Barnardine's Pardon

In Shakespeare's Measure for Measure the character Barnardine is a convicted murderer sentenced to death. When his time comes to die, the executioner and the Duke (dressed as a friar) come to lead him to the gallows. Barnardine refuses to be hanged because he is drunk. They argue with him but he is resolute. He will not die. He finally goes back to his cell unchallenged. This is my creative response to the play for my Shakespeare class. In my play, he is pardoned but refuses to leave.

At lights up: inside the Vienna Prison. BARNARDINE sits on a bench with a beer stein. ABHORSON enters.

ABHORSON
Rise Barnardine. I have news.

BARNARDINE tries to stand but is so drunk, he cannot and he falls back onto the bench.

BARNARDINE
I cannot stand. I'm drunk. As you can see.

ABHORSON
Why are you constantly drunk?

BARNARDINE
Because I constantly drink.

ABHORSON
Well, stay seated then. I have news.

BARNARDINE
What news?

ABHORSON
You are to be set free.

BARNARDINE stands and comes forward. He catches himself on the bars.

BARNARDINE
What?

ABHORSON
It's true. The Duke, on the occasion of his return from abroad, has granted a general pardon to all the murderers, thieves and sex maniacs in Vienna.

BARNARDINE
That's amazing.

ABHORSON
Yes it is.

BARNARDINE
And I won't allow it.

ABHORSON
It's what?

BARNARDINE
Why should I go?

ABHORSON
Sir, you've been pardoned...from a sentence of death.

BARNARDINE
Did I ask to be pardoned? I tell you I will not accept.

ABHORSON
I'm afraid you have no choice. You must come out of the prison and walk away a free man.

BARNARDINE
I have been drinking all night. I'm not fit to walk away.

ABHORSON
But you must.

BARNARDINE
I won't. Do not return to me until you are ready to hang me.

ABHORSON
Sir, you are not to be hanged. You have been pardoned.

BARNARDINE
I tell you, I will be hanged and I will not leave here except with an undertaker.

ABHORSON
But sir...

BARNARDINE
This matter is closed. If you have any further news, I'll be on my bench, awaiting my hanging.

BARNARDINE stumbles back to his bench and lies down.

Lights down.

The Language of Policing

In 1066 AD, the British government fell to the French Speaking William the Conqueror at the Battle of Hastings. For the next three hundred years, the ruling class on the British Isles spoke French. Generally in world history, when a people is conquered, they will begin to speak the language of the ruling authority, as the Hellenistic Mediterranean has done before. The English working class however, simply refused. They would not speak or even learn French. Eventually, the French speaking gentry learned that if they wanted to sway their houses, they would have to learn the lingua franca and so a linguistic revolution occurred. For the first time ever, the rulers of a country had to start speaking the language of the ruled. Finally, with Charles II, the English once again had an English speaking ruler. Their nation had survived, in no small part because of the common person's refusal to accept the language (and thereby the nationality) of the conquering power.

What I am saying is; language is an important aspect of our identity. In an e-mail conversation with Christina, I mentioned that I would like someone to write a book on the grammar and language of the Police Department. You see, police officers have their own language. We have ways of talking to each other that the public does not understand. Ways of saying and writing things that take on a life of their own, based on our own needs in working together.

For example, we have a written language in our correspondence to one another via the MDC (mobile data computer, the thing that looks like a laptop in our cars). Here is a common conversation between my partner and I:

Me: 20?

Him: 23/Penn

Me: R/V?

Him: NRT.

Here is the translation:

Me: Where are you?

Him: NW 23rd and Pennsylvania.

Me: Would you like to meet at the convienence store at Reno and Villa?

Him: En route, which of course means, on my way.

It's a language based on common knowledge. When I ask "20?" he knows that it is an abbreviation of 10-20, the 10 code for "what is your location." When I ask "R/V?" he knows that I mean Reno and Villa because meeting there is a common experience for both of us. The brevity of our language comes from necessity. We are typing and driving at the same time (by which I mean that we are pulling over to type messages per departmental policy and best safe driving practices.)

The language that we have becomes part of our identity as police officers. It becomes part of our brotherhood, one more thing that sets us apart from society and makes us our own culture. Is it any wonder we take care of our own? Is it any wonder cops tend to have only cop friends and cop relationships and cop hang outs?

New York Still Waiting for Parade

I found a Sporting News magazine from 2004 in which Sprting News Radio host Arnie Spanier made the easy prediction that the Yankees would be the 2004 World Champions. This was, of course, the historic year of the Boston Red Sox. In celebration of another failed Yankees campaign, I am giving you my favorite passages, along with some gentle commentary.

Asking why the Yankees will win the World Series is like asking why Britney Spears is sexy.

Turns out neither one was accurate.

With Tom Gordon to help them to the ninth and Mariano Rivera to shut the door, they shouldn't have much trouble.

As we now know, it was Rivera's monumental blown save in game four that kept the Yankees from sweeping the Sox, and eventually from winning the Series.

Maybe the more important question is this: If not the Yankees then who? No A.L. team comes close to matching them.

I guess now we know. Of course, we should have known then that someone was atleast close. The Sox were I think, three games back (in 2005 the teams ended the season with an exact tie, the division went to the Yankess because they have beat the Sox one more time than the Sox had beat them...but back to '04). THe Yenks were hardly untouchable. Sfter all, the lost to the Indians 22-0 the last day of August in '04.

Nope, this is an easy one. Yankees fans, start planning the parade route!

No parade in '04. No parade in '05. No parade in '06. The payroll goes up, the result is the same. Good riddance Yanks.

And by the Way...Go Mets!

In way of expressing my loyalty for this playoff run:

Bill's Red Sox Article

My Father in law wrote this for the church bulletin where he preaches. This article was sent to Manny Ramirez by some church memeber who is I guess a mover and shaker in Beantown. Who knows if Manny ever read it (or personally saw it) but I thought I'd help get Bill out there for you all to read. Bill understands first hand (through dealing with me)the fanaticism of we Sox fans and our anchor in tradition.

Here is his article.

My daughter and I converted Jeff in 1999. He responded by converting us to the Boston Red Sox. Jeff has relatives in Boston, and he and Charissa got to visit there this past spring. They went to a Red Sox game at Fenway Park, saw the Green Monster, and exchanged greetings with the players as they stepped onto the field for practice. The closest thing in Texas to a devotion like the Red Sox is an Aggie football game. It’s all about tradition. And friendship. And the pain of disappointment. Marty Nolan, an editor for the Boston Globe describes it with an oft-repeated quote, “They killed my father, and now they’re coming after me.”
Jeff loaned me a book by David Halberstam, The Teammates, about the enduring 60-year friendship between Red Sox greats Bobby Doerr, Dominic DiMaggio, Johnny Pesky and Ted Williams. Of the four, Williams was the most bombastic and difficult to live with. He was always argumentative, and was always right. Only Doerr seemed able to calm him down and correct him when he was wrong—in his swing, at least. That’s what “friends who stick closer than brothers” do.
As I read the book, I’m touched by the devotion and affection these men had for each other. They shared a love of the sport, and of their team. Only Pesky of the four ever wore another uniform than the Red Sox, late in his career. Friendships such as that shared by these greats are rare indeed; it’s why Halberstam’s book was a big seller. Rarer still is the loyalty to just one team, in the modern age of free agencies and huge salaries.
I find much to admire in their stories. And in the love and familial spirit shown by Red Sox fans. Wherever I wear my Navy blue cap with the big red “B” on it, Sox fans greet me. It’s to them like finding family far from home. One can’t be a casual Red Sox fan in the same way one can be a Braves fan, yet like the Indians or the Mets. A Sox fan is grounded in tradition. He or she remembers Ted Williams .406 season in 1941—the last year anyone batted over .400 in the Major Leagues. Though grounded in tradition, they are not chained to it. They shower their love on Manny Ramirez, David “Big Papi” Ortiz, Kevin Youkilis and Coco Crisp. On several different levels, they’re everything Christians should be.
Red Sox fans can teach Christians lessons on love, loyalty and zeal. Paul said “Let love be genuine; hate what is evil, hold fast to what is good; love one another with mutual affection; outdo one another in showing honor. Do not lag in zeal, be ardent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in suffering, persevere in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints; extend hospitality to strangers.” –from Romans 12:9-12, NRSV.
If we as a church can get a handle on this, maybe we’ll be as good at being Christians as the Red Sox are at being fans.

Trooper William McClendon End of Watch:10-1-06

From ODMP:

Trooper William McClendon was killed his patrol car collided with a tractor trailer rig on the Will Rogers Turnpike near Claremore. Trooper McClendon died about 1:20 PM from his injuries. The tractor-trailer driver was also injured and was taken by helicopter to a Tulsa hospital, where he died from his injuries.