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Burnett's Urban Etiquette

Thursday, January 25, 2007

I'm back, baby!

Sorry, that was just me channeling Frank Costanza.

Mrs B. is home resting now. She's in pain, but is otherwise healthy and has good (doctor-issued) drugs. Meanwhile, I'm learning to be a nurse. Ladies, I have taken your suggestions under advisement and will be picking up the ice cream when I make my first grocery run.

Anyway, glad to be back and to offer a new post.

My brain is still a little scrambled, so I'll just share a few random thoughts.
  • Humility is a lost emotion. A graying sex offender moved into the neighborhood recently, and cops - as is their civic and legal duty - have been alerting residents. The guy may no longer be a threat. But his neighbors should still know about his history. One officer with whom I've built a friendly acquaintanceship says that when he stopped by the guy's house to "welcome" him to the neighborhood, the offender copped attitude. He blustered defiantly and told the officer that anyone who crossed him or messed with him would get dealt with. It seems as though it never occurred to this man to say to the cop "I did what I did. And I served my time, but I completely understand my neighbors' concerns. I brought it on myself. That was in the past. And I hope they'll let me be. But if they make an issue of my being here, I'll let you guys (the police) handle it." I know it's wishful thinking. He'll never do that. It's a sign of the times. Being humble is hard enough when you're just Average Joe, but when you've been proven wrong it shouldn't be quite as hard to lose the attitude.
  • In keeping with my New Year's resolutions I thanked a caller to the newspaper who didn't like something in an article I wrote a few months ago. His complaint wasn't about the facts of my article. He just didn't like it. And his comments bordered on being annoyingly personal. When I first got into this business after college I had a really tough time biting my tongue when people made their complaints personal - like when a reader would call and insult my mother, or something, or when another reader assumed by my name that I was white and would call me about a homicide story I'd written and go on a rant about how "we" should let all those black people just kill each other off. I actually got scolded by my very first editor for responding to a couple of callers with a few barbs of my own. I was young and stupid. And I wanted every reader to like me and to enjoy every article I wrote. In recent years, it's rolled off my back a little easier. Today I thanked the guy for taking the time to read my story, even if he didn't like everything he read. He was so taken aback he said he was gonna keep reading the paper regularly. Reverse psychology. It works.
  • I have a buddy from back home who recently entered his 12th year of trying to become a star music producer. It hasn't worked. He gripes about not making it big time yet. I feel his pain. He's put in a lot of hours. Maybe it's in the cards. Maybe not. But how long should he sacrifice quality of life to pursue his "creative" dream? Unless he gets a hint soon that he's on the verge of a big break, I'm thinking that 9-to-5 is gonna start looking more and more attractive. The ability to upgrade from basic cable and get the Meat Lover's instead of the single topping should not be underrated.

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