignored the whole mess but since I could hear everything I decided to watch as well. I thought about making popcorn and cracking open a beer even though it was only 9am!

Hey, if they’re going to put on a live show, why the hell shouldn’t I watch?

After another few minutes of grumbling at each other the stranger, who I think of as “Whitey” because of his long white hair, goes back up to Crazy Pant’s property. Where the two males, continue to bitch at each other.

I was thinking, “Come on guys, just fuck already! You’re fighting like you’re married!

After another hour or so, things quiet down.

Around 9pm there’s more yelling then there’s a male voice I’m assuming “Whitey” moaning and saying I’m hurt bad, then he’s almost begging Crazy Pants boyfriend, “Please don’t hurt me more”.

I’m thinking one of two things, 1) They finally decided to punch it out, or 2) They decided to fuck and are into some rough stuff.

I don’t think Crazy Pants boyfriend is particularly hung so it’s not like Whitey was moaning over, or complaining about taking it.

At one point last night someone called for help but not one of the neighbors, myself included, went to look, opened our front doors, or called the cops.

This morning all is quiet, even the fucking 5 Chihuahuas that are yapping all the damn time. I thought I heard Crazy Pants muttering and mumbling earlier, but now she’s quiet.

I found myself thinking, “I hope they fucking kill each other.” Then it occurred to me that there will be one survivor, there is always one survivor. There’s always one roach, or one rat, but one always survives.

Then I thought, “In older times, the neighbors would be within their rights to deal with the survivor too.” In less fire prone areas, the neighbors would burn the house to the ground. That way they’d avoid having to bury the bodies, just stack ‘em in the house and “Woosh”.

Fire purifies everything. It would even burn their names from the neighborhood’s memory.


The only epitaph would be, “They were bad people.

When stuff like this goes through my mind I realize it’s just me being super tired of the constant drama. But I wonder about myself as a person. Does this make me a bad guy too? Does my growing hatred for those people present a danger, and are they dragging me down to their level? Who am I to sit in judgment?

I’ve contented myself, thinking as long as I’m asking these questions I’m probably okay. There is some shred of morality left in me regarding these people.

I found it jarring yesterday because I was hoping the two guys would beat each other to death and I was hoping that Crazy Pants would be hurt badly when she got in the cross fire. What shocked me was that I was perfectly content to watch it, beer in hand and baseball bat within easy reach.

Yeah, I tend to not spend much time in the front yard unless I’ve got something to defend myself with these days. Crazy Pants has been known to wander the neighborhood with large butcher knives, pick up rocks, and as in my case simply punch people without provocation.

Whitey just walked down the street. He’s wearing a backpack, carrying a bottle of water and looked like he was a man on a mission. I didn’t see any visible injuries. I wonder if he had enough and is gone for good? I’ve heard the boyfriend yelling at one or two of the dogs. So there are multiple survivors.

Dang!

Oh well, maybe this weekend they’ll do each other in. I’ve got plenty of popcorn and beer!