Distaste for the Illogical

The first thing I think of whenever anyone mentions “Christmas” is hospitality; We spend time with our families, we celebrate our respective festivities, and we take on a more humanitarian perspective in how we see the world around us. If there’s any time at all when someone can put his or her faith in the kindness of others, I would think it would be late December.

Despite the fact that December 25th is an ordinary yet arbitrary day, we’ve associated it (based on the imprtance we’ve given the date as a society) with the birth of the Christian savior and with good will and peace on Earth. And high-def TVs with oversized novelty bows on them, from what commercials tell me.

I spent the last week searching for a somewhat less tangible meaning for this sacred holiday, rooted in our existence since the founding of Christianity: I saw apron-clad Salvation Army workers ringing bells outside nondescript shopping malls, shunned by shopper after shopper. I glanced at the signs held by the homeless men and women of my city at nearly every major intersection, written on corrugated cardboard, each one a cry for help. Even as I sat helpless in a snowbound traffic jam, hundreds of drivers honked their horns at the less fortunate motorists who had not been able to upgrade their tires before the snow had come and hopelessly impaired their roadway travel.

I decided that I didn’t want to be a part of the problem any longer, especially after what I had seen in a single day.

Despite the fact that the diffusion of responsibility had rendered hundreds of motorists inert on one utterly insignificant stretch of road in my city, I made a firm decision that moment.

I switched on my hazard lights in heavy traffic, no longer giving a damn what anyone in the long line of human beings in what would have been their steel coffins thought. I got behind the car in front of me and started to push it with all my might.

Soon, I was joined by another human being. I didn’t know her name, her age, or what she stood to gain. At that moment in time, it didn’t matter. A problem  had come up, and myself and a middle-aged person dressed in hospital scrubs had stepped up to the challenge. We spoke casually as we worked to push the stranger’s Hyundai up the hill and off of a side road, all while other motorists tried wrecklessly to pass by.

Although it strikes me that there may be little to no motivation for exerting one’s self to help another, it seems that empathy could be a key factor in compelling someone to try and remedy a situation that one may envision himself in. Yet many insist on doing nothing.

If one or two people don’t help someone else, hundreds of people may wait for hours. If one or two people don’t stop to see if someone is alright, one hundred people may become responsible for the death of another. If nobody donates to charity, one, two, or a thousand may feel the bitterness of apathy in the form of neglect, hunger, sickness, or death.

If there is one time a year where compassion should be more important, Christmas should be that time. I wish more people had the courage to express this.

We all have time for our families, our friends, and the ones who mean the most to us. Is it possible to spare yet another moment or two for someone who really does need it?

After all, we’re all human beings, and we’re all in this together. Isn’t that good enough?

Here in Worcester, we had a notoriously destructive ice storm a couple days ago. When the ice began to melt the next day, it began to crack the tops of trees off as well as even snapping off enormous branches. This video from an independent reader of the Worcester Telegram and Gazette Newspaper captures a small fraction of the severity of the storm’s aftermath;

The majority of my city was left without power, sparing only certain homes and establishments. Although my workplace was still powered, I looked down the street at other restaurants and businesses which were not so fortunate. I wondered what would happen to the ice cream in the freezer at Friendly’s a mere half mile from my house with 3 days of electricity blackout and counting, not to mention the fates of those who rely on a steady working week for their livelihood.

At church, the pastor used his homily to relay a call for help from a nearby senior living center, a place which without power, left over 60 elderly men and women without prepared food. As I drove over to drop off a large helping of spaghetti and chicken, I saw what may have contributed to the power outage; an enormous tree uprooted and knocked down right in front of the building’s entrance.

When I returned home, I noticed an impossibly large pine branch sitting right in my parking space. The sheer size of the branch could have crushed my car, forcing me to have to drive a convertible. Instead, it had just taken the passenger side mirror right off of my sister’s car, which was parked next to my spot.

I suppose karma might have something to do with it.

The coverage of the storm and its destructive wake is ongoing, with the Telegram and Gazette keeping us updated. Rescue crews and electronics specialists are heading from Ohio, Pennsylvania, and even from Canada to try and fix all of the damage done to our power grid. We’re still very optimistic.

What’s catchy about my topic today isn’t the interrobang at the end of the sentence (although it runs a close second). What’s interesting is that it makes vague mention of a long string of historically constant corruption in the Windy City.

While I’m terribly confused at how exactly one would go about “selling a senate seat,” I’ve noticed that Illinois Governor Rod Blagojevic has effortlessly continued the legacy of Chicago politics by becoming (if convicted) the FOURTH Illinois Governor to go to jail in 40 years.

In that spirit, I decided to make a brief list of political and societal blemishes that have happened throughout Chicago’s history;

• Many speculate that Stephen Douglas, candidate for president against Abraham Lincoln (A shining exception to the corrupt political legacy in Chicago), was brought into the political arena through suspected mob ties.
• In 1886, the growing intolerance towards organized labor in urban Chicago caused members of the Haymarket Labor Strike to be prosecuted for murder and treason after an unknown assailant set off a bomb near the sentinel police force. Instead of reform, 4 of the protesters were put to death.
• In 1906, Upton Sinclair detailed the horrible shenanigans and shady business practices of Chicago’s meat packing industry, later leading to a widespread reform of unskilled labor.
• In 1919, the Chicago city baseball team (later nicknamed the Black Socks) was indicted for attempting to throw the World Series against Cinncinati. Although the eight players cited were acquitted, they were still banned from professional baseball for life.
• In 1968, Mayor Richard Daley was isolated in big-city mob politics as the force behind the bribery of then-Governor Otto Kerner. Other incidents he was linked to include the authorization of the Chicago police to use excessive force on anti-war demonstrators.

Although I’ve never been to Chicago, I can only assume that it’s a hospitable place where anyone can have a fantastic time. I am also fairly sure that most of Chicago’s history is a positive reflection of its legacy, just as much as I’m certain that every other city has its own fair share of bad political karma.

In light of it all recently, let’s hope this is the last of it. Is it just me, or does scandal always follow in a major political wake?