"Paging MR Rogers": From Citizen Journals 1

JRNL__Neighborhood News
Paging Mr Rogers Citizen Journals 1
Paging Mr. Rogers
Citizen Journal part 1: 08/30/2020
There’s a corner store and gas station in my neighborhood – the nearest shopping
center is 2 miles away. So far, no masks have been required here, as the cashier
counter with 2 registers is elevated, & each have recently installed plexiglass shields.
So despite the higher prices I’ve shopped there during the ongoing Shelter in Place
orders. I’ve lived in the neighborhood almost 10 years now, and shop there 2-3 times
each week. One morning this past week, the owner was behind the counter and
informed me that masks were required “from now on” or I would be “turned in” because
someone turned HIM in for not requiring masks. He didn’t have the name of the official
who inspected nor the neighbor who reported him for inspection he replied when asked.
The owner is usually on site working most mornings, two cashiers work alone in the
afternoons. I was in yesterday afternoon, and with my mask hanging from one ear we
chatted as usual joking about the new Edict from the shop owner and commenting on
the mask-analogy of trying to keep mosquitos out of the yard by installing a chain-link
fence. I turned to leave and passed a young dark-skinned boy wearing a “proper” mask
with “Black Lives Matter” printed in white on black material, a surprise to me in this ever-
changing suburban neighborhood. I had to consciously stop the sudden involuntary
running news tapes in my head about “riots coming to a neighborhood near you –
Trumps fault!” and such.
In the parking lot I got into my car and he was at the car next to mine, speaking to
two other youngsters wearing the same masks, the rest of the small storefront parking
spaces were empty. As I started my engine, the other two turned off theirs and then got
out of the car, and the three went back inside. I drove the mile home, chanting their
plate number aloud to burnish it into my photographic but otherwise flawed memory,
and once home wrote their license plate number on the inside of my useless mask. I
tucked it into a desk drawer but could not shake the significance, in MY little tiny life, of
the days most unusual events.
This is what life out here in the burbs is like now. I’m up at 1 in the morning logging
yesterday’s foray into shut-down life, because I could/did not bring myself to look up the
news, the police blog, the fate of the little store, nor to drive back and find out if anything
happened to the cashiers after I left. Find out whether there was a robbery or a murder
there yesterday afternoon. I also understand that these days I can’t expect to learn such
a thing from any media reports and the truth is probably that if there was a report I
would rather not know. I just went about my day, put the BLM conditioning aside, and
went to bed. I have the license plate number, but I did not make the call to police
because I have no knowledge of the situation in My Own Town regarding police
response and intervention to such an alarmingly lopsided pre-crime witness report from
the likes of me. Instead, I am up at 1AM fighting a belief I personally have done
something wrong, or failed to do something to help my community.
At length and after much self-bashing I finally realize what I have done for my
community, my neighbors, my fellow man: I have made a choice to arm myself with
information, without escalating already unnatural tension. I have given my neighbors
the benefit of the doubt that they were just stopping by the store as I was. I have given
my cashier acquaintances an empowering belief in their own ability, and that of their
boss, to keep themselves safe from harm without undue interference or alarmism from
me personally.
I also have empowered the police department that my taxes pay for to protect my town.
After all, dealing with crime is their job, not mine. Thus despite my own fear and self-
doubt, it is most likely that among various choices I have done the right thing about it all.
Record facts, be aware, don’t personally impose my perspective, or my fear, or escalate
by way of my own personal trepidation. Deal with the Inner Fears in the silence of a
sleepless night, do not validate the externally programmed Irrational Stimuli that
surrounds and separates American Citizens these days.
I’ll keep the license plate number. IF it comes across my intellectual radar that there
are law-abiding authorities who seek information about yesterday, I’ll phone it in. In the
same way the airline tells you in an emergency to don your own oxygen first before
trying to render aide to others, including your own children, I intend to keep myself safe
and secure by making decisions which help ensure I remain Free and Available should
the need to protect my family by myself suddenly occur in these traumatic times.
What I have learned is that “doing nothing” isn’t really not doing anything after all. It is
as much a conscious decision as anything else. Once/after a decision is made, any
consequential emotion around it becomes irrelevant really. That hoarding information for
later if necessary is actually survival tactic and not a character flaw. There’s the
balance, there’s the peace, there’s my part in keeping America safe for my fellow
Citizens and so I am armed with the confidence of Will and self-determination to walk
thru another New Day coming, biding my time until, like everyone else I know, I can
finally Freely Vote In America.
Thank you for listening. Reading, even~

JRNL__Neighborhood News
Paging Mr Rogers Citizen Journals 1

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JRNL__Neighborhood News

Paging Mr Rogers Citizen Journals 1

Paging Mr. Rogers

Citizen Journal part 1: 08/30/2020

Thank you for listening. Reading, even~

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