Saturday, July 07, 2007

Is your bottle being filled?

Cleveland Plain Dealer writer Regina Brett recently wrote a column on what she termed "the culture of disrespect."

Ironically, it appeared the morning it was reported a Cleveland firefighter, Mr. Hough, killed three people by shooting them. I believe the Brett's "culture of disrespect" and this shooting to be related events.

It’s been said that we’re all one step away from insanity. If alcohol wasn’t involved with Mr. Hough’s behavior I believe he probably has no recollection of events. He just has had his “bottled filled.”

I, too, like Mr. Hough, live with a disrespectful neighbor. There’s no father in the home, only a lazy boyfriend. They leave their trash out front, never bothering to put the cans away like everybody else. When I’ve tried to talk to the mother she’s only been disrespectful to me. As a result, I call the police when there’s problems. Recently one young son was hot rodding on a very, very loud gasoline operated “motorbike” in the back yard. The police were no help. They “couldn’t do anything….it’s there back yard.” I asked him to at least talk to the family ‘cause I can’t. I tried one time talking to the lazy boyfriend. His reply was “We’re moving next year anyway.” Well, they make ME want to move!

Mr. Hough went crazy, true, but he’s been complaining about these neighbors for a long, long time without anything being done. The neighbors should have taken a clue. People need to begin to take clues. It can happen to any of us.

Like many others, I, too, have had to drive around black youngsters who walk in the middle of the street instead of using either sidewalk on the street. I’ d like to yell at them about what they’re doing and why they are not earning anyone’s respect by doing so. But, I drive around them, choosing not to say anything. I don’t judge all blacks by these actions but there’s enough of them earning disrespect and enough of us having it hurled into our faces that a lot of bottles are being filled.

I hope I never see the day when my bottle becomes filled and, like Mr. Hough, I lose it.