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| 4 December 1992 |
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| Cheryl B. Horton 6420 Orleans Avenue New Orleans, LA 70124 |
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| Re: Current Events |
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| Dear Cheri: |
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Not long ago, I was sent on a mission by my wife: Go to the
supermarket and return with snack crackers. I hate such tasks. |
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| "What kind do you want?" |
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| "Oh, I don't know. Valerie had some delicious fat-free
crackers at the office last week. I can't remember the name. Get
those," said Denise. |
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| I especially abhor an errand as this, its object to seek out and
purchase an item unidentified beyond fat content. Off I went,
dutifully. |
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| As I stood in the center of aisle 17, marvelling at the copious
levels of lard in Doo-Dads and Wheat Thins, a stoutish lady
pushed a buggy overflowing with groceries and an infant past my
backside, toward the deli. Just beyond my "space", she
stopped, turned, and said, "Come on, David." In the
midst of gathering my wits, I heard a small but defiant
"No" uttered from down the way. I followed the lady's
eyes to David, perhaps four, standing with one foot atop the
other precariously near soon-to-be very expensive bottles of
French white wine. |
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| "I said come here now, young man." There was business
in this voice. |
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| "I want Fruit Loops," complained young David. |
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| "Get over here right now," his mother warned. |
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| "No, pooh-pooh head." |
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| I winced and cringed and nudged my way forward until I brushed
against Triskets. The lady marched to her son and lifted him by a
bicep, his feet dangling in air. Then away she strode with David
hanging from one hand and pushing her loaded buggy with the
other. |
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| Somewhat unsettled by the small act of defiance I had witnessed,
I chose Doo-Dads, chock-full of fat, and left. Driving home, I
tried to figure why another's challenge of authority evoked an
uneasiness in me. Was it empathy for the underdog? Was it
apprehension of authority's swift retribution? |
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| Later, I read the account of Keith, who was fired upon the
telling of his homosexuality to his boss. Keith sued, and a
United States District Court judge ordered that Keith be
reinstated to his former position. Keith's employer said
"No, pooh-pooh head," like this: "The situation
remains unchanged pending evaluating possible responses to the
judge's ruling." |
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| This was an unimaginable rebellion against heavyweight authority,
and yet, no queasiness rose in my gut as it had in Winn-Dixie.
(After all, federal judges are only about one-half step below
Jehovah on the authority scale. The only reason their orders are
not chiseled into tablets of stone is that more powerful
deities, lurking nearby in groups or "panels", may say
an order is wrong. Stonecutters are expensive. I have seen
middle-aged lawyers -- their compliance with orders of federal
judges questioned -- stand before bench and act like Bert Lahr
fidgeting with the tuft of his leonine tail while asking the
Wizard for some spine.) |
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| Keith's boss was the United States Navy, almost as powerful as a
federal judge. Perhaps, I thought, my lack of compassion for the
Navy resulted from its being fairly matched with the institution
it challenged. The more likely explanation is this: A four-year-old ought to express his individuality by protesting a ban on
Fruit Loops. A righteous purpose, albeit a fruitless one (no pun
intended). In my view the Navy is wrong in its position, and I
hoped the judge would commence headbashing. Before the jurist got
the chance, the Navy relented and put Keith to work again. |
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| What's all the hoopla about, anyhow? One thing is certain: As
Pericles urged his armies onward to Sparta in 445 B.C., there
were among his legions several fellows who thought the Spartans
were too cute to kill. Denying this inevitable consequence of
gathering thousands of humans will not make the least difference. |
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| David's mom would not consider buying sugar-sweet Fruit Loops for
her children. The U. S. Navy thinks like David's mom. |
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| However, while controlling the unhealthy consumption of excessive
sugars is desirable and achievable, eradicating what scientific
study tells us is genetically determined is quite another thing. |
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| The issue is whether uniformed gays may march forth from the
closet. I have heard that typical barracks banter always included
the admonition "If you drop the soap, do not bend over to
pick it up." It seems that our servicemen (or servicepersons
to be politically correct) would welcome knowing who is friend
and who is foe in circumstances when the Zest hits the tiled
floor. |
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| More Later, |
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| David J. L'Hoste |
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| DJL/djl |
| cc: Bernard A. Horton Russell B. Ramsey Denise F. L'Hoste Paul D. Cordes |
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