Hooligans

This is a view of a dry wash in my neighborhood. In some parts this would be called a creek, but since it normally is dry, we call it a wash or an arroyo, a Spanish word meaning stream, more or less. These are natural drainageways the city built around. Several days of rain have given us this welcome change. The vegetation is mostly palo verde and mesquite trees. (click to enlarge) On a less sane note, if you google the word hooligan you will find that it means soccer thugs, or football thugs to the Europeans. In the lexicon of Merle, hooligan is applied to anyone who annoys me with uncivilized behavior. Which brings me to today's "Hooligan Report". I read in the paper today that two hooligans broke into a church near here and destroyed the interior of the place. They broke windows, doors, smashed a computer, threw food from the kitchen all over walls and floors. They destroyed musical instuments, tore up religious materials and in all, caused $50,000 in damage. The two 17 year-olds were apprehended in the act. The question is what to do with them? As an aside, the news report never used the word hate-crime. This is a Christian church, so hate towards it is offically excused. Had it been a Muslim congregation, my-oh-my, what would we do? In the good old US of A these two lowlifes will get off scot-free because we are so sensitive. Several decades of liberal policies have robbed us of the will to respond appropriately to adolescent misbehavior. I think Singapore's policy of caning the little monsters would serve us well. But that's just me. Instead, we turn the other cheek. Then we have the case of the cretin at the mall. I took Sneedlet to play at the mall playground today. The rule is that you must be 6 or under to use this facility. There were three 10 to 12 year-olds standing on top of the equipment and leaping as far as they could. Three 60 lb bodies hurling through the air. We also had 50 toddlers racing around. This was a disaster waiting to happen. One of the moms told the three big kids to stop jumping and that they were too old to be in the playground. Their punk father, a 40ish short man with an attitude told them to tell her they were 5 and a half and to mind her own business. A confrontation in the making. What to do? Do I butt in and risk short man making a big scene or worse yet take a swing at me? Not a chance. I got the mall security guy to interevene. Security told short guy that he and his brood would have to leave. He, of course, wasn't about to let the security guy tell him what to do, so he told the kids to sit down and he refused to leave. His position was he could sit in the play area if he wished to, so long as the kids didn't play. Every jackass knows his rights. The security guy hung around him until short guy tired of the charade and left. Another jackass for the world to have to deal with. Public flogging, I tell you, is the answer. The night before last, some miscreant pulled up two of my nice yard lights and smashed one to smithereens in the street. A little creep like this needs to pay and pay with the hide of his butt. I say we need a public beating for the little hyena. It's time for them to turn the other cheek, butt cheek, that is. Merle. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong and sometimes just full of it. Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor