I Forgot To Put My Hand Over My Heart During The Pledge of Allegiance

July 16, 2010

Actually, I forgot to put my left turn signal on when making a left hand turn onto Ft. Hamilton Pkwy. I was immediately pulled over by the NYPD. I wasn't sure what I had done at first, after a long, hot day of working at the garden plot and then in the studio. It was 9 pm. I agreed with him that I forgot to use the signal. So he asked me if I knew about the device for signaling. Then he made me turn it on, get out of the car and look at it. Then he made me go back to the car, turn the right signal on and come back to look at it. His eyes blazed at me like Robert Patrick in Terminator 2, except his head was bald and fat. He asked me to give him all the items he asked for at once. Then we sat there for 15 minutes while he and his robot partner sat stone cold in their vehicle. He admonished me and my passenger not to leave the car. When he came back he informed me that he was going to issue me a summons (from what I can tell, $130) and he could explain the three things that could happen "if I would like." I didn't like. SO I said, well I'm going to pay this ticket. "Are you going to let me tell you the three things...." Hell no, I know the schtick. Why do I have to participate in your theatre??! You issue me a summons in lieu of arrest. Your baton was shoved so far up your ass that you just might've arrested me over a missed turn signal! So, summons in hand I am now free to go. I am reading it, not looking into his unblinking eyes. He goes on with his one man play. " If you decide to fight this summons, you will find me in the Coney Island Traffic Court before a judge....the judge will ask me what happened and he will ask you what happened.." Frankus Interuptus! I am going to pay this ticket. (Are we done now) Yes sir, I didn't turn on my signal. I admit that to you. I will pay the ticket, now let me go home to eat dinner. "Are you listening to me?" "Yes," I say "If I decide to fight this summons, I will find us in the Coney Island Traffic Court before a judge..."

My Fucking Lord. Why the humiliation patrol? I know its like this for so many of the citizens of NYC and I am sorry.

A Few Words

March 15, 2009

Saturday I planted the broccoli into their planter. I had extra, so I put some in a couple of perennial pots. I also planted the asian mix, the arugula, and the mesclun mix seeds in all the extra planters I had available. I put 2 inch mesh on top of every planter to keep squirrels from digging. The tomatoes are in the cold-frame, toughening up, getting fuzzy, purplish stems.

So all the early season, cool weather veggies are in the ground.

On another note, I finally saw the News12 Brooklyn story about the man who got tazered outside my window. They have a video where me and my neighbor are interviewed, but you might need some plugin to watch it. I found out from my upstairs neighbor that he was apparently from the methadone clinic down the block that is advertised as a medical office. On the video you can see the man in front of my building and pacing, but surrounded by cops. Then they tazer him. They're not using the word tazer anymore, its like Kleenex for tissues. They're calling it a conducted energy device. Thats a mouth-full. Anyhow, News 12 used some of my posted photos in their story, for whatever its worth.

Fear is Fifteen Cops With Hands on Their Guns

February 20, 2009

As I sit typing a post about some blooming witchhazel, I notice some shouts outside. My desk is by the window, our apartment building isn't insulated, so that outside noise is practically inside noise. I look out the window and I see about 7 police officers looking in my direction. Shouting, spraying mace, toward the landlord's driveway -right outside the window. I hear "put down the mace!" (I think) and then as more officers arrive, I hear "Put down the knife! Its all over!" They're screaming at the guy. I see him, can't tell his age, he's got a baseball cap on (maybe, its all happening so fast). He's just standing there in front of my landlord's pole-setting truck. They're continuing to spray mace. He seems to have a green leaf on his eye, maybe used to wipe the mace, maybe pulled from the english ivy on the neighbor's fence.

Reinforcements come in. Now there's at least 10 cops and one guy with a knife (maybe). Everyone's agitated. More cops are coming on to the scene. They're still yelling, "put it down, its over. Where's the tazer?" More spraying of mace. At this point their hands are resting on their guns. A blonde female officer arrives shouting to the man in the least calm manner, "calm down dude, its okay. Put the knife down, dude. Calm down!" Is she the negotiator?

I have two fears: I am going to play a part in a man getting shot to death by the police of the City of New York. I don't want to be a witness to this, yet I can't call the police! The police are Asian, Black, Hispanic, White, male and female. The man with the knife, a black man. I am aware of this despite my agitation. My second fear -in the rain of bullets my 1st floor apartment will be pierced and I will be hit. I leave my office area and go to the kitchen, 25 feet from the focus of the police. Over-reaction?

I put on shoes and head to the front door. By the time I get out to the stoop, the police are wrestling the man on the ground, trying to get him to give up the knife, I think. There are a lot of police now. A lot. I brought my camera because I feel I should somehow record what I am witnessing and at the same time as I sense the police don't want that. An officer (who happens to be my upstairs neighbor's son!) chases a man with a telephoto lens off my stoop, saying "Its private property, get off!" I feel how the agitation of the moment affects your memory, affects your perception. The camera resists that to some degree. How did this photographer know about this - a radio scanner?

Questions pour in. What if he dies? What has he done? Why are they chasing him? Why won't he drop the knife? Does he have a knife? A gun? He is surrounded, he doesn't have a chance. Is this a last stand? Is he mentally disabled? I have no answers, all I see is a sea of blue. I see the humanity in the police, the lack of clear structure, the rattled officers' attempt to keep procedure. "Where is the sergeant," I hear. It is chaos, but everyone knows who's side their on. It is a strategy of overwhelming force, really overwhelming. One man, 40 police. Most could do nothing but watch. Their discomfort, their agitation, they are on edge -those on the front line. So am I, just a witness, a bystander. To their credit, I never see a drawn gun.

I believe they tazer him. They carry him to the intersection. Cops laugh, those on the sidelines, complain of shit on shoes (welcome!). An officer is aggressive and told to calm down as they hold the revived man down on the hood of the police car. Finally the FDNY EMT arrives, then must have sedated the man, placed him on a stretcher, strapped him in, rolled him off to the ambulance.

What happened here? How did this happen in my front yard?