Public Content Warning: This article contains rock solid facts, strong opinions, ample portions of exaggeration and Irish blarney only suitable for those who are 18 or older possessing an open mind, sense of humor, and burning desire to be exposed to a thought provoking alternative view of life without getting angry. The graphic image contained in this article is suitable for mature audiences only.
After president-elect Donald Trump’s surprising victory, the man in the photo, identified only as Hector, became fearful he would be deported back to the City of Lakewood where renters are going to be subject to warrantless searches in their private rental homes in what Hector feels is equivalent to a violation of his Fourth Amendment Rights.
With the threat of deportation and rental inspections hanging over his head, Hector threatened suicide by leaping to his death.
I was able to talk Hector down by explaining that he cannot reliably commit the classic 1929, stock market crash, jump out the window style suicide, in the City of Lakewood because Lakewood’s buildings, unlike New York and Chicago, are too short.
I am reminded of what my dad, Bill Boyle, who was the lover of wisdom, taught me. “Joe. It is not the fall that kills you. It is the sudden stop.”
I explained to Hector that because this particular window was less than two feet off the ground, all he could expect would be a twisted ankle and a pair of muddy purple socks. Hector, never having committed suicide before, did not possess a clear view of how window-suicide works and therefore found my words most illuminating.
The neighbors within view of the jumper, who spend all their spare time watching reality TV, expected and demanded some live action. They chanted loudly, “Jump Hector, jump.”
This window jumping discussion reminds me of the time in 1962 when I jumped out a window and lived to tell about it. I was in my Puyallup High School physics class. My teacher, Mr. Prevost, asked me to explain the wave theory. He then turned around to face the blackboard with chalk in hand to record my answer.
If I may digress a moment, let me hasten to admit to calling blackboards, blackboards during my youth. They were boards and they were black; therefore, blackboards. The descriptive noun had nothing to with African Americans, prejudice or hatred. Guess what black people called them back then? Blackboards.
In our current times, the political correctness language police wish to make a deal out of the word, blackboard, declaring it to be politically incorrect, racist and hurtful.
Next came whiteboards which I guess might have been a part of integrating our schools. Whiteboard. Blackboard. Gracious, what next? Brownboards and greenboards.
Shall we call them chalk boards? No, we can’t do that because a whiteboard does not use chalk or if someone makes the mistake of using chalk, there will be no student learning because you can’t read the white chalk letters on the whiteboard.
Whiteboard users write with colored erasable pens. Wait, I just used the word colored. Someone might take offense to my use of what historically has been an acceptable word, when properly used.
Let me say whiteboard users write with a selection of marking devices that offer a rainbow variety of hues. Oh, I am thinking that word rainbow has been put on a no, no, special meaning word list too.
It is so difficult to communicate without getting into trouble for using a word that the language police have declared to be off limits. Many words used in the past have now been condemned.
To avoid the possibility of offending anyone because of political incorrectness, I better rewrite my potentially controversial sentence.
POLITICALLY CORRECT SENTENCE: My teacher, Mr. Prevost, asked me to explain the wave theory. He turned around to face the multicultural friendly, all inclusive, hard surface, chalk documentation device, set on a vertical plane, to record my intellectually gifted answer to his physics question related to wave theory.
Everyone appreciated that the documentation device was able to record my answer in English and 17 different languages including Pig Latin along with various geographical dialects.
While it has not happened yet, we better watch for the word documentation on the condemned word list. It is fairly close to the word undocumented used in the terminology, undocumented alien.
In the meantime, having never cracked open my physics book, I had no clue what the answer to the physics question was. What could I do?
I decided the best course of action would be a well crafted diversion to get Mr. Prevost’s mind off the question at hand, so I jumped out the window. The class broke into uproarious laughter. The last thing the class saw was the bottoms of my felony flyers.
Had I broken my neck, my classmates would have continued to support my improvisational stunt by falling out of their student desks with laughter. When Mr. Prevost turned around to face the class, Joe Boyle was gone.
Luckily the physics class was on the ground floor.
When I circled back down the hallway, Mr. Prevost spotted me and said I could return to class with no obligation to answer the question.
Back to Hector. Hector’s last words as he looked down and pointed were, “Those people down there look like tiny ants.” I yelled back, “Hector, those are ants. You are on the first floor.”
Hector climbed down to safety.
Some have suggested I am a hero and that the Lakewood City Council should present me with a Life Saving Award. I say no, no, to these kind overtures. I am just a plain and simple guy doing what any plain and simple guy with an uncanny ability to be in the right place at the right time would do. Yes, my omnipresence allows me to save lives and that my friends, is a true gift.