A Playlist Series
American Crisis Playlist #43
It’s alright, Ma, I’m only…
You might think that the bleeding has stopped. Former and now disgraced Minneapolis police officer Derek Chauvin was found guilty this week in the killing (lynching?) of George Floyd. I’d breathe a sigh of relief, but I’d rather accent that I CAN breathe, and for most of my life, have been able to do so without worry that if I do something wrong (I never intentionally passed bad checks, though I didn’t always check to count the total funds in the account on which I was drawing!) I’ll be stopped, arrested, and forced to lie on a city street until the ones apprehending me decide that I’m no longer much of a threat.
The sentencing is still to come, but I’m thinking that for the next 30 or 40 years, Chauvin ought to be kept in some little room, his TV set to eternal “Play,” while an endless loop of the last ten minutes of George Floyd’s life courses past his eyes at maximum volume. With maybe a five-minute break every three hours to use the facilities, knowing what awaits him upon his return.
And then, there’s the case of Blake Bailey, someone who should be held down until he confesses all he’s done. Not that I want anyone to put his knee on Bailey’s throat for nine minutes, but I wish he had to face all the women he’s harmed and atone to them…
