Street Justice

Posted by John

Every now and then you will find yourself in a situation where you have to take matters into your own hands. Not necessarily in a violent way, rather just in a way that gets things done. You can’t anticipate these situations, you just have to be on a constant vigil and be ready for anything. When this happens – when you are called upon to act – it can be referred to as many things but it’s most simply known by two words: Street Justice.

Street Justice I

The other night I was in the back half of the house when I heard the wife, who was in the front half, scream out, “Oh my god! Someone just hit my car!”

“What!” I yelled back.

“Someone just hit my goddamn car!”

Immediately one thought went racing through my head: “Ahh, shit! It’s time for some street justice!!!” Right away I grabbed a flashlight and the baseball bat that’s conveniently located next to the night stand, “Oh yeah, it’s definitely time for some street justice!”

But I paused for just a second to consider what I was about to do. I mean honestly, if it was a hit and run, what was I going to do? Chase after the car and beat it mercilessly into submission with the bat? Or worse yet, what if it wasn’t a hit and run? What if it was just some old lady with nightblindness who stopped her car after the hit and was getting out to survey the damage? Then I come bursting out the front door of my house violently waving a baseball bat above my head, screaming something about street justice; then what? Not only would our car be wrecked but then some old lady’s intestines would be spilt out all over the ground after I scared the bowels right out of her abdomen. No one wants to deal with that.

So cooler heads prevailed and I set the bat down. But I still went tearing out the front door with a flashlight and let me tell you, this was the brightest flashlight known to man. Seriously, it could stir Edison from his grave. If you don’t have an LED flashlight yet you need to get one. I’m not sure if it’s powered by battery or nuclear fusion, it’s that bright.

It turns out Sara’s car had in fact been hit. The girlfriend of our neighbor across the street backed out of his driveway directly into it the back fender of Sara’s car. It also turns out that the baseball bat wasn’t necessary because she’d already spilled her bowels onto the ground out of guilt and embarrassment for her stupidity. She was overly apologetic and kept saying, “I don’t even know what to do here.” Oh, I’ll tell you what you do: First you get some karate chops to your face courtesy of me, then you pay us some fucking money to fix our car. It’s called street justice, baby!  

As it turns out there was barely any damage to either car, just some scratches to the paint and nothing to get upset about so we called it a wash and let her off the hook. Still, I couldn’t help but think about the situation from the girl’s perspective and laugh: She’s backing out of the driveway after watching some American Idol and making out with her boyfriend only to unwittingly run into someone else’s car, then all the sudden before she can even get out of her vehicle there is some bearded maniac racing across the yard waving a flashlight like he’s doing an interpretive dance of God on the first day of creation and he’s got this crazed look in his eyes like if he had a baseball bat he’d beat her face in. Maybe she didn’t get an official dose of street justice but I guarantee she’ll never back into our car again.

Street Justice II

The other night we went to a little bar here in town to listen to some bluegrass. It was an amazing experience and a great time. Now, anyone who knows me will find it hard to believe I was out listening to bluegrass. The truth is, I’m just barely getting into it so I can’t even call myself a fan of the genre, but I can say it sure is fun music, especially live.

The thing about bluegrass is though, there is absolutely no irony, figurative language, metaphor, or analogy in the music whatsoever. For instance, when Flatt & Scruggs sing Blue Ridge Cabin Home they are literally singing about a cabin in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Maybe that cabin doesn’t exist in reality but the cabin isn’t a metaphor for something else; it’s literally just a cabin in the mountains.

Not to belittle the genre at all, in fact I’m citing this as evidence that it is just a fun, whimsical type of music. Anyone can understand and enjoy a bluegrass song and in fact just about anyone can write one. All you have to do is mention your home state, the house you grew up in, which should be on top of a mountain or in a valley, mention your mama and daddy, then throw in something that is unquestionably country like corn, or trucks, or whiskey. Here, I’ll write a bluegrass song right now:

Oh, I feel so far from my country home

The home of my mama and daddy

So far from the mountains I used to roam

Oh, I miss my home in sweet Hawaii

In my truck on that old dirt trail

Up in the hills and down to the valley

Past the fields of corn all in a bale

Just a-sippin’ some moonshine in Waikiki

See, they don’t even know what bluegrass is in Hawaii and most bluegrass fans don’t even know Hawaii is a state, but I just wrote a song about it.

That’s not the point of this though. The point is, we were out listening to some bluegrass the other night when I went to the bar to settle a tab and some dude shoved me in my back. It wasn’t like a little bump or anything, he shoved me hard enough that I stumbled forward and had to maneuver to keep my balance. As soon as it happened there was one thought on my mind, “Ahh, shit! Somebody’s gettin’ a dose of street justice tonight!”

When I turned around I was mad as a hornet and I must have looked like a rabid mongoose because the guy just about emptied his bowels right there. It turns out it’s not because he was afraid of me; it was because he mistook me for someone else. “Oh man, I am so sorry! I thought you were someone else!” he apologized profusely. What? Somebody else? What is wrong with you? You know what, I’ll tell you what’s wrong with you – you need a little street justice in your face right now. 

Alas, I didn’t administer and street justice but seriously, who goes around shoving strangers in a bar? And actually, what kind of person tries to greet their friend by pushing his face into a bar? Worse yet, what kind of person goes around shoving people that he isn’t 100% sure are friends of his? Honestly? Who does that? I think I was just more flabbergasted than anything. “Oh, hey, sorry – I thought you were someone else I know that looks drunk and homeless.” Who does that?

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Come to think of it, sometimes street justice is best administered with a baseball bat and some fists, but sometimes street justice is just self-administered, especially when someone is a complete dumbass. So in conclusion – you should be constantly vigilant and always at the ready whenever you might be called into action, and sometimes that action is just making sure you personally don’t do anything like a dumbass.