I'm outchere ya feel me...

As this morning interrupted last night, I decided to venture outside for the weather as I usually do. Let’s face it; the weather man gets paid to take an educated guess, leading me to believe that he's using too much art in his science. After reconciling the morning's early arrival with the night’s late departure, I head to the bodega for some Vitamin water. As usual, a gathering of men the old and the young in various places in the economic structure greeted me. In the midst of salutations, because that’s what you do here when cross paths with other people, I noticed that one of the guys on the corner was a neighborhood acquaintance that I hadn't seen in some time. As we begin to exchange Katrina stories because life before that has become a blur for everyone that was directly affected by it, I dared to note the white elephant in the room asking him what he was doing these days. It was obvious to both of us what the answer is, but I just couldn't fight the urge to look past what I saw & hope that I was wrong. As I did my best to make sure my face said I understand even though I didn't, he didn't bother to acknowledge his first thought, and skipped immediately to the second. "Look people, I'm outchere ya feel me, I gotta get me."

That sentence summed up the moment, his reality, & rattled my resolve all in space of time that occupied him exhaling his cigarette. I’ve never so quickly run through despair, torment, anger, frustration, and pride in all my days. There is a sense of pride that comes from working and providing for yourself the necessities of your existence. Even though his line of work is certainly controversial, it doesn’t diminish the pride that he feels. So often this illustrious American society that we have all grown to regard with contempt regards the young men who are involved in the unregulated markets of vice with utter disdain. These men are as much human as the very people whom are the victims of the violence that is their lifestyle. The inherent abuse that makes our economy run has become so ingrained in our day to day experience that we have trouble understanding why someone would lash out in frustration seek to turn the pain they’re feeling on whomever they can exercise some degree of power over.

The greater question, I suppose, is why do industries that cater to vice do so well?? Outside of the obvious answer, it being vice and people seeking out what they find pleasurable, why is that regulated (taxed) vice (tobacco, gambling, alcohol, Asian health spas, fast food) which in plenty instances negatively impact communities and families is fine, but urban pharmacist are singled out as the source of all of societies problems?? Let’s be clear, I don’t condone dealing drugs (legal or not), it makes for a hostile environment to call home, it scars children for life, and it takes advantage of people at their lowest point. It just amazes me that some of the very causes for the fundamental problems in American society are given a citation because they provide jobs and give all people the potential to realize the American Dream while possession of >1g of crack guarantees 20+ yrs of incarceration.