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Responsibility for oneself
Jan. 19th, 2007 11:20 pmWith some degree of regularity, we love to catch Boston Legal each Tuesday night. Brain-candy though it may be, the writers for the show mix a delightful medley of unparalleled comic tension with an occasional reality check about today’s society. One of the most obvious generalizations featured regularly by the show involves what has sadly become a truly American modern concept – the frivolous lawsuit.
In America, we seem to have more protections and recourses available for wrong-doers than we do for the innocent. WTF? How did THAT happen?
In America, a person can be speeding, drive into a ditch, and sue because the transit authority didn’t have a barrier along the ditch. WTF?
In America, a thief can put a stocking over his head, break into another person’s home, trip over something, and then sue the owner of the home for wrongful damages. WTF?
While many Americans (myself included) appreciate the creature comforts and freedoms that we share here in this red, white and blue land of ours, I cannot help but cast my thoughts over to Europe where the mentality is different. Over there, in so many ways, if you trip and hurt yourself, guess what buddy – that is YOUR problem. The emphasis is not on triple-checking to make sure that everyone ELSE is safe. The emphasis is on watching your own back. And if you don’t? You are S.O.L. What a concept!
I recall years ago, I visited Ireland. Emerald Isle that it is, every meter reveals a new piece of history or time capsule to times long gone. One day, in my enthusiasm, I found myself climbing the tower of Slaine Abbey. Was there any warning or safety blocking? Heck no! There are ruined castles every other bluff! So foolish moi ventured on.
As I neared half-way inside the spiral stairwell, I realized that I was not simply cramped in the tower (which was clearly built for much smaller people), but I was also beginning to panic because of the claustrophobia. Slippery though the stairs were, I began to quicken the pace in my climb. Eventually, I found myself stories high in a very, very thin tower. So small was the stairwell, I didn’t have the room or ability to turn around, which at this point I wanted to do. So, I quickened the pace even more. Finally, seeing light ahead, I kept climbing and climbing until…
….AIYEEE!!!!!!!
One more step, and it WOULD have been AIYEE! You see… while the tower looked intact, much of it had long ago collapsed. In fact, the top step was where the tower ended. No more was there a floor or any sort of footing. It wasn’t so much a tower that led nowhere… it was a tower that led DOWN! And QUICKLY! So there I was, about four or five stories above a rocky ruined church floor, with nowhere to go but down. And so small was the top step that I could not put both feet down.
With my heart stuck in my throat, I had no time to think. I wanted to crouch low to the ground, but to do that would send me over the edge. I had one choice – I closed my eyes, jumped slightly and spun around in mid-air leaning forward ever so slightly. Even though my foot slipped a little when I hit the stair, I fell forward, which meant I was now heading down the stairs. I caught myself by about the fourth one, regained my footing, and found stability. Back down the tiny spiraling stairs I trotted, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to just hurl. Near death experiences are just not my thing!
All the while, I thought to myself, “Oh great, I can just see the morning local news tomorrow. ‘In today’s headlines, another stupid American tourist plummeted to his death off of Slaine Abbey tower. Local farmers say, “Quite tragic, really…. Is it tea time yet?” In other news, strategic sheep research links irradiated feed to unstable wool…”
In America, we seem to have more protections and recourses available for wrong-doers than we do for the innocent. WTF? How did THAT happen?
In America, a person can be speeding, drive into a ditch, and sue because the transit authority didn’t have a barrier along the ditch. WTF?
In America, a thief can put a stocking over his head, break into another person’s home, trip over something, and then sue the owner of the home for wrongful damages. WTF?
While many Americans (myself included) appreciate the creature comforts and freedoms that we share here in this red, white and blue land of ours, I cannot help but cast my thoughts over to Europe where the mentality is different. Over there, in so many ways, if you trip and hurt yourself, guess what buddy – that is YOUR problem. The emphasis is not on triple-checking to make sure that everyone ELSE is safe. The emphasis is on watching your own back. And if you don’t? You are S.O.L. What a concept!
I recall years ago, I visited Ireland. Emerald Isle that it is, every meter reveals a new piece of history or time capsule to times long gone. One day, in my enthusiasm, I found myself climbing the tower of Slaine Abbey. Was there any warning or safety blocking? Heck no! There are ruined castles every other bluff! So foolish moi ventured on.
As I neared half-way inside the spiral stairwell, I realized that I was not simply cramped in the tower (which was clearly built for much smaller people), but I was also beginning to panic because of the claustrophobia. Slippery though the stairs were, I began to quicken the pace in my climb. Eventually, I found myself stories high in a very, very thin tower. So small was the stairwell, I didn’t have the room or ability to turn around, which at this point I wanted to do. So, I quickened the pace even more. Finally, seeing light ahead, I kept climbing and climbing until…
….AIYEEE!!!!!!!
One more step, and it WOULD have been AIYEE! You see… while the tower looked intact, much of it had long ago collapsed. In fact, the top step was where the tower ended. No more was there a floor or any sort of footing. It wasn’t so much a tower that led nowhere… it was a tower that led DOWN! And QUICKLY! So there I was, about four or five stories above a rocky ruined church floor, with nowhere to go but down. And so small was the top step that I could not put both feet down.
With my heart stuck in my throat, I had no time to think. I wanted to crouch low to the ground, but to do that would send me over the edge. I had one choice – I closed my eyes, jumped slightly and spun around in mid-air leaning forward ever so slightly. Even though my foot slipped a little when I hit the stair, I fell forward, which meant I was now heading down the stairs. I caught myself by about the fourth one, regained my footing, and found stability. Back down the tiny spiraling stairs I trotted, tears streaming down my face. I wanted to just hurl. Near death experiences are just not my thing!
All the while, I thought to myself, “Oh great, I can just see the morning local news tomorrow. ‘In today’s headlines, another stupid American tourist plummeted to his death off of Slaine Abbey tower. Local farmers say, “Quite tragic, really…. Is it tea time yet?” In other news, strategic sheep research links irradiated feed to unstable wool…”
