I have long believed a major problem in the world is it seems much of what we know and believe is a word game. As a young man I did not understand, especially when the word game is played out by lawyers in court. Remember when President Bill Clinton was playing games with words to defend himself.
In the world today you have to listen to the words people use and then question what they really meant. Sadly that isn't even enough... not only do you have to wonder what they meant, but later you may have to worry about what their attorneys can get a group of 12 of your peers to believe what they might have meant.....
In 1989 I was involved in a traffic stop, it was the high sheriff and me vs 4 people riding 2 Harley Davidson motorcycles. You can probably figure out is was 2 men and 2 women (couples), with each couple on a bike. 1989 may seem like yesterday, but I have slept since then.... and sometimes it is hard to remember all the details (an attorney may have told me to say that) but as I remember it the sheriff said one of the men was the leader of the Goose Shit gang.
I was young, and I think this was the first time I had ever heard of a gang called Goose Shit, truly I wondered why anyone would call themselves that..... Later I would learn the name was really, The Galloping Goose Motorcycle Club. The club is one of the motorcycle clubs that can truly be called a 1% club.... if you don't know, google.
Goose shit was a derogatory term used by law enforcement.... (It's all in how you tell the story) I was young, and had never heard of them, but would learn they often traveled through our area. The sheriff wanted to "mess" with them, in a way to encourage them to avoid our area so he pulled them over. As far as I know.... he didn't have a reason to stop them, but that didn't matter to him. One thing I would learn is the sheriff knew how to tell a story.....
During a search of the bikes, the sheriff found illegal drugs. Ironically the drugs were already in evidence baggies (convenient huh?) The sheriff then asked the people one at a time if the drugs belonged to them. Each of the first three people said, "....I I have never seen those drugs before....." The sheriff then turned to the last of the 4 (the girlfriend of the gang's leader) and said, "....you are under arrest for the possession of drugs...."
Later the sheriff would tell me he wanted to screw with the gang's leader. Once had had "found" drugs on the bikes it clearly existed and belonged to someone. Having asked the first 3 of the 4 if it was their drugs and they denied ownership, the only possible answer was the illegal drugs must belong to the 4th person. Then he laughed, and said, with his old lady in jail he won't be getting any tonight....
The high sheriff played a huge role in teaching me about the world. I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut, and then when we were alone, I would ask why he said something that I clearly believed to be a lie. He would then explain how it might not be 100% the truth, but the way he told it the story it could possibly be true.... granted the chances of it being true were like 1 in a million, but it was still possible. The person he would have talked to could then leave seeing the world the way the sheriff wanted him to see the world..... whether it was that way or not.
The sheriff wore a white hat (sort of), he was on the right side of the law (sort of), he was a good guy (sort of), I learned so much from him (without a doubt). Learning how to tell a story to shape a narrative was a valuable part of my education. Maybe the greatest part of this story is it was free..... you see other people paid the price for me to learn the lessons.
