It can be a mindbender flying into New York City from the Philippines. It has been a long held observation of mine that people are the most polite when everybody openly carries weaponry. For example, you will very rarely see or hear voices raised on Mindanao. If someone has a real problem with you it is usually addressed by two men riding tandem on the same motorcycle, the man on the rear being the one pointing a 45 at your face. They do send warnings in text messages but they generally are meant to terrorise you and yours because once you get that text an attack is all but guaranteed.
In New York, on the other hand, even bus drivers will call you a motherfucker if you take too long getting on and off. Loud arguing is so common place as to be boring to onlookers and fistfights are also commonplace over such trivial issues as cueing up to order takeaway. There was a time when I allowed myself to be sucked into stupid fights. All that changed on a visit here in 2009.
A Puerto Rican man was walking outside Madison Square Garden in Midtown, Manhattan one morning on his way to work. By chance he brushed up against a young blackman walking in the opposite direction. Words were exchanged and the black man pulled out a small pocketknife and quickly stabbed the Puerto Rican man to death.
Because it happened in Midtown the incident was deemed newsworthy enough so that the media pressure compelled the police to launch a manhunt. Three days later a black woman in Philadelphia, two hours south of New York, phoned police saying that her ex-boyfriend had shown up at her door unexpectedly and in great distress. By chance she had seen a newscast in which the crime was discussed and a CCTV image of her ex was used as the backdrop. Convincing the man that she needed to go to a neighbourhood grocery she instead phoned the police.
As police moved into position around the young woman's rowhouse they heard a loud report from a pistol. The young man had offed himself, compounding the tragedy that he himself caused.
Well, that incident set me to thinking about my own aggressive behavior. I promised myself that I would act as I did when I manned, and later commanded IDF Checkpoints. We always had provacateurs who played for the media, so called "Activists" who, hoping to provoke violent responses, often went so far as to spit in our faces. Of course when we arrested them and drove away from the cameras they were almost always peeing on themselves, but that is neither here nor there.
To date I have managed to control myself to a very high degree. One exception was the day my father died. I received the phone call at around 8AM, and per Jewish Law his burial was scheduled for 4PM at the Syrian Jewish Cemetery in Deal, New Jersey. I was sitting on a bench outside Patterson Houses, a project on Willis Avenue here in the South Bronx, as I waited for a couple of my brothers to pick me up.
As I sat on the bench, deep in thought, a black Housing employee, a porter, sprayed me with water from a garden hose, drenching a 900 Dollar Kenneth Cole suit. As I turned around I saw him laughing almost to the point of collapse with a fellow porter. I didnt want to miss my father's burial so I just stared so as to remember his face. After making my brothers wait as I put on another suit, we went to New Jersey.
The following Monday, six days later, I was in jeans and a teeshirt, basically unrecognisable from the day of the burial. I waited down the block from the Patterson Houses employee entrance and watched the asshole leave. I tailed him and by Wednesday I knew where he lived, who lived with him but needed a few days more to get his after work routine down pat. Most people are oblivious, keeping to static routines and in doing so make themselves extremely vulnerable.
As to what followed, Im not sure as to the Statute of Limitations and therefore will leave that dangling in the air. I will admit that I made a huge faux paux by personalising my response instead of maintaining detached objectivity, but I had unresolved issues with my father and used that imbecile as a scapegoat.
My rule now is, as long as me and mine are not in imminent danger, I wont even react, with the sole exception being anyone challenging me and mine in and around my home because if you allow even a bit of disrespect I have learned that aggressors will continuously up the ante. An example: I was walking with Lovely on the beach by her home and some guys in their early 20s made some rude comments. Anywhere else and I reckon I would laugh. However, near her home I have to maintain boundries or maybe next time they touch her, or start sniffing around her home. I pistol whipped bigmouth and the other two actually ran.
To show I really have changed though, yesterday I was in CVS, a chain pharmacy, waiting online to make a purchase. There were two lines. I was last on mine, with two customers in front of me. On the second line, a big muscle bound black guy was behind a lone customer. A third register opened and the cashier announced next on line. I stepped over and of course, as is a given, the black man began whining:
Black: Yo, I suppose you just didn't see me standing here...
Rachamim: I saw you but I also saw that you are next on line... but if you would like to go in front of me, please, by all means...
B: Nah, you just gonna step up like I dont exist right? I aint even here right?
R: I already offered to let you go
B: (repeats his mantra ad naseum)
R: Whatever, leave me the fuck alone (said in the same calm monotone that I always use in such exchanges)
B: What mothafucka?!? What you do if I step to you and knock you the fuck out?!?
R: (in monotone) I wouldnt do a thing but call the police and sue CVS so by all means, do it
B: What????!!!??? Call the fucken po-leees?!? ( incredulously)
(onlookers giggling)
R: Absolutely, I wont raise a finger, I could always use more money so please do it (black remained shocked, not saying anything, I turned around and completed my purchase)
I will admit that I could not leave well enough alone and as I exited the store I cut between him-still waiting-and the customer in front of him as if to provoke him. I also would not have allowed him to touch me but it was a major improvement in how I handle such situations. I am personally disgusted with men who provoke fights with people much smaller. I am 5'8", he was roughly 6'4" & bulked up...I love fighting such assholes but as I get older I hope that I am getting wiser.
In New York, on the other hand, even bus drivers will call you a motherfucker if you take too long getting on and off. Loud arguing is so common place as to be boring to onlookers and fistfights are also commonplace over such trivial issues as cueing up to order takeaway. There was a time when I allowed myself to be sucked into stupid fights. All that changed on a visit here in 2009.
A Puerto Rican man was walking outside Madison Square Garden in Midtown, Manhattan one morning on his way to work. By chance he brushed up against a young blackman walking in the opposite direction. Words were exchanged and the black man pulled out a small pocketknife and quickly stabbed the Puerto Rican man to death.
Because it happened in Midtown the incident was deemed newsworthy enough so that the media pressure compelled the police to launch a manhunt. Three days later a black woman in Philadelphia, two hours south of New York, phoned police saying that her ex-boyfriend had shown up at her door unexpectedly and in great distress. By chance she had seen a newscast in which the crime was discussed and a CCTV image of her ex was used as the backdrop. Convincing the man that she needed to go to a neighbourhood grocery she instead phoned the police.
As police moved into position around the young woman's rowhouse they heard a loud report from a pistol. The young man had offed himself, compounding the tragedy that he himself caused.
Well, that incident set me to thinking about my own aggressive behavior. I promised myself that I would act as I did when I manned, and later commanded IDF Checkpoints. We always had provacateurs who played for the media, so called "Activists" who, hoping to provoke violent responses, often went so far as to spit in our faces. Of course when we arrested them and drove away from the cameras they were almost always peeing on themselves, but that is neither here nor there.
To date I have managed to control myself to a very high degree. One exception was the day my father died. I received the phone call at around 8AM, and per Jewish Law his burial was scheduled for 4PM at the Syrian Jewish Cemetery in Deal, New Jersey. I was sitting on a bench outside Patterson Houses, a project on Willis Avenue here in the South Bronx, as I waited for a couple of my brothers to pick me up.
As I sat on the bench, deep in thought, a black Housing employee, a porter, sprayed me with water from a garden hose, drenching a 900 Dollar Kenneth Cole suit. As I turned around I saw him laughing almost to the point of collapse with a fellow porter. I didnt want to miss my father's burial so I just stared so as to remember his face. After making my brothers wait as I put on another suit, we went to New Jersey.
The following Monday, six days later, I was in jeans and a teeshirt, basically unrecognisable from the day of the burial. I waited down the block from the Patterson Houses employee entrance and watched the asshole leave. I tailed him and by Wednesday I knew where he lived, who lived with him but needed a few days more to get his after work routine down pat. Most people are oblivious, keeping to static routines and in doing so make themselves extremely vulnerable.
As to what followed, Im not sure as to the Statute of Limitations and therefore will leave that dangling in the air. I will admit that I made a huge faux paux by personalising my response instead of maintaining detached objectivity, but I had unresolved issues with my father and used that imbecile as a scapegoat.
My rule now is, as long as me and mine are not in imminent danger, I wont even react, with the sole exception being anyone challenging me and mine in and around my home because if you allow even a bit of disrespect I have learned that aggressors will continuously up the ante. An example: I was walking with Lovely on the beach by her home and some guys in their early 20s made some rude comments. Anywhere else and I reckon I would laugh. However, near her home I have to maintain boundries or maybe next time they touch her, or start sniffing around her home. I pistol whipped bigmouth and the other two actually ran.
To show I really have changed though, yesterday I was in CVS, a chain pharmacy, waiting online to make a purchase. There were two lines. I was last on mine, with two customers in front of me. On the second line, a big muscle bound black guy was behind a lone customer. A third register opened and the cashier announced next on line. I stepped over and of course, as is a given, the black man began whining:
Black: Yo, I suppose you just didn't see me standing here...
Rachamim: I saw you but I also saw that you are next on line... but if you would like to go in front of me, please, by all means...
B: Nah, you just gonna step up like I dont exist right? I aint even here right?
R: I already offered to let you go
B: (repeats his mantra ad naseum)
R: Whatever, leave me the fuck alone (said in the same calm monotone that I always use in such exchanges)
B: What mothafucka?!? What you do if I step to you and knock you the fuck out?!?
R: (in monotone) I wouldnt do a thing but call the police and sue CVS so by all means, do it
B: What????!!!??? Call the fucken po-leees?!? ( incredulously)
(onlookers giggling)
R: Absolutely, I wont raise a finger, I could always use more money so please do it (black remained shocked, not saying anything, I turned around and completed my purchase)
I will admit that I could not leave well enough alone and as I exited the store I cut between him-still waiting-and the customer in front of him as if to provoke him. I also would not have allowed him to touch me but it was a major improvement in how I handle such situations. I am personally disgusted with men who provoke fights with people much smaller. I am 5'8", he was roughly 6'4" & bulked up...I love fighting such assholes but as I get older I hope that I am getting wiser.
