Simple Logic

• Parents went on Dr. Phil's show to complain about racism and other things their kids were being exposed to while playing multiplayer games on their X-Box. As Opie and Anthony and some of their comedian friends astutely questioned while discussing the story, why were kids playing rated “M” games unsupervised? They let their children connect with strangers and play violent, bloody video games reenacting war in graphic detail, then get upset at the things being said. The kids shouldn't have been on there in the first place. Obviously it's a harsh world out there and parents can only shelter their kids so much. Lord knows I was called some horrible names when I went to elementary school. I appreciate that parents might need a break, might need the kids to occupy themselves while they prepare dinner or simply catch their breath after a hard day. But there are plenty of family friendly games geared toward younger audiences, and if they absolutely insist on letting their kids play war games, I'm pretty sure there's an option to play against the computer and no need to connect with people you and your children don't know. The internet and multiplayer games are too vast. Even without modern technology, I found ways to get in trouble with a telephone. Multiplayer games shouldn't be banned anymore than the phone. You wouldn't let your kid roam around the streets of Manhattan unsupervised; why let them roam virtually? It's simple logic.

• There's a long, dark stretch of road along my commute with several opportune groves and driveways for police cars to be concealed. It's a long stretch of road along a beach with no traffic lights, and 45 MPH posted every 100 feet or so. At the end of a long day, and especially at the end of a long week, I'm in as much of a hurry to get home as anyone else. But I know that road along the shore. I've known it for years, long before I drove it every day. I scan all the places of concealment, and stay below 50 MPH. Coming home on Friday, I saw the outline of a car with lights on its roof. Mind you, every light in the vehicle was out, it was partially behind some bushes, and there was only a split second in which the moonlight beyond it betrayed its silhouette. It was unmistakable and, without braking, I eased back to 40 MPH by letting off the gas a little, just to play it safe. The SUV behind me chose to tailgate, then angrily pass me on the right. I looked in my rearview mirror, and saw nothing. Ahead of me, the SUV briefly swerved in to my lane to avoid a bus that looked like it was going to pull out from a side road. The bus completed its turn once the SUV and I were slightly beyond. In my rearview mirror, I finally saw flashing lights, and someone in the distance behind the bus got pulled over. The impatient guy who didn't like when I slowed down was very lucky, but he'd have taken less of a chance if he applied some simple logic.

• People are inherently lazy and selfish. The best of us overcome these qualities by conscious effort and/or guilt. I have an ongoing relationship with my high school and my college in which, after ignoring or missing a few requests for donations by mail, they start pestering me by phone. Most nights I'm not home and, when I am, my dad will usually say I'm not back yet. Sometimes he'll tell them to send me a letter, and sometimes I will write a check, buying a few months of peace. I understand the effort people go to for a good cause, as well as the mechanism in my personality where the repeated calls get so annoying, I'd rather not indulge them. I believe there's a clear difference between persuasion and persistence. Yet I'm surprised to encounter the same situation with my blood. A few months ago there was a blood drive at my office. It's been some years since I last donated. In fact, the last time was in high school, and a few weeks later I got a letter saying I was anemic and my blood was unusable. Checking in with my doctor, all tests came back fine and it seemed the blood people had made a mistake, and wasted good blood. More reluctant to open my veins than my wallet, and disappointed that I went through the experience for nothing, I had little motivation to do so again.

My second attempt last October proved to be a good one. I gave high marks to all involved for a quick and painless procedure, and decided I would definitely participate in future drives. Of course, by this week when I received my third or fourth call at work from someone thanking me for my donation and asking if I'd come to some center somewhere and give more, I started wondering if I checked off a “telemarketing at work number OK” box when I filled out my application. I get one of these calls every three weeks or so, always near the end of the day and usually on a Friday. Each time, I politely tell the person that someone already called me, and that I gladly will donate the next time they visit my office. Even though that's true, I always feel like scum. If I don't send twenty bucks to my high school, it just means that maybe they're short one new chair. But blood can't be stockpiled, it has to be fresh, and each time I decline to drive over to their center, someone very well may be dying. The callers are persistent because the stakes are higher. Unfortunately, the logic isn't so simple. The more they call, the less inclined I am to give. Yet I suppose they can't afford not to call. Logically, I could agree the next time and that would stop the calls...for a month. Generosity needs to be offered in and of itself, not to silence others. I guess, in the end, some problems have no logical solution.