What a day...

[usernamenumber]

Lizbeth and I are doing the one-two perspective on this one, since we've both got a lot to get out.

In short: Man, what a day. This post got awfully long, so I'll cut it into parts. At least read the last one. It's graphic, but it's important. That said, though, I'm too tired to proofread it so know that I'm just shooting for coherancy at this point.


The day started with a pleasant IM conversation with heiligekuh. After that, it was off to the Pacific Beach Block Party. The Block Party is an annual event where about 8 blocks of Garnett Ave (norcal people: think Telegraph with a beach instead of a university) are roped off and filled with booths all down the middle of the street plus 8 stages playing local bands all day (10am-6pm) simultaneously.

Wow. Getting into the local music scene being a top priority for me this was heaven-sent. I was out the door at about 10:30 to see what was to be seen. One of the amazingly cool things about our place, which it occurs to me I've yet to expound upon, is that we live right next door (literally) from "Ocean Walk" aka The Boardwalk aka the long, paved "street" along the seawall that covers the widths of Mission Beach, Pacific Beach and a couple of other cities and is for non-motorized/pedestrian use only. It's divided into three lanes. The seaward half is dedicated to pedestrian traffic. The other half is bisected into northbound and southbound lanes for bikes, rollerblades and skateboards, right down to having little decals of a bike, a rollerblade and a skateboard in the appropriate lanes! In the month we've lived here, we've driven maybe 5 times and almost all of that was to go see Elizabeth's siblings' orchestra recitals elsewhere in the SD area. Groceries, the library and, in this case, the block party are all skatable for me, so my ancient tank of a skateboard that I've lugged with me all these years is finally getting used. ...but I digress.



The first band I found was probably the best I saw all day: Buckfast Superbee (whew. now I don't have to remember that name anymore). The stuff at their site doesn't really do justice to the energy they had live. It also helped that that early in the day I had the energy to bounce and dance and feel all cool with my hair down, my skateboard in hand and my now infamous "I am the Brute Squad" shirt on.

After they played I migrated over to the electronica stage, which was a big dissapointment. When we saw Henry Rollins speak last month he made some comments about his annoyance with "people who have the audacity to call themselves musicians when all they do is sit there and play records from their parents' music collection on $5,000 players". At the time I'd been taken aback by the comment. I know enough people who are serious about electronica to know that there's more to it than that, but this guy was just. playing. records. And while each song played he was talking to his friends, smoking a cigarrette, whatever. When he did take 10 seconds to set up a transition and do it it was just that: a transition. A jarring, "lets put on a track running at about 1&1/3 the bpm of the previous track" transition. I was glad to go. The fact that it was daylight on a city street with no one else listening also didn't help.

After that I made it down to the 94.9 station, my love for which I have gone off about before. I spoke to the people there, talked about how happy I am with their music selection, moaned a bit about how the company they use for streaming goes to great lengths to see to it that only Windows Media player (which of course I don't have) can be used to stream their site. It's not that they just use a format my Linux stuff can't play, there's two pages of javascript in the page that checks the browser, checks for the right pluging etc etc and gives you a messages saying you need a better browser to listen. But that's another story. Short version: The guy was really cool and really happy to heard the compliments. He said they had no idea about the winmedia thing and if I sent and email their tech people would yell at the streaming people. He then introduced me to one of their DJs and pulled out a stack of their "staff picks" CDs and told me to take one. Schweeeeet. So along with the four free sampler CDs I'd picked up elsewhere I now have a copy of "Absolution" by Muse, who are supposed to be very, very good. Can't wait to hear it.

The day progressed and all kinds of happy little things happened. I found that I could keep up with Lizbeth's bike just fine on my skateboard and that over the last week or so my "sense" for skating: the balance, the feel of it was really flooding back to the point where I was weaving through crowds Michael J. Fox style while still looking good doing it. It felt very, very nice.

It wasn't until relatively late in the day that I noticed Mojo Nixon was playing solo. Whoa. I figured I had to go check that out. It didn't take long for me to remember, though, that as much as I feel I ought to like him, I really don't. You've got to give credit to a man who can keep a crowd glued to him with just himself and a guitar and I appreciate the fact that the very first thing he did was demand that every body come up to the stage (before that the crowd had left the traditional semicircle of nothing at the front where the pit would be for a punk or metal show). But eventually I realized that though he seems like an awfully nice guy, a rockabilly 50something singing songs about how Dave Matthews is a "panty waist" and a love song to his wife called "She put a Louisiana Liplock on my Love Pork Chop" really just wasn't doing anything for me.

I missed seeing General Public, who I remember oh-so-vaguely from the 80s. I realy wish I'd at least gotten to hear some of their set to remember what they sounded like. Instead I found myself catching the end of a set by "Roger Clyne and the Peacemakers". Old fashioned hard rock and roll. Great energy. Very fun. Plus one of the more interesting "shirt fanboy" runins. I know perfectly well that when I wear by "Brute Squad" shirt I am soliciting commentary. I don't know anyone in this town and its one of my best geek magnets. In this case, though, it led to no meaningful meetings. Mostly just a lot of drunk people pleasantly whiplashed back to their childhood at the sight of me (if I hear "You ARE the brute squad!" shouted at me from a balcony one more time...). Anyway, during this band's set, an older guy comes out of the crowd and asks me if he could take a picture of me with his friend. Later I saw him taking a similar picture with a old guy wearing mardi-gras beads and rollerblading with ski poles, so I think he was building a "wierdos of the Block Party" gallery. Good company, no doubt.

I won't go into too much detail about the rest of the day music-wise. I saw a some of a really fun rock/blues act called Joe Bonamassa and part of a Reggae group called the B-Side Players. Most of their lyrics were in Spanish and they were plenty up-beat. This is a good thing, since the only kind of reggae I can really listen to is the upbeat kind. The last band of the day was "This Holiday Life", who I'd heard on 94.9 and was playing at their booth. Really fun powerpop. They were selling two EPs for $10, so that brought my total CD-haul for the day up to 7. Veeery nice. Plus, their guitarist looked disconcertingly like hanashibeta and was extremely friendly after the show.



That was around 5:30 and the day was going great until then.

Our plan was to finish up by skating/biking all the way down the boardwalk to the bay, overshooting our apartment in the process, and then heading back up along the bay-side of the penninsula back to our place (have I mentioned that I LOVE living where we live?). On the way we stopped to get food at a cheap little taqueria a block away from the boardwalk.

That's when we met "friendly guy". He was a muscly guy, short, wife-beater shirt, shaved head, etc. But he took one look at my shirt and just got esctatic. He comes up to me and says "Man, do you know what movie that's from??"

Umm...

"Yeah, man. It's from The Princess Bride"

"ALLRIGHT! That is so great man. Woo!"

Now, mind you: He wasn't (apparently) drunk or loopy, he just really like the shirt. Apparently still unable to contain his excitement he proceeds to go through all his friends and all 10 other people in line and pose the question: "Hey, look at that dude's shirt. Do you know what movie that's from?".

I must admit I was pretty surprised that almost no one recognized the quote. One of his friends hadn't even heard of the movie. Well, you can imagine how he reacted to that. I'll try and put down what he said from memory. I'm not making fun, but it was... interesting:

"Aww man, it's this indie film from way back. And it's got Andre the Giant in it, who's this biiiig mothafucker from Romania or something. Dude was like 7'7 and 500 pounds and was all 'Raaar!'. And the movie's set in, like, the 1500s or 1600s so it's all swords and shit and the cops are these guys called the Brute Squad. And this big dude, he's like "I am the Brute Squad" 'cause he's like.. 5 guys!"

"So it's a comedy?"

"It's comedy and romance and drama!"

...etc.

Anyway, the guy seemed genuinely friendly to me despite his perhaps excessive... enthusiasm for The Princess Bride.

But it was about this time that a problem started brewing with some people sitting on the steps behind where we were waiting to order our food. I had noticed a skinhead with "White Power" tatooed across his chest and resolved to ignore the lot of them, but behind me I heard one of the girls who was with another guy in that group swearing at the guy she was with, telling him to leave her alone. Then I heard her slapping him and telling himg to *ahem* bug off more. I learned after the fact that the behavior she'd been reacting to involved him grabbing her breasts. This was about the time that Elizabeth handed me her bike, said "hold this, please", and turned right 'round to walk up to the guy:

"Excuse me, but do you know what sexual harrassment is? Because that's what you're doing to her right now."

"That's not what we're fuckin talking about."

"Hey, she told you to stop doing that and you didn't!"

I don't remember exactly what words were exchanged after that, but the guy didn't get violent (*whew*) and, having made her point (to the girl if not the guy), Lizbeth backed off. I told her well done and the girl in front of her threw in a "right on, sista!", though she finished it with a sobering "she's probably only going to learn the hard way".

I was so proud of her that moment. She's so funny. We've had infuriating conversations in the past where she's been unwilling to say that a cold-blooded murderer was "bad" because without being inside his/her head she how could puny little her cast judgement. And yet other times she's been even more infuriatingly prejudiced about things that I want to consider surface traits and non-person-defining behaviors. But in this case, not only did she know she was right, not only did she know what was happening around her was wrong, she was the only one in that whole damn line with the courage to stand up and give the after-school-special speech that guy deserved. Shortly after the "encounter", the girl got upset with him again, but this time she left and this time (I'm told she tried before) he didn't stop her. Bra. Vo.

So, that was a bit... stimulating and at this point we hadn't even placed our orders. We made it to the front of the line, placed orders (mmm... horchata...) and sat down to wait, across the parking lot from the skinheads. Some fratboy looking guy was walking through with a video camera at about that time and apparently thought the "white power" tatoo was amusing, so he started to film the skins, who promptly gathered up and started sig-heil'ing for the camera. I want to retch just thinking about it now. I'd vent, but I know I'm preaching to the choir here.

..and was that friendly guy up there with them?

Shit.

If I'd been black and wearing that tshirt, I wonder if he'd have had the same reaction?

Anyway, the worst was still to come. As were waiting, a well-built mexican guy comes along and notices "White Power"'s tatoo. Needless to say he's not happy about it. Now, what happened next is pieced together from Lizbeth and I having talked about it afterwards. At the time we were either paying attention to other things, or (speaking for myself here) intentionally ignoring the signs in the hopes that they would somehow evaportate if they weren't watched.

I think the Mexican guy started it. At least when I looked up he'd gone from be vocally upset about the tatoo to some friends nearby to actually being in "white power"'s face about it. Now, to his credit, "white power" seemed to be backing down. He didn't seem like he wanted a fight. One the one hand, I want to think of having a tatoo like that as asking for a fight and his trying to back out of said fight as being a little like that annoying "I'm not touching yooou" game that kids play. But then the price of my freedom of expression is his freedom of expression and it's not fair of me (I guess) to feel that any kind of non-physical expression warrants physical retaliation.

Unfortunately, one of wp's buddies disagreed. This is from Lizbeth's account since once I saw the two in each other's faces I went into "ignore it and it will go away" mode, but apparently one of the other skins comes up from the side and sucker-punched the Mexican guy in the head. This led to five skins all beating up on the one other. When he went down to the ground they started to kick him and stomp on him.

And I watched.

I just fucking watched.

I got closer, trying to get my nerve up to actually do something (and Lizbeth says some noticed and began to back off then), but it wasn't until he'd been down and bleeding for a while (probably 5-10 seconds realtime, but it felt like 30) that I actually shoved one of the smaller ones out of the way and said "that's enough!". The small one didn't retaliate like I was afraid he would, turning the whole thing into a brawl, but while my attention was on him, White "Power" (I like that version of the name much better, don't you?) gets a running start of 10 feet or so, stomps the Mexican in the stomach and runs his cowardly ass away before the cops could show.

In retrospect one size-14 boot placed just so on his chest during that run would have flipped him back and cracked his hairless skull on the pavement. In retrospect I still wish I had done it. In foresight (or whatever the opposite of retrospect is) I'm still afraid some day that I really am going to let loose on some idiot and I don't know if I'm more afraid of getting beaten up for my efforts or actually being the one to inflict grevious hard on another person, any person.

I spent the whole ride home after that, including several stops to rest, regretting. Regretting that I hadn't jumped in the second the Mexican went down in an effort to get the skins off of him. Regretting that after the fact all I could do was say "you ok, man?" Like it's so easy to go from spectator to caring guy.

But there's so much that makes this complicated and so much that makes it heart-rending. I mean, from what I could tell, even though he didn't throw the first punch, it was the Mexican who went looking for a fight (unless you count having "white power" tatood on your chest looking for a fight, but that's been discussed already). Should he, on a practical level, not an idealogical one, have done that to what was pretty aparently more than just a lone skinhead? Was he overconfident, or did he do it on principle, not caring how many there were?

What really hurt was what his friend said (screamed, rather) to the skins while helping him off of the ground:

"This guy just got back from Iraq! He shed blood for you, man! He shed blood for you!"

Nothing in this entire story makes me want to weep more. I'll set aside my feelings about the war in Iraq, which most of you share and all of you can probably guess, and admit that the soldiers there (current headlines aside) are taking risks and doing things that I would never have the guts to take or do, maybe not even for cause that I thought was right. So what must it feel like to get off of that plane and no sooner be back home than see some twentysomething with shit like that scrawled across his chest? I would've gotten hot too in that situation. I might've taken them on too.

And then there's the behavior of "friendly guy": I hadn't seen, but Lizbeth says he was definately involved in the fight. Strangely, though, when I first saw him, he seemed to be trying to make peace with the Mexican guy. It's all a bit blurry, but I think the Mexican made a threatening movement toward friendly and friendly punched him. HARD. So hard that I heard the "pop" of fist against skull that sent his (victim? opponent?) not just to the ground, but with momentum that cracked his head audibly against the pavement. Now, before anybody gets worried, the Mexican guy was ok enough to get back up, look dazed for a while and eventually head off with friends before the cops showed up.

After throwing the punch, friendly started yelling and screaming about (I've probably remembered all of this, including the city wrong, btw) "This is Long Beach DK! I want all y'all to know who we are! This is DK, bitch!".

And yet, the next thing I remember (this really is all a fog, I guess they could have been two different people who just looked similar...) friendly is back to trying to be the peacemaker, actually saying to the (bigger) friend now helping the Mexican up "Look, I'm with him, I'm on his side, I'm not meaning anybody harm" or something to that effect. Either it was two people, or friendly has some very strange issues. I've been thinking about him ever since. I want to write it off to some strange anger-management issue that's led him to into a crowd for which violence is an everyday thing. Or maybe I was just confused and there really were two people. But then, he _was_ with them. And though I only saw him walking away from the group after the camera guy left it seems that he _was_ sig-heiling with them.

I just don't know what to make of the whole thing. And it hurts to know I was just a spectator. And it hurts more to know that I still don't know what I should have done. I my head I'm beating up the whole gang of them Jet Li style. Of course, that's stupid. I'm big, but I haven't thrown a punch since the 7th grade, and that was more of a slap. Plus, how do I justify it when they were just sitting there, expressing their vile opinions but not starting the fight?

But I'm overthinking this. WP might have acted like he didn't want to fight at first, but he had no problem with his friend sucker-punching the other guy. He had no problem with five of them ganging up on one. He had no problem stomping on the guy *after* he'd gone down. And then he ran away. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. I am so mad right now. I'm back to the "beating on them" loop in my head.

Fuck.

I need to go to bed or play some music or do something to get this social oilspill out of my system.

One last thing, though.

Well, two actually:

First, Lizbeth, to her credit had 911 dialed on her cell even before the first punch was thrown, but just to add one more little bit of ventage to this, she got disconnected twice, then put on hold and never did talk to a live person. The cops showed up shortly after the fight was over and immediately pulled friendly aside, leaving the rest of us alone (maybe they knew him, or maybe they grabbed him because he was the only one sporting bloodstains). But by that time, both wp and the Mexican had left.

Second, Lizbeth made a comment shortly after the whole affair had wound down. She noted that spending the entire day had dulled her "people sensors", but that friendly guy had set off violence warning bells all over for her and if she'd had her full instincts about her she would have wanted to leave. But it occurs to me that if we hadn't been there then maybe that girl wouldn't have gotten up the guts to leave without having heard Lizbeth tell her "boyfriend" off. Maybe the Mexican guy would have gotten beaten up worse if I hadn't stepped in when I did (such as I did). And the experience left me better in a way, too. Just now I overheard a neighbor woman calling from her porch (something along the lines of) "Shaaaaroon? Where are you? I need you here now I'm in trouble!". After Sharon (or whatever) failed to answer a few calls I stepped onto my patio and asked if she was ok and could I help. She said no, but was pleasantly surprised that a stranger had even answered her call for help.

We watch too much TV.

Or we're too ready to sit and get every side of the story before taking action.

This last one is something I advocate all the time myself and yet in so many ways its turned us into individuals with all the efficiency of a beurocracy. I am a committe of one, going through procedures of information gathering, review, consideration and wishing I could just changed the damn channel.

I know some of you have read Watchmen. If you have: Rorschach's origin story. 'Nuff said.

I might not have answered that woman's call at all if today's events hadn't shamed me out of the spectator's mindset. Here's hoping it sticks. I think I'd rather have a well-meant mistake on my conscience than complicity in another event like today for lack of the courage to make a mistake at all.

...or maybe not.

Whatever. I'm done.


If you actually read all this, thanks. I really needed to get some stuff off my chest (obviously). Even if you didn't I'll give you a final treat: An example of what happens when your "look" tends toward frumpiness in the first place and you then spend the whole day skateboarding around PB/MB with no sunscreen on (yeesh): Behold, if you dare.

--Brad

Comments

Mediation

[csharpmajor.livejournal.com]

Hey!

Awesome story! I'm so glad you guys are so happy with this area!

About the fight, I dunno what I would have done, but it definately sounds like you did the right thing. It sounds like there was no real way to prevent bloodshed in that situation, aside from precognition . . .

You know what they say, "Tis better to beg forgiveness than seek approval". I definately think that there is no excuse for idleness in a situation like that. Huzzah for you two!!!

Mars

[heiligekuh.livejournal.com]

oh, that's going to hurt on the morrow....

[dfn-doe.livejournal.com]

my .02, not getting involved, while maybe not feeling too hot, is alot better than biting off more than you can chew. The regret you feel right now is alot less painful than getting shot or stabbed, or even worrying about some vendetta hanging over your head for who knows how long.

[aerynvale.livejournal.com]

There's no easy answer to a situation like that, man, and I would've hesitated in the same situation. It would have taken a lot of energy projected at those skinheads for me to have accomplished what you did just by being a big guy, even if you're not a fighter, and ramping up that much energy is not something that's easy to do on short notice. For me, anyway.

Anyway, I think the fact that you stepped in at all was the right thing to do, and also the fact that you /didn't/ end up in a brawl is commendable. That's really the way to handle things, whether you've got Jet Li's fancy moves or no.

[pindar.livejournal.com]

Don't beat yourself up over hesitating. The important thing is that you got stuck in and defending this guy eventually. It's only natural to think of self-protection in these circumstances and it takes a lot to overcome that and make the move.

The first time I was on peacekeeping operations (op Provide Comfort as part of UNPROFOR) I had to stand back and watch because it wasn't permitted in our RoE or SOPs to get involved unless civilians were in imminent danger, and that was counter-intuitive. I wanted to give the orders to the guys to interveiene in the countless squabbles that took place between various factions but couldn't. The times we did get involved, to a man, the first reaction was "is this going to get me killed?" because we could only fire if fired upon and use otherwise reasonable force when again we would otherwise use force and agression to ensure our own safety.

[jodisays.livejournal.com]

don't beat yourself up over it. it is a hard lesson to realize that we do have some filters, and some self-protective instincts. but you did jump in, and probably faster than you thought. misery loves slow-cam.

in a way, though, fighting the human instinct to help is necessary. if you got in there and threw down too hard, who knows how many would have been on you? and it only takes 1 well-laid kick or punch by either side to have someone fall and smash their head open. as satisfying as kicking the hell out of WP would have been, you as a nice person would have the problem of guilt regardless. that is part of the reason it sucks to the on the "good" side.

and mind the white power folk. they've got lawyers you wouldn't believe.

as to the burn, as the neighborhood i think of sun and i burn redhead: get plain black tea...liptons, whatever...and brew a jug or bowl of if very strong. bring to room temp. (not too chilled or it will hurt) and soak towels in it to drape on the burn. resoak when the towel feels warm from the burn stealing the cool. the tannin in tea really helps a burn not stay as vicious.

[usernamenumber.livejournal.com]

I just want to say thanks to everyone who responded. I'm feeling better today. Even the sunburn isn't as bad as it looks in the picture. Well, it actually still looks about that bad, but strangely it doesn't hurt. I've just got a real bugger of a headache.

Thanks again.

--Brad

[fiatlouis.livejournal.com]

Damn. That's quite a story, thank you for sharing. You know, every time I watch a film where someone steps in, or someone doesn't step in and it's "obvious" they should have, I start wondering what I would do in that kind of situation. And I just don't know. I feel like I have a strong sense of ethics, moderated by an intellectual upbringing, but also a strong sense of self-preservation. From my vantage point, not being an imposing physical specimen like yourself, I would want me to have yelled "I'm getting the cops!" or something like that, as a sort of compromise between engaging in the fighting (with the very real possibility that I would also get hurt) and ignoring it all.
Interestingly enough, I saw a study the other day, which I don't have a link to at the moment, about how if you are getting beat up/mugged/raped whatever, you have a much better chance of being helped if very few people are around. The bigger the crowd, the more people watch everyone else, waiting for somebody to do something, but not wanting to be the first to act. So the fact that you did something, without someone else going first, is actually quite impressive, from a mob psychology perspective. I think you did a lot more than most people would have, and I'm quite impressed. Continue being an awesome man, Brad.

[dfn-doe.livejournal.com]

It's a phenomenom known as diffusion of responsibility and it's quite well documented. In one case that is quite famous a person was shot in a New York neighborhood in a location that was visible from something like 300 different high rise apartment/business windows. Despite it's high visibilty nobody called the police for hours after the shooting and the person who was shot died as result of lack of medical attention. In a police follow-up it turned out that over 100 people had witnessed the shooting but nobody called 911 because they all thought that someone else would have called....

[usernamenumber.livejournal.com]

The "rorschach's origin story" I mentioned is similar: Bascially the murder of a young woman in the 50s. It was very messy and very noisy. The entire apartment complex heard her cries and actually watched from their balconys, but no one did anything.

I just realized that others who're familiar with Watchmen might not know this next bit, so pay attention:

Unfortunately I can't remember the woman's name right now, but a couple of months ago, eerily only a few days after I'd re-read that part of the book, I heard it mentioned on NPR. They proceeded to re-tell that same story that I'd thought was fiction (followed by an interview with her lesbian lover, which was not mentioned in Watchmen).

It seems that in writing rorschach's origin, Alan Moore had in fact been drawing on a real event and I'd had no idea. Of course, this only made it more heart-wrenching.

So, yeah. Similar deal.

[abazureonna.livejournal.com]

hey more violence certainly wouldn't have helped the situation. calling 911 on the cell is exactly the right thing to do, imo, even if, for whatever reason, 911 decides it's on vacation.

[slyviolet.livejournal.com]

I learned the hard way when I was 9 not to step into the middle of a dogfight. When people get so angry that they become physically violent, they are not going to notice much who they are hitting and whether that person is actually a threat. So staying out of the fight itself was your best move to keep yourself from getting hurt. You did what you could. I know the regret you feel, and I have felt it too- but remember that there is a difference between regret of something you should have done, and the regret of witnessing something that shouldn't have happened. And all these shoulds should be in quotes anyway. It did happen, and you can't change that. But because you are a good person, it bothers you that it happened in front of you because of the nature of it. Settle with that, and be at peace with it. That's my best advice.

[usernamenumber.livejournal.com]

remember that there is a difference between regret of something you should have done, and the regret of witnessing something that shouldn't have happened

I think I'm going to remember that quote for a very long time. Thanks.

[slyviolet.livejournal.com]

I hope it makes sense the way I worded it... It was something I had to come to kind of painfully and slowly, after a lot of guilt. So... if it helps, I am glad.