|
The
Gaffer’s Variety Archive |
Gaffer Variety:
Insanity V066:
By Willie Gaffer:
Mrs. Gaffer and I went out a couple of days ago. We had an almost perfect day, combining a visit to the doctor, lunch at a favorite restaurant, and shopping. Everything went well until our last stop. That was at a local lawn-equipment-supply store. We recently bought a pull behind lawn vacuum, which worked quite well, but it did not allow me to get under shrubs and other obstacles where the leaves tend to pile up. This store proprietor had ordered a remote pickup for me, which was nothing more than a 6” diameter, 12’ long vacuum hose with a connector and a handle. We were there to pick it up.
We got much more than we expected. The pickup assembly was there alright, but so was a mad woman. I don’t mean mad like angry, although she was that too. This woman was stark raving mad. She was there buying a power shovel. That is a handy, lightweight electric tool for removing snow from sidewalks and porches. I have one.
Well, Mrs. Gaffer did not notice the surly look of this woman and as she paid for our item, she made a friendly remark to her. She said, “I hope you won’t have to use that thing real soon.” That is a normal opening, weather related, gambit sometimes used to begin a brief conversation. I have heard it often. It did not work that way with this person. Her response can only be described as bizarre.
I did not hear all of the words, but she began with “You people,” included a few curses, and some words about “minding your own business.” The “You people,” of course, referred to the fact that she was black and we were not. It really means Honky, but that is an old school word. I have noticed the “You people” phrase enough to know it as a catch all phrase for everyone who is not black. You could be Indian, Italian, Mexican, or Eskimo, but the point is, “You are not like me.”
Her response shocked me. I can only imagine what it did to Mrs. Gaffer. My eyes must have been the sizes of saucers, as I looked at her with my mouth hanging foolishly open. Well, that was not enough for this woman. She was not finished by far. She walked side step to the door, about 30 feet, flinging vindictive and curses at us as she went. I heard, “You people,” a couple of times along with many words not often used, even in a men’s locker-room. I could only comment, “My God.” I said that three times.
When she finally went out, she left a deafening silence that lasted for several seconds. There were five people in the room and we looked at each other in amazement. I finally said, “We can forgive ignorance.” Of course, that made no sense at all to the people in the room. The others just shook their heads. One person managed to say, “She was like that when she came in.” He must have noticed, as I did, her surly expressions. Then, I compounded my own bluster by saying, “Perhaps God can forgive her.” One of the others added, “I don’t think so. God don’t want nothing to do with her.” There was nothing left to say, so Mrs. Gaffer and I left.
We left, but we were not finished with the mad woman, or she was not finished with us. I heard the scream of spinning tires and she roared up behind us in a car as we were getting into our vehicle. She lowered her window and hurled out another string of vindictive while shaking a fist. I was fed up and I laughed at her. As she squealed away I shouted, “You’re funny.” She flung another curse and peeled out of the parking lot. In retrospect, I can be happy there were no kids crossing the street at the time. I am sure she would have killed them.
After thinking about this episode for several days, I am not at all pleased with how I behaved. Now you may believe it or not, but this is the first time in 76 years that I have been face to face with truly rabid insanity. I did not handle it well at all. What I should have done is put myself between her and Mrs. Gaffer with my back to the woman. Then I should have engaged Mrs. Gaffer in conversation completely unrelated to the woman. In short, I should have ignored her. I did not. I reacted to her, feeding her rage.
So, you see, in dealing with insanity, I have a ways to go.
Of course, I am used to the everyday insanity such as we find in Washington and
Lansing. George Bush is insane with his vendetta against
That is not to say it does not bother me. It bothers me a
great deal to know the kinds of things that pass for normal behavior in our
capitals. In
As another example of what can happen in the separate reality of political nonsense, we have the media convincing themselves of nonsense. Even our high powered intellects are vulnerable to this kind of insanity. Even the people on the Stephanopolous round table get caught up. It is a result of working in this political Washington-speak atmosphere.
For example, they were talking about the economy. They seem to think everything is fine They cite low unemployment as evidence. The don’t have a clue. Even George Will doesn’t get it. The gap between the well off middle class and the working poor has become a chasm. The middle class is shrinking rapidly and the working poor class is expanding exponentially. We did not end slavery with the civil war. This economy has created so many working poor that we have, in fact, developed a new slave class. Many of these people work two jobs just to feed their kids. They are on the ragged edge of survival, but according to these pundits, everything is fine economically.
These people have been wallowing in the political pond for so long they have lost touch. None of them knows what it is like to be afraid, to think of food as a luxury, or to see their kids in some rich kids cast off clothing. None of them has a feeling for what it is like to think of someone who wears a suit as rich. They cannot really identify with desperate people because they have never been desperate. They are far removed from the reality of American life as we know it.
Now, back to the crazy woman. I am left to wonder what could have caused her illness. I am not Jessie Jackson or some other BSing bleeding heart liberal, so I will not pretend I can speak for black people. However, it was clear that her insanity and smoldering rage had a racial basis. The, “You people,” phase was more than rhetorical. She really felt separate and victimized. Further, she believed her main adversaries to be people who are not black. That may be true, but I suspect a great deal of the abuse she suffered came from people who were very close to her, more than probably black people like her.
Regardless, there is a lesson in this for me. I encountered a crazy woman who was suffering from an extreme feeling of separateness. She had a very damaged soul. Out of that encounter, I realize I have not let go of my own feeling of separateness. I reacted badly. I reacted to her as a separate person who I did not like. My behavior helped no one. In fact, I goaded her. An enlightened person would not have done that. I try to get in touch with the idea that the world and all people in it are a single process, but for me it is still an idea, not a reality. It is clear I have a long ways to go.
As to helping this woman, I fear that is impossible. We have
neither the tools nor the will to heal her. I know of no way to even get her
attention, let alone analyze her emotional state. The truth is we do not nave
many good emotional healers even for those who seek help. For the ones who
don’t there is no hope at all. This woman was not born crazy any more than
those murderers at
Back to Gaffer's Variety.