Post by CMF Newsman on Feb 19, 2009 12:45:59 GMT -5
Written by Alex Teach
Goddamn pagans. It was the third time in less than a month I had had to respond to negotiate peace between them and the fire marshal, and my patience was wearing thin.
The first contact several weeks ago was quite a novelty—and maybe even a pleasure. There I was in East Lake (perilously close to the genetic hinterland known as “Black Bottom” at that), and what do I find but a nest of folks practicing a spiritual tradition from pre-Christian Europe between two addresses hosting open-air drug dealing and the fencing of stolen property. For a guy who shows up to work largely just to see what could possibly happen next, this was a jackpot…but it went from gold to emotional hemorrhoids far more quickly than anticipated.
“This is a religious ritual! You can’t do this!” Mr. Farmer loudly proclaimed as a corpse made of cornhusks and reeds lay smoldering behind him. The firemen with 9 Engine rolled their eyes with exasperation, but I never could tell if it was because they were annoyed for the same reasons or experiencing separation anxiety from whatever deviance they had abandoned to respond to the given call for service. Firemen are notorious perverts and it makes them unpredictable, but I suspected in this instance we were on the same page.
“That is an effigy,” he proclaimed, “a religious right protected by the Constitution!” I let a pause hang in the air for him to settle down. “That,” I said, “is a fire in your yard within the city limits and it is a violation of both city code and state law.”
www.chattanoogapulse.com/columns/on-the-beat/44-on-the-beat/576-freedom-of-religion-an-east-lake-story
Goddamn pagans. It was the third time in less than a month I had had to respond to negotiate peace between them and the fire marshal, and my patience was wearing thin.
The first contact several weeks ago was quite a novelty—and maybe even a pleasure. There I was in East Lake (perilously close to the genetic hinterland known as “Black Bottom” at that), and what do I find but a nest of folks practicing a spiritual tradition from pre-Christian Europe between two addresses hosting open-air drug dealing and the fencing of stolen property. For a guy who shows up to work largely just to see what could possibly happen next, this was a jackpot…but it went from gold to emotional hemorrhoids far more quickly than anticipated.
“This is a religious ritual! You can’t do this!” Mr. Farmer loudly proclaimed as a corpse made of cornhusks and reeds lay smoldering behind him. The firemen with 9 Engine rolled their eyes with exasperation, but I never could tell if it was because they were annoyed for the same reasons or experiencing separation anxiety from whatever deviance they had abandoned to respond to the given call for service. Firemen are notorious perverts and it makes them unpredictable, but I suspected in this instance we were on the same page.
“That is an effigy,” he proclaimed, “a religious right protected by the Constitution!” I let a pause hang in the air for him to settle down. “That,” I said, “is a fire in your yard within the city limits and it is a violation of both city code and state law.”
www.chattanoogapulse.com/columns/on-the-beat/44-on-the-beat/576-freedom-of-religion-an-east-lake-story
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