James Madison Meets Thomas Edison

It’s a stalemate.  Friday on my lunch break.  She won’t take my money.  I won’t leave without paying.  I have to be in Chicago Monday morning to meet with Moodys and Standard and Poors, so I’ll miss the counter demonstration at West High.  The idea to use a traffic message board in lieu of the handmade signs I’d prepared was well received when I first called, so I’m handing off a few phrases to program into the device.

Please leave.  Falcons Rule.  Love Wins.  DPort Don’t Hate.  Eight letters on two lines is what I have to play with.  Some four-letter words pop into my head quickly and divide into eight rather neatly, but we’re better than those words, so I chose others.   

The stalemate continues.  Given my job, I can’t accept a favor, even when I’m doing something that isn’t part of my job.  People can’t separate who I am and what I do.  Having been in the city manager profession for more of my life than not, I’m not sure I can either.  The office manager at the rental company tells me her five sons have served in the military and she doesn’t have to say much more about why she won’t accept payment for renting the message board.  Spewing hate at a military funeral is about as low as free speech can sink.

Some advise to ignore the visitors from Topeka.  You want to shout on a sidewalk at a place of worship to demonstrate your religion is better?  Well, good luck with that.  But if you’re here to disrupt the funeral of someone who died to protect our freedom or have come to our town to preach hatred to our school kids, those are crossed lines that require community action.  

Finally, a breach in the stalemate.  It’s not payment for the sign rental, it’s a donation to the Wounded Warriors Project.  That works for everyone involved.  The small moral drama within the larger moral drama ends.

Thanks to all who showed up Monday.