Tag Archives: criminal

Alibi

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alibi: (n) a claim or a piece of evidence that someone was elsewhere when a criminal act is alleged to have taken place.

I think I have only talked to a policeman about four or five different times in my life. Isn’t that weird?

I have avoided these encounters because quite bluntly, I don’t like them. It’s not personal, or a disrespect for the profession. It’s more the realization that putting oneself in jeopardy of being questioned or challenged is a great way to eventually fall off the cliff, onto the rocks of stupidity.

On those few occasions when I have been stopped by a policeman for a traffic violation, or to ask me if I’ve seen something on the road as I’ve traveled, my profile is always simple: don’t talk too much. Limit answers to less than eight words and make the policeman draw out the information instead of fumbling around, trying to come up with an alibi to display how it would be impossible for me to have been a participant in anything gone awry.

Here’s the truth: the more we speak, the guiltier we become.

You see this watching any cop show or movie. If a suspect is glib, full of unrequired information, you pretty well assume he’s the culprit.

So even though I have never hurt or killed anyone, if I was questioned on the subject, I would not be in any hurry to establish my alibi or explain my whereabouts, nor seem surprised that the inquiry was being made in the frist place.

I remember the first time I heard the spiritual sung, “Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?”

After the musical question was posed for the first time, I simply stopped singing and said … “No.”

Aka

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

 

Aka: (abbr.) also known as: e.g.John Merrick, aka the Elephant Man

J. R. Practix.

That’s the name on my birth certificate.

But during a brief season of playing football, I was aka “Big Jon.” Matter of fact, through high school, I was “just Jon, without an h”. I often joked that I selected the name because I wanted to “get the h outta there.” Some people thought that was funny.

  • A tiny handful knew me as “the music guy.”
  • There were those in my town who acquainted my personage with “deadbeat.”
  • Aka “Daddy,” which became “Dad”–and on more formal occasions is even announced, “my Father.”
  • Aka “Studly,” even though that was used so infrequently that I’m embarrassed to bring it up, but still, willing to propagate the myth.
  • Aka “Composer.”
  • Aka “Vagabond.”
  • Aka “Writer.”
  • Aka “Preacher”–though I was never actually able to embody the look or attributes of a parson.
  • Aka “Musician”–though I must bow my head in the presence of the true clerics of chords.

Then came grandchildren. So …

  • Aka “G-Pop.”
  • Three of my sons were adopted in my heart as god-children, and they chose to refer to me as “Pop.”
  • Aka “Husband.”
  • Aka “Lover” (in generous moments by forgiving females)
  • Aka “Business man” (unless you look at my books)
  • Aka “Traveler” (Just check my odometer)
  • Aka “Human being,” of which I am most proud.

I realize today that I have so many names associated with me that if I had a driver’s license to match each one, I would look like a criminal on the lam.

And speaking of lamb, I recommend it … with mint jelly.

 

Adjudicate

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Adjudicate: (v) make a formal judgment or decision about a dispute

Courts freak me out.

I suppose there are very few people, except lawyers who make $750 an hour, who find them appealing. I guess a judge might enjoy the atmosphere, since he or she gets to wear the robes. But if you’re not making the bucks or not getting to judge, that particular arena can seem like the Coliseum in Rome on a lions-chomping-Christians mid-afternoon.

I sometimes think about the fact that even though I am a law-abiding citizen, toeing the line and trying to be faithful to my responsibilities and as honest as I can possibly be, I do realize that if someone had a vendetta against me, they could probably dig up something which could be misconstrued as criminal.

Isn’t that weird?

Sometimes in life, it’s not the piss in the pot that gets you in trouble, but rather, who you piss off.

About seventeen years ago, I took three children into my home. They were going through a rough time with their father, who certainly had some difficulties and struggles, and was not treating them up to par. I thought I was being generous. Damn–I thought I was being Christian. I thought I was helping a lady out, who was being abused, and her children, who were being somewhat neglected.

But this fellow took the legal system and used it against me, making up stories and twisting situations to get those in authority to adjudicate against me, forcing me into a courtroom to explain my actions.

As his lawyer sat in that room accusing me of everything except the Kennedy assassination, I realized how fragile we all are, and how we should never become so arrogant as to believe that our actions could not possibly be viewed as questionable.

So even though this gentleman was proven to be a charlatan, I still had to go through a grilling process which made me empathetic to a two-inch sirloin steak.

So what is my point?

None, really.

It’s just that legalities are filled with so much legalism that no one could ever escape if the law was determined to get them.

That’s why I tip my hat to policemen, stay away from downtown areas where there are lions sitting next to lots of steps in front of courtrooms, and I try to keep all of my disagreements simple, discussed and resolved.

Because if I ever started being adjudicated … I don’t know how well I’d hold up.

 

Accomplice

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Accomplice: (n.) a person who helps another person commit a crime.

I have a piercing memory of the word “accomplice.”  In this recollection, I see the crimson cheeks of an angry principal at a high school, huffing at me, insisting that I was a criminal and that I had turned my ten-year-old little brother into an accomplice to my law-breaking.

At the time I believed that he was overwrought, but I was still intimidated by the dramatics.

You see, what happened was that I was supposed to get into the high school to set up some equipment for a performance. When I arrived, the janitor had not showed up. Being sixteen years of age, I patiently waited four minutes and then began to figure out the best way to enter the school without breaking glass or brick.

Someone had told me there was a window down near the back staircase where the boiler room was located which was always open, although it was extremely small and difficult to enter. Fortunately for me, I had brought my little brother who was more than willing to be on an adventure with his cooler older sibling.

I had no trouble finding the window and as promised, it was open. But there was no way in any kind of physical world of my awareness that I would be able to get MY frame through the tiny hole.

On the other hand, my little brother fit perfectly.

Here was the problem: the inside of the room where my little brother would be entering was dark, so it was impossible to determine how FAR it was from the window to the floor beneath. This did not deter me. After all, what good is a ten-year-old brother if not for experimentation?

So I lowered him through the window, holding his hand and reaching down as far as I could to suspend him. He whined up at me, “I still don’t feel the floor…”

My thought was, how much further could it BE? So I yelled back, “Hang on!”

And then I let go of his hand and he dropped.

Now, this younger brother was not a good athlete. He hit the floor hard, fell back and bumped his head on a nearby metal something-or-other. (After all, it was dark. Who could know?) He was dazed but was able to get to his feet, stumble up the stairs and open the door for me to enter.

But I didn’t consider that when the janitor DID arrive, he would be curious about how I entered the school without his key. I attempted a creative lie on the spot, but honestly, needed more time.

So I found myself standing in front of a screaming educator who wanted to impress on me that I was a renegade and a rascal and had involved my brother, making him an accomplice in this hideous crime.

Even though I did not believe it was nearly as serious as the principal insisted, I have since refused to participate in such capers and have never, to my knowledge, made anyone else an accomplice to my misdeeds.

That is, unless you want to count my wife–and the four mischievous sons we conjured.

Abrasive

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abrasive: (adj.): 1. a substance capable of polishing or cleaning a hard surface by rubbing or grinding. 2. rough to the ear; harsh 3. showing little concern for the feelings of others; harsh in mannerism.

“King George is a tyrant.” At one time that would have been an abrasive statement.

“Slaves should be free.”  If you had said that in Congress in 1851, you’d have been dubbed abrasive.

“I love rock and roll.” Try that one in 1961 America.

“The Vietnam War is criminal.” You would certainly have been considered abrasive in 1967.

“Black people should have the right to vote.” There are probably STILL some folks who think that’s abrasive.

“Women should be allowed to be executives in the workplace.” Once again, that one will polish a rough surface or two.

We throw words around like “abrasive” to discourage people from saying things “untoward” in mixed company.” (We say words like “untoward” when we have not yet arrived in this present century.)

Abrasive is a tough one. Often there are many things that need to be shared, pointed out and even shouted from the housetops, which are just NOT in the present mindset of the popular thinking. But if they’re not said, they can’t be heard and if they can’t be heard, the faith to change things for the better is never launched.

So how do I know when I’m abrasive? Honestly, that one’s pretty simple to me. If I’m saying something because I was personally offended or if I have a hankering to offend somebody else just for the hell of it, you can pretty well guarantee–it’s abrasive.

But words that are said to cry out for freedom, purpose and to protect the innocent may not always be received well, but historically, they will never be proclaimed abrasive.

Perhaps it would take an angel to discern all the subtleties in that process.

Perhaps we need a few more angels.