Thursday, June 18, 2020

Police Will Leave You Alone If You Don't Do Illegal Stuff

I recently encountered a meme on Facebook that stated "Has anyone mentioned that Police Will Leave You Alone If You Don't Do Illegal Stuff???"  The meme has surfaced as part of the current national debate about several police murders of black men in recent months, and posted by someone with very close ties to police departments and police officers.  A white person.  It caused me to think about what the meme actually means.

The first thing it means is that the poster still doesn't understand the history in this country of how police have been used to stifle dissent and block protest against perceived injustice.  For hundreds of years, police were used to recapture escaped slaves, break up union organizing efforts, and intimidate anyone who may be thinking about protest or political action.   Adding to these numbers, the use of military, including militias and national guard troops, was also used frequently.  Our first President, the "Father of our Country," was moved to use troops to put down a rebellion among farmers who objected to a federal excise tax on whiskey.  (click here for more) The ink was barely dry on the Constitution when the Federal government determined that armed force was needed to enforce the authority of that government.  It is naive to believe that there were never excesses on the part of police in their day to day activities.  It's willful ignorance to believe that such excess was unusual or not by design.

The next thing about the meme is that the people who believe it are people who have been fortunate enough to never had a negative encounter with police officers.  This is a common social issue these days; people who don't personally know someone who contracted or died from the Novel Coronavirus sometimes don't believe it exists.  People who don't personally know someone who was the victim of racism may not believe that racism, including institutional racism, exists.  There are other examples, but I'm hoping these suffice.  The inability to believe something exists because one hasn't had personal experience with that thing could be the subject of another blog post, but not today.

Here's why I don't believe in the truth of this meme.  Back in the day, when I was a college student, I drove an old Chevy Corvair which was plastered with Eugene McCarthy "flower stickers."  They were emblematic of his Presidential campaign for the 1968 Democratic nomination and he attracted a lot of student supporters and volunteers.  Many of us had beards and long hair; I certainly did.  I don't remember when exactly the incident I'm recounting occurred, but it was probably the summer of 1968.  I had been at a bar in Poughkeepsie, NY that evening, which featured a banjo band, beer, and peanuts everywhere.  I was driving home alone to Newburgh, NY, (about 20 miles) and had a bag of peanuts in a brown paper bag sitting in the middle of the back seat.  Some of you may see where this is headed.



Somewhere between Poughkeepsie and Newburgh, I was pulled over by police.  I don't recall if they were State Troopers or local officers, but it doesn't really matter.  I was questioned by one cop who stood outside the driver side window, and he asked what was in the paper bag on the back seat.  I remember responding "peanuts," which must have been disappointing to the cop.  As I responded to the one policeman, another cop opened the passenger door and sat down in the passenger seat.  So here I am, a young college student, with a beard and long hair, driving a car plastered with McCarthy flowers, being questioned by one cop while another one starts going through the glove compartment.  I had no idea what to do or say, so I kept my answers short.  The cop inside the car, eventually discovered a Boy Scout sheath knife in the glove box, took it out, and asked "what's this?"  I replied "a sheath knife."  He asked "what's it for?"  To this day, I have no clue what the cop expected me to say ("stabbing people?"), but I think I said, "nothing." After a few moments, the cop inside the car put the sheath knife back in the glove box, the cop outside my window didn't give me any sort of ticket (speeding, tail-light out, license issue, speeding) and I was allowed to leave.  I almost immediately contacted the ACLU and described what happened.  I was told that the stop and search was illegal, but that there was not much to be done about it in practical terms.

So here I am, 50+ years later, now an old, white man, and what I am left with is an understanding that no, not doing anything illegal does not necessarily lead to cops 'leaving you alone.'  My example is not meant to be the equivalent of being beaten or killed because of my race.  I assure you I am not making that claim.  It is intended to demonstrate that each of us may have some experience in our life that if examined, may provide insight into the lives other people lead.  My insight: here I was a white college kid who had a frightening encounter with police officers, for no apparent reason other than I had long hair and McCarthy stickers on my car, but eventually, I was sent on my way.  It was nothing compared to what black Americans faced all the time.  Nothing.

That insight can lead to EMPATHY, something that is in very short supply these days.  That empathy may lead you to a place where you begin to understand someone else's life experience, including pervasive racial discrimination, and how racism is baked into this nation, despite all our songs and images telling us we're all equal and free.  Because until you do gain this insight, you are doomed to be on the defensive, always feeling threatened by the "other," and seeing no way to get past the fear.  And if you can't get past the fear, you can't make an intelligent decision on how to be part of the solution.  

It makes me sad that despite all the years that have passed, the incident that happened to me is still nothing compared to what my black neighbors continue to face.

Thursday, January 24, 2019

Thanks For The Incompatible Photo Format, Apple

So, having a new grand-baby on the scene, I just discovered that newer iPhones (basically iPhone 7 and newer as well as newer iPads and other iOS devices) with iOS 11 or newer, save photos by default in a new format which takes up less space (.HEIC) but are not readable outside the iOS and Mac universe.  It only happens with BOTH a newer device PLUS the newer iOS version.

Actually, even my Mac with Sierra isn’t capable of reading these files.  Windows 10 is allegedly set for an update at some time to make HEIC images readable on Windows.

The new format, while saving some storage space, makes sharing photos problematic outside the iOS universe.  There are software converters available, which is what I had to do the other night to make the files on Google Drive readable by non-iOS users (like Windows or Android phone users).

I don’t entirely understand the situation but it was an unexpected complication.  I guess the last time I tried to share pictures was on my iPhone 6S.

According to Apple, "when you share media using other methods, such as AirDrop, Messages, or email, it's shared in a more compatible format, such as JPEG or H.264."  However, I've found this doesn't always happen.

You can change the settings on your iPhone to revert to saving photos in the familiar and easily shareable JPG format.  To do so:

Go to the phone's Settings
Scroll down to Camera
Select Formats
Select "Most Compatible"

NOTE: If your phone doesn't have the "Format" option, you don't have a compatible device or iOS 11 or newer.

There is another setting on the iOS device you may want to change.  Under Settings-Photos-Transfer to MAC or PC, you can select "Automatic" to make sure you share photos and videos in a "compatible format."

Apple's help page on this subject is at https://goo.gl/PKvhfU

To convert .HEIC images you already have, you can use one of the free converter apps.  I used imazing.com's program to convert files on Google Drive to JPG.  https://imazing.com/

Wednesday, February 5, 2014

He's Really A Lovely Dog

So we adopted a rescued Golden Retriever at the end of last summer. Yes, we had no idea there were Golden Retrievers needing to be rescued, but there are, sadly.  At any rate, we waited 6 months to be matched to a dog the right age, temperament, and such, and the wait was well worth it.  Guinness is a 3 year old pooch who fit right into our family.


Mr. G
His foster family told us he was extremely well-behaved and appeared to have had some training in his previous life.  He was found as a stray in Chicago and they said he never barked.   He barked at me within two days of moving in.  That was pretty much how things went: we welcomed him and he picked up a number of behaviors he hadn't exhibited before.  None of them were big problems.  He barked at me when I wasn't picking up on his silent cues to help him retrieve a tennis ball under the couch and he even developed a low growl when he needed to go outside and no one was listening.  All good.

We've always had Goldens (Guinness is our fourth) and they are a wonderful breed.  They're excellent with children, smart, easily trained, and always ready to play.  One of the somewhat peculiar traits we quickly noticed Guinness brought us was that he can go to sleep at the drop of a hat anywhere.  If he's outside and done playing, he'll just lie down (on grass, the deck, or a snowdrift) and go to sleep. If there's nothing going on in the house at the moment, time for some shut-eye.  He matches our life-style perfectly.

Anyway, one of those strange traits that he began to display after he moved in, is he is absolutely fascinated by cats.  All my kids have one or more cats in their homes (in addition to dogs) and Guinness is relentless in his pursuit of felines.  He chases them and tries to figure out how he can get beyond baby-gates set up to provide cat safe-havens.  He hasn't been deterred by hissing, claws, or feline growling.  Nothing distracts him from his mission.  This dog is absolutely gentle with babies, toddlers, and older humans, but if there's a cat in the area, he is relentless.

One of my daughters recently observed him totally focused at the door (with a baby-gate) to a bedroom housing a couple of cats, even when the door was closed.  She commented that maybe we should name him Alf, after the much-beloved alien in the TV series (1986-1990) who thought cats were delicious and never understood why humans kept them as pets.  Alf was quoted once as saying "The only good cat is a stir-fried cat."  On another occasion, Alf asked the mother of the house "Yo Kate, where do you keep the casserole dishes? (Why?) The cat won't fit in the toaster."  Suffice it to say, Alf loved cats, but not the way most humans love cats.  

Our Goldens have always had numerous nicknames; they don't recognize them as names, per se, but they never seemed to mind.  For Goldens, any attention is better than being ignored.  For example, we've had an Indian name ("In The Way") for use pretty much all the time and a Jewish name ("Moe Ros" [long "O"]) for when he seems sad.  So we are now adding "Alf" to the list of authorized nicknames for Guinness. 

I'll end with another quotation from the TV show (Lucky was the Tanners' cat):
(Lucky has died and the Tanners are having a funeral for him.)
ALF : I'm reminded of a prayer he used to recite every night before going to bed : "And if I die before I wake, chicken-fry me like a steak."
ALF : Where I'm from, this is ludicrous! It's like having a funeral for a hamburger!
But he's really a lovely dog!

Monday, September 9, 2013

Caveat Emptor And Watch That Yogurt

OK, so this is about Greek Yogurt,  but it's mostly about how American consumers have to be awake all the damn time.

I went to the grocery store today and on my list was yogurt.  The kind we normally get, Chobani, wasn't on sale according to the store advertisement, so I was going to pick up some Oikos, which is made by Dannon.  

So I was about to pick up the Oikos containers, which were on sale, when I noticed that they seemed kind of small.   Upon checking, I noted that they were 5.3 ounce containers, while the Chobani containers were 6 ounces.   Some quick arithmetic told me that the .7 ounce difference amounted to seven ounces on 10 containers.   Which is more than a full container difference.   So, buying the Chobani product, which actually was on sale at a $1 per container, was a hugely better deal at essentially the same price and gave me an additional container of yogurt.

You have to keep your eyes open all the time, because corporations are always on the prowl for a way to increase their profit at our expense.  Caveat Emptor indeed.