The Tyre Nichols Killing: Where Should the Conversation Start?

By now, most of America is familiar with the story of the five Memphis policemen that beat to death Tyre Nichols, a 29-year-old man who had been pulled over on Jan. 7 for “reckless driving.”

When I saw the initial reports, I thought, “Oh, boy. Is this another BLM moment? White cops brutalizing unarmed Black men?” But then the photos were released. All five of the accused police were Black.

What to make of it?

I had a good idea of what the polarized, political response would be. The BLM contingent would see it as an effect of structural racism. It doesn’t matter that the cops were Black. They were acting as they’d been conditioned to act. The anti-BLM contingent would point out that this is just another example of Black-on-Black crime.

These arguments are already being voiced loudly in the media. That’s too bad, because I was hoping it would be seen, by both Blacks and Whites, as I saw it. As an example of police brutality, which has been a serious problem in the US for as long as there have been police. A problem that will never be resolved so long as we examine it as a symptom of race.

I asked Sam, an ex-police (and Black) training partner, if he thought this was a hate crime caused by structural or systemic racism.

“It’s not about racism,” he said.

“Then what?” I asked.

“The root problem is cultural,” he said. “Police culture. It’s about isolation, fear, intimidation, and tribalism.”

I nodded.

“It starts at the top,” he said, “with the old guys. And it is handed down, as a cultural norm, to each new class of cadets. It’s invisible. But it’s powerful.”

“Let me ask you this,” I said, “if Nichols were White, do you think this would have happened to him?”

“I’d say the chances would be less. For sure. But in this case, what you have is five Black cops beating a young, unarmed Black man to death. I don’t believe for a minute that they aimed to kill him. They couldn’t have been that stupid.”

“So, what did they mean to do?”

“Exactly what they did. Beat someone who they felt needed a beating.”

“What do you mean?”

“How do I put this? Yes, I think if this kid were White, they might have thought twice about beating him so badly. And you can call that White privilege. But that doesn’t mean the core problem is racism, that Whites are less likely to take a beating than Blacks. If the victim were a Black woman or a Black senior, they would have been at less risk, probably much less risk, than a young Black man. Or even a young White man. What I’m saying is that the core problem here is that these guys felt they had the moral right to beat up someone, anyone, for any reason. That is an educational problem, a cultural problem. The problem is police culture. That’s what needs to change.”

On Saturday, We Hosted a Wedding at Paradise Palms… 

It was for CF, a nephew, and his bride. There were about 150 people in attendance. It was held in a section of the gardens designed to be a venue for outdoor events like this.

This was the second wedding held at Paradise Palms. The first one was five years ago for Number Two Son and his bride. Their wedding was a great success. But there was more pressure on us to see CF’s succeed because it was a trial run for the kind of weddings we hope to have there.

There were all sorts of things that could have gone wrong. And some of them did. But we were prepared for most of them, and so were able to fix the problems before any of the guests even noticed them. We were also able to observe the dynamics of the wedding plan, the subcontractors, and the guests, which was invaluable in making adjustments here and there to ensure better performance in the future.

We’ve been told by several of South Florida’s top wedding planners that we should be able to book as many weddings as we want at a charge of $10,000 a day. That was a nice thought when I first heard it. Now it seems like a genuine possibility.

Let’s Talk About Guns and Politics and Zombies 

SC and I were talking about guns. He wanted me to accompany him to a shooting range here in Delray Beach so I could try my hand at various handguns and rifles.

I gave him my spiel…

Many years ago, I saw a list of all the bad things that can happen when people have guns. At the top was having your gun stolen from your bedside table while you slept. That was followed by all sorts of missteps and tragedies – from shooting your foot off to the accidental death of your child.

“With my bad luck and general clumsiness,” I said, “I don’t like the prospects.”

“Take a class in gun safety,” SC told me.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “And anyway, as I understand it, the second amendment was not designed to keep me safe from robberies, but from government tyranny.”

“Biden used that logic to argue for gun control,” SC said. (I knew what he meant. Biden had recently made fun of second amendment defenders, saying something like, “For those ‘brave’ right-wing Americans who say that it’s all about keeping America independent and safe, if you want to fight against the country, you need an F-15. You need something more than a gun.”)

“Well,” I said, “If I was ever going to buy a gun, it wouldn’t be a handgun or a semiautomatic. I want a full-on machine gun.”

He looked surprised. “Why is that?”

“Because the only time I can imagine needing one would be if my house was being attacked by zombies.”

He smiled.

“I’m serious,” I said. “You know how the zombies are these days. They’re not like the old ones, lurching at you, clumsily, one at a time. Today, they move quicker and they come in droves. There’s no way you can protect yourself without a military grade automatic weapon.”

He smiled again.

Later that day, he sent me this link to a great article about how Hollywood has expanded our knowledge of how to kill zombies.

Click here to prepare yourself for the zombie apocalypse!

My First “Paycheck” Job

PP and I were reminiscing about some of the jobs we had in high school. This somehow led to a discussion of “How come kids don’t work hard today?”

It got me thinking about my first job. Not the paper route I had when I was eight or the lawn mowing and attic cleaning I did for extra bucks. I was thinking about my first real job. My first timeclock-punching, paycheck-receiving, tax-withholding job.

It was 1962. I was 12 years old, in 6th grade at St. Agnes grammar school. I had a weekend job at the Rockville Center Car Wash. I worked eight hours on Saturday and Sunday, from 8:30 a.m. to 5:00 p.m., with a half-hour for lunch.

I worked in tandem with Brian, a classmate of mine. Our job was to wash and dry the interior windows of every car that went through the automatic carwash machine. At full speed, it spit out a car every 60 or 80 seconds. And on weekends, the place was so busy that they never stopped coming. “It’s a “hustle job,” Joe, the cigar-chomping manager had warned us when we applied for the job. And he was right. We had to jump in the car (I took the front; Brian took the back), spray fluid on the glass, and wipe it clean. In a typical day, we covered 240 cars.

You might wonder: Why did Joe hire 12-year-olds for such a demanding job? The reason was simple: We were small enough and fast enough to jump in and out of the cars all day long.

And what were we paid for hustling non-stop eight hours a day? Our wages were $1.25 an hour. That was $10 a day; $20 for the weekend. And we felt very lucky to have such a grown-up job.

Is This Crazy? Or Am I?

Language Police “Wokerize” Another Phrase!

In January, following the lead of the University of Southern California’s School of Social Work, Michigan’s Dept. of Health and Human Services banned the use of the phrase “field worker.”

A field worker is usually defined today as someone who works outside of the office and travels to different locations. It is less frequently but still used to define a farm laborer. And it’s being banned because of “concerns” that using words like “going into the field” or “doing field work” may have racist connotations.

(I’m not making that up!)

I wonder how that’s going to work?

Let’s see. In the future…

* Speakers will no longer “field” questions from an audience, but “harvest” them.

* Baseball will be played on “locations of grass with strips of dirt.”

* Architecture and biology will no longer be “fields” of study, but just plain “subjects of study.” No, wait. That’s not right! Due to the possibility that post-colonialized people may be offended by “subjects of study,” they will be “thingies you can study.”

Making a Stranger’s Day

Click here for a video clip about a passenger helping out an Uber driver in trouble. When I watched it, it reminded me of a similar experience I had several years ago.

Here’s my story…

I was getting a haircut in NYC. Through the plate-glass window of the barbershop, I could see a young Black guy pleading with a pair of cops. My barber followed my gaze.

“That’s the young man that cleans all the storefront windows in this area,” he said. “A nice kid. He works hard.”

“I’ll be right back,” I said.

I went outside to see what was going on. A small crowd had gathered, taking in the scene. “I think they’re impounding his car,” one of them told me.

“For what?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Sounds like he didn’t pay a bunch of tickets.”

The kid looked frantic. He was pacing back and forth. “I need my car for my work,” he said. “Please! I’m going to pay those tickets.”

“You got the money?” one of the cops asked.

“No. But I will get it,” he said. “Just don’t take the car.”

The cop began writing him up, and his partner walked back to the squad car. I went over to him and asked if they would let the kid go if I paid his tickets. He looked at me as if he thought I was crazy.

“I’m serious,” I said.

He looked through his paperwork. The total is X,” he said. X was a lot of money. More than I expected. But I happened to have almost exactly that in my pocket, because I had just come from the bank.

He pulled his partner aside, spoke to him for a few minutes, then came back to me.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” he asked.

“I am,” I said.

He motioned for me to follow him, and we quietly made the transaction behind his car. I thought about asking for a receipt but decided against it. He walked back to his partner and whispered something to him. Then he said something to the kid, and the kid started screaming and jumping up and down. “I knew it!” he shouted. “There is a god! There is a god!”

He searched the faces in the crowd to see if he could figure out who to thank. But I was already halfway down the street. I don’t believe in a god, but that made my day.

Nicaragua? Yes, Nicaragua! 

On Tuesday, I told you about the results of a Gallup poll that listed Nicaragua as the “No. 1 country where people say they are ‘always’ or ‘almost always’ at peace.”

Nicaragua? Surprising? At first, yes. I was surprised. For the reasons I mentioned on Tuesday. But when I thought about the hundreds of Nicaraguan people I’ve lived with and worked with over the past 25+ years, I realized that I shouldn’t have been.

Nicaraguans are, by far, happier than Americans or Europeans or Middle Easterners or people in many of the Asian countries I know. The only people I’ve known that I’d say were happier than Nicaraguans were the Chadian people when I lived and worked there. And Chad, at that time, was one of the five poorest countries in the world.

You are no doubt familiar with the commonly quoted research on the correlation between wealth and happiness. It showed that once people have enough money to pay for their basic needs, the acquisition of more money does not directly affect their level of happiness. We usually understand “basic needs” to mean food and shelter, as well as plumbing, electricity, transportation, and so on. But that’s only true for wealthy countries. In poor countries, the basics truly are basic. A wooden shack and a well somewhere nearby is enough to make millions and millions of people happy with their lives.

And if this is true, why do we believe that (a) being poor is always and bad thing, and (b) helping poor people get richer is always a good thing?

What Is the Country Whose Citizens Are the Most Content?

A friend sent a report on a Gallup poll about the countries that have the happiest people. Well, that’s not precisely right. It wasn’t about happiness. It was about contentment.

Many such surveys are based on objective criteria like per capita income, life expectancy, health data, and more. I always ignored them, preferring to know the subjective responses – how people feel. That’s the way this one was designed. It employed questions like “Are you at peace with yourself (a) all of the time, (b) some of the time, (c) none of the time.”

Anyway… guess which country came out on top?

The USA? Canada? France? Switzerland? Sweden?

No!

Believe it or not, it was the country that hosts the Ford family’s second home: Nicaragua!

Is that crazy? Nicaragua is usually ranked as the poorest country in Latin America and one of the 50 poorest countries in the world. It is also a country that has survived a US-supported dictatorship, a communist revolution, a leftist dictatorship, a major earthquake, constant natural disasters, and more.

You can read about it here.

(On Friday, I’ll tell you why I think Nica came out on top.)

My Statin Story Continues…

In the Friday issue, I wrote about the chronic fatigue and bouts of brain fog I’ve been experiencing since I began taking statins. I met with Dr. B to talk about my concerns. He didn’t seem surprised. He wrote me a script for a different brand. “This one might work better,” he said.

“What if it doesn’t?” I asked.

“If it doesn’t, I can prescribe something else. It’s not a statin. You take it every two weeks by injection. It works as well as – or better than – statins, but with zero side effects.”

“So, why not just start me on that?”

“Well, it’s very expensive. Insurance won’t cover it until you’ve tried two statins. And statins do work about 50% of the time.”

“Why haven’t I ever heard of it?”

He shrugged. “Actually, I take it myself.”

“You what? You take it yourself!”

I looked at him like I wanted to say… well, you know what I wanted to say!

So, now I’m doing more research, including following up on all sorts of tips and suggestions I’ve been receiving from readers.

Of all the emails I received, the one from KI was the most immediately helpful. She said that she was “surprised” I hadn’t run into the work that had been done by Maryanne Demasi, a scientist/journalist that has been focused on statin drugs for several years.

Do yourself a favor. Watch any videos you can find that Demasi has done about statins. (Click here for one of them.) You will be impressed by her seriousness, her control of the facts, and her dispassionate way of collecting and presenting them.

One of the many things that Demasi did to advance the scientific inquiry was review the studies that compared the conditions and fatality rates of people that had been prescribed statin drugs (for abnormally high total cholesterol counts) with those that didn’t take them. What she discovered – and it was crystal clear from the evidence – was that statins did not increase lifespan. (Click here to read a recent article by Demasi on her analysis of the data.)

I’m going to keep reading everything I can find about statins. But from everything I’ve learned so far, I don’t believe that taking them will help me live longer. Nor do I believe it will do anything significant for improving my health. The only discernable benefit may be that it will dramatically bring down my overall cholesterol levels.

And since I also think – no, since I know for certain – that the fatigue I’ve been experiencing since I started on statins has reduced my productivity by 30% – from about 18 hours to 12 on weekdays and from about nine hours to six on weekends – I’m going to try out those injections Dr. B mentioned. And if they have the same negative effect on my energy and clarity of mind as the statin, I’m going “bare” starting next month.

I’ll keep you posted!

Why Am I Falling Behind?

Since my stroke in September, I’ve been losing ground on my to-do list. One example: I have three email inboxes. A red-flagged one that I try to answer within 24 hours. An orange-flagged one that I try to answer within seven days. And a yellow-flagged one that I try to answer within 30 days. I am grievously behind on all of them. My red inbox now holds 80 to 90 items, instead of the 15 to 20 I was always able to manage. My orange inbox, which used to hold 60 to 70 items, now has more than 10 times that number.

What the heck is going on?

I was worried that my brain was slowing down. That it was taking longer for me to complete tasks. But it didn’t feel like that was true. So I looked at my log and my journal, and realized that I’ve been sleeping or napping an extra three hours a day. That’s a better reason for my lack of productivity than a retarding brain, but it’s not comforting.

I asked my doctors about it, and they seemed to think that sleeping more could be a natural response to the “trauma” of the stroke and surgery. But that didn’t feel right either.

I told one of my trainers about it, and he asked me if I had been taking any new medications. “I don’t think so,” I said. But then I remembered. I was taking a statin. He looked up the research on statins and, sure enough, he found that one of the big side effects is chronic and/or acute fatigue.

Now that felt right to me. For the past decade or so, I’d resisted taking statins to reduce my overall cholesterol levels because I was aware that they produce a variety of unwelcome side effects. And because – although they are very good at lowering cholesterol numbers – they didn’t seem to extend lifespans for users. But after the stroke, I was more “open minded” about statins. My doctors wanted me to take them. And the side effects I knew about were not especially frightening.

But this fatigue thing… it may be a deal breaker. I’ve got too much to do. Too many miles to go. I’m not willing to give up three hours of work per day for the nebulous promise of reducing my chances of getting heart disease.

My plan is to ask my primary doctor about lowering my dosage or trying other statins to see if either of those tactics help. In the meantime, I’m going to do more research, which I’ll share with you.

Click here to read a report on the study that my trainer found.

And click here and here and here for some others.