Monday, December 27, 2010

The theory of relative equality

For Debbie

When I was young, we lived on the Margolin farm in Ringoes, New Jersey. It was a dairy farm. I still have fond memories of calling the cows over from the open field in our back yard. Of course, I gave names to some of them. A few of them would slowly meander over to the white wooden fence where I stood on the other side. I would talk to them, pet them, and give them some treats to eat. Cows can be such docile creatures.
Mr. & Mrs. Margolin were very nice people. They had two sons and a daughter. Debbie was my sister's age and they got to be pretty good friends. I don't remember how long we lived there, but by the time I got to high school, we had already moved to the big town of Flemington, population around 2,000 back then, and still the home of the county seat.
As a coming of age young man, I recall Debbie walking around the farm wearing a small bikini and how she affected me then. This was a normal thing for a boy my age. It's called growing up at a time of raging hormones, and it's just a part of the birds and the bees and the flowers and the trees. Most boys my age would have had the same thoughts running around in our heads, but that's got nothing to do with my point. My point is this: How Debbie dressed did nothing to invite trouble, and what happened to her should never be an excuse to commit murder.

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Tuesday, December 14, 2010

Suburban Drive - Two Years Later

I shot a new video of the site where Caylee was discovered on December 11, 2008. It's hard to believe it was two years ago. I really wanted to get this published earlier, but it takes time to edit and upload to YouTube. I hope it's worth the wait.


Wednesday, December 01, 2010

I Swear

I have done my best to head to the courthouse early so I don't have to rush once I arrive. Sometimes, going through security can be very time-consuming. Fortunately, Monday wasn't all that bad. I never have to park in the parking garage, either, and that generally saves me $6-10 per hearing; not much, but in this tight economy, every bit helps. Because of where I park, I walk by the television trucks with their high microwave towers extending from the roofs. It's interesting because they are filled with very expensive electronic equipment. On most days, that's where the reporters put their well choreographed on air segments together. That in itself is a real talent. The trucks are all parked in an area designed for them, in front of the courthouse, in a nook off Orange Avenue.

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