Vinson: Head first_too deep
Tuesday, March 21, 2017 10:59 am
By MIKE VINSON
I'd been warned, over-and-over, about the hazards of going against the 'grain' regarding my journalistic approach. "Mike, you're in too deep with these politically incorrect articles," an attorney friend warned.
"What if I'm telling the truth?" I challenged.
"The truth?!" the attorney wailed. "Are you so guilelessly ignorant that you believe, for a micro second, the System actually stresses over the truth, when a deceptive canard will better serve the collective whole?"
"But I ..."
"Stop, right there!" the attorney demanded, throwing his right hand in the air. "Listen to me, and listen closely: When it comes to historically controversial issues, the truth has consistently played a subordinate role to success. Careers, pensions, luxury homes, Italian sport cars, designer threads, and Grey Goose martinis definitely take priority over divulging to the public the unequivocal truth, if there is enough at stake. Do you think Donald Trump became president of the United States by telling the truth? No, he became president because he is a master of prevarication."
Read the following, and you be the judge ...
It was a few days later, a Friday, about dusk, and I was driving down the Bypass in McMinnville, Tennessee. Listening to the popular rock radio station FM 105.9, I lost track of just how fast I was driving. Next thing I knew, blue lights were flashing, a siren roaring. I pulled to the shoulder, came to a stop, and rolled down the driver's side window. A city policeman pulled in behind me, exited his cruiser, and walked up to my driver's side. With a professional tone, the officer asked, "Sir, do you know why I pulled you over?"
"I have no idea, officer."
"You were speeding. Can I see your driver's license and vehicle registration, please."
"Well, I have an Uzi machine gun in the trunk."
"Anything else?" the policeman asked, eyebrows furrowed.
"Yeah, there's a bag of loot and a female bank clerk bound and gagged in the trunk, also. I just robbed a bank and took the chick hostage, in case I need leverage."
The officer jumped backwards and immediately pulled his Glock 10mm pistol from his holster. "Put your hands on top of the steering wheel, and don't make a move!" he sternly ordered.
"Nope," I replied.
"Tell you what," the detective continued, "put your left hand through the window, remove the keys from the ignition with your right hand, slowly exit the car, and walk to the rear--I don't want this to end badly!" While I did as ordered, the detective opened my driver's side door. I exited the vehicle and walked to the rear of my car.
I nudged the detective and said, "Next thing you know, he'll claim I was speeding."
I know-I know, I fell headfirst, too, the first time I heard it.