I’m beginning to lose faith in human beings…
First, I’m fighting a losing battle against ignorance - the manager of the Cumberland Island National Seashore has proposed that the feral horses be removed from the island in some humane way. The herd isn’t healthy, they do terrible things to the delicate ecology of the preserve, they aren’t any sort of unique genotype or endangered anything. People are losing their minds about the horses and how they “belong” on the island. (No, they were introduced a couple of centuries ago, and they’re as much a nuisance as feral hogs on an island ecosystem, dammit.) People are actually arguing that eastern equine encephalitis and West Nile virus and intestinal blockages and malnutrition aren’t so bad, keep the horsies! Schmucks. (Frankly, I think that the only way it’s gonna happen is to sterilize the herd and let them die out. The last time this sort of thing was proposed, our estimable US Representative blocked any action by adding a rider to an unrelated bill. Because he’s a schmuck. But the park service is tasked with preserving this island, in its natural state. So the horses and the hogs really have to go. No one gets sentimental about Wilbur, because bacon is delicious, but horsies are special!)
And then I learn that an old and dear acquaintance of mine - an absolute pillar of the college town that I love - a lovely, eccentric, wonderful old man, has been jailed without bond for violating probation. His original offense? He needed (help) to clean his yard and carport - local civil code violation. He has been working hard, with help as available, to make that happen, but right now he’s sitting in jail until something can be arranged. How in the Wide Wide World of Sports does it help to put a 66-year-old man on probation, and then jail him, versus, say, hooking him up with social services? I will be calling the district attorney’s office in the morning, along with probably dozens or hundreds of other outraged people who love that weird old man. Might not help, but who knows? (An attorney has already stepped forward and taken his case, pro bono, thank goodness. Otherwise, I believe that legions of us would be storming the jail at the earliest opportunity.)
Tonight’s final straw, though, was learning through a local consumer’s group that some goat felching bastard had sneaked into a family’s back yard today and stolen the contents of the deep freezer on the back porch. The victim of the theft actually posted on social media to thank the city police officer who came to take the report - he’d been very courteous and professional, and had taken an extra few minutes to let the 3-year-old sit in his patrol car and such. But when I saw the girl’s profile photo, and the mention of a small child, I sent a private message - could she afford to replace that food and feed her family? Turns out? Five children under age seven, including special needs/triplets. Husband had worked 20 hours overtime last week so that they could stock up the freezer.
Who steals food from little children?! (I know - thieves. Thieving bastards. Goat felching sons of bitches.)
At least she lives nearby. We don’t have a lot, but I have a full freezer. Wish I could offer to share filet mignon, but I can share enough chicken and ground beef and pork chops and such to get them through to payday. (I’m taking Tony with me to drop off the food, too, so that he can offer advice on securing the yard and freezer. As a mama, I’d be as worried about my children’s security as the food!)
People. I’d like to have more faith in them, but they aren’t giving me much to work with today.
