Sunday, April 21, 2013
Once released in my citrus "grove," I'm 90 percent sure these bugs will wing it out of my yard to greener pastures. According to the internet, that's what I should expect. And I trust the internet. Thanks to the internet, I fixed my faucet and can boil an egg.
Thanks to the internet, I'm also 90 percent sure the younger brother helped orchestrate the horrific event this past week.
I've got an unlikely scenario:
Say you had an older brother or friend; a brother or friend you trusted, and though he could be an asshole to others, he'd never been an asshole to you. What if this older brother said, "We're going to meet Jamie, Jack, and some others at the Boston Marathon, and we're taking a couple of pots of food; I've got the pots packed in rucksacks and you need to carry one."
And then, once you get close to the finish line, and the friends aren't there, the brother says, "These bags are damned heavy and we can't see anything. Drop them here, and let's go get a better view."
And, by the way, your brother says, that baseball cap looks stupid when you turn it backwards. It doesn't even keep the sun out. But you're your own man, and keep the cap slung backwards, exposing your face.
You're standing somewhere down the line, and the bombs go off, and you forget about everything -- that the friends never came, that you carried a backpack.
You're shaken by the event, of course. And tweet "No love here," afterwards. But you're 19, and resilient, and head to a party later that evening. At any age, but especially at a young age, when the horrific happens, one heads for the ordinary, for something familiar.
You join your friends, and the whole internet is ablaze with faces of possible suspects. Is it him? Her? Everyone's guessing. And suddenly, you see your face.
I'm not sure how the rest plays out. Maybe the brother tells him the truth, or says the whole city is gunning for them. Their only chance is to take it on the lam. The kid is 19, and has no family except the brother, and he doesn't want to die.
As I said, it's an unlikely scenario.
If the younger brother was an accomplice in the Boston horror, we'll learn the facts; he's not going anywhere. Until then, I won't let the internet -- my egg-boiling and faucet-fixing resource, nor the panting immediacy of the global media, be judge and jury.
Labels: Thoughts on Boston Marathon