trendymatt's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It just doesn't make sense Before I get to the meat of my entry, I just want everyone out there to see A Home at the End of the World. I went out after a dinner with coworkers tonight to see the movie a second time with Emily, and was moved even more than when I first saw it over the weekend. I had previously known about the film only for the publicity over the supposed nude scene featuring Colin Farrell that was cut out, but five minutes into the story I had forgotten all about the hype. The movie really spoke to me in a way I still can't quantify with words. And I detest people who get all emotional during a movie and spout off how much it changed them afterwards, but yeah. That's where I am with that movie right now. Alyssa, on the other hand was the opposite of moved by the film after we saw it on Saturday. I see that as retribution for my unenthusiasm after seeing Garden State, but whatever. So, tonight after the movie, Em was taking me over to the parking garage downtown where my car was parked when we came across two cars stopped at the entrance to the garage. One of the girls flagged me down after Em dropped me off, asking if I had a lug wrench. I looked over to see a very flat tire and nobody stopping to help her. It turns out the other car was a friend of hers who was following her on the way home from work who didn't have any tools in her trunk. I brought my car down to street level, took my tools out of the trunk and found that my lug wrench wouldn't fit her car. Now, here we were, on Main Street in Lexington around 11:30 at night, and I was apparently the first person to stop and help since she stopped her car in that spot about 20 minutes earlier - directly across the street from Lexington Police headquarters. I watched at least five cop cars pass by without so much as slowing down, even as her friend got out of her car to flag them down. The police simply weren't stopping. After realizing I was getting nothing done with my lug wrench, I stood by the side of the street to flag down a cop car that was coming off the stop light at Martin Luther King, Jr. Blvd. On my first try, I got a police officer to help us. Was I any more adept at waving like a madman at the side of the street? Did I display some sort of secret code telling the police that their assistance was needed? Nope. Quite simply, I am a white male and they were two black females. The thought still jars me an hour later. I've always secretly been one to be skeptical when somebody "plays the race card." As naive as it makes me sound, I guess I had just figured that by this point in time there really weren't any real, concrete reasons for minorities to be untrusting of the police. And as a middle-class, college-educated white male, I have never witnessed the reason why this mistrust exists. But I saw it tonight, happening ten feet away from me, right in the middle of downtown late at night. All turned out well enough, the police officer who stopped (a woman, by the way) suggested that we search the trunk for the lug wrench again, this time using her flashlight. Sure enough, in the dark recesses of the trunk was the tool and I had the tire changed and the car on the road in 10 minutes. I guess I'm just awestruck with what happened - or didn't happen - before I got there. I have always trusted the idea that if I need help, the police are at the very least a phone call away. And for me, they obviously are. The girl stuck on the side of Main Street tonight pays the same city taxes from her paycheck that I pay from my job. Why couldn't she get equal treatment from those paid by those taxes? Maybe if everybody had to sit at the back of the bus, even for a moment, equality would be more than an idea. It would be the norm. 12:35 am - 09.21.04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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