show and tell

03-03-00

Did I say something about quitting my job? Oh yeah. That's right. Did anyone really think I was going to quit my job? Raise your hands. That's right.

The logistics of finding a suitable new job, giving notice at this one, doing the band tour, the vacation, and the recording sessions were overwhelming. I'm sticking with Dogland until things settle down a little. Know what's sucky? The reason I wanted to quit before my vacation was so I wouldn't have to ask Aida for the extra time off. Today I flat out told her, and she was happy for me. Seriously. She offered to let me have the day off for the recording, even though I could go in early and get out in plenty of time. Now I feel shitty.

We did three surgeries today before I left to teach. Sherrie's taking this weekend off and five days before I go out of town, to make up for having to cover my shit while I'm gone. I can't really complain, although nobody told me that I'd be helping with surgeries today. As usual, Dr. Figaro got all worked up about politics and spewed his libertarian beliefs all over the place. He's anti-gun control, thinks all income, property and sales taxes should be abolished and he thinks all schools should be privatized. If I haven't stated before, I err on the liberal side of things, and my views are completely the opposite of the doctor's, most of the time. I find him fascinating. I know that half the things he dreams about will never happen, so it's fun for me to get inside the brain of a politically insane person for a while.

Today was just plain weird, though. He was talking about that first grader in Mt. Morris Township who shot and killed a girl in his classroom. The doctor was disgusted that the six-year-old will not be charged with a crime. I pointed out that the kid's "uncle," who lives with the single-parent family, is being charged for leaving the (stolen) gun out on the coffee table where the kid could steal it. Of course, Dr. F got a bug up his ass because I thought the gun-owner should be charged with negligence "just for owning a gun." He told me he thinks the kid should be shot. Yup. Put him out of his depraved little misery, save the taxpayers having to pay for his lifelong rehabilitation, save the lives of the people he'll kill a few years from now, AND set an example for everyone else! A firing squad for a six-year-old boy! I had to laugh out loud. What the hell else can you do, when you hear crap like that?

My own feelings on the Mt. Morris kid are jumbled. A few weeks ago John and I were listing the states where school shootings have occurred. I know, it's a morbid, desensitized road trip game, and we should be ashamed. As we were naming states, I mentioned that Michigan hadn't made it yet. Something in me knew it was about time. Michigan is one of the Fab Four of National Rifle Association states, with big gun lobbyists and lots of backwoodsy-hunter types who ain't gettin' ridda them guns fer no hippie tree-huggin' lib'rals. Michigan is also loaded with rural areas and, how should I say? minimally educated masses. And I went to school in Michigan—there are distinct separations between the rural kids and the urban kids; the bussers and the Daddy-drove-me's. I was a walker, myself.

I never uttered my thoughts aloud, but I could feel Michigan's schoolkids bracing themselves. Gang problems have sprouted in my own high school, two hours south of Detroit. Kids in the rural junior high where I taught last winter were suspended and disciplined for talking about guns. Nobody thought it would be a first-grader who pulled the first trigger.

I wondered where it would happen. I lucked out—I don't know a soul from Mt. Morris, MI. I've never been to Mt. Morris and I don't know anyone there, and I had to look at a map in order to be sure of where it's located. I do know it's somewhere north of Flint, which is ghetto central. It's unusual that I have no connections, not even a picture of the town in my mind; I've driven all over Michigan's lower peninsula, and I've been to hundreds of camps/honor bands/college alumni functions/sporting events and I've made thousands of acquaintances, most of whom I remember. I'm that way with names and places. But I don't have a thing to associate with Mt. Morris in my mind. I feel detached, and fortunate. So I'll add Michigan to the bottom of my car game list and move on quietly, for now.