Peoples, if you know me in real life, you know I have zero problem speaking my mind and have no filter. Normally it’s comical because I try to say what other people are thinking but are too nice to say. I do have a few extreme and polarizing opinions. For instance: I’m clearly the only woman on the entire earth, not part of the religious right, who thinks the #metoo movement is a nightmare. I don’t want to live in a world where one person’s accusation can ruin another person’s life. Two people very close to me have been falsely accused of assault and the #metoo movement helped propel it way beyond where it ever should have gone. Stories for another day. Or never.
Two days ago, Real Estate Dad announced the death of Kobe Bryant as he scrolled the news on his phone. I heard “helicopter” and my jaw dropped – not of shock or sadness but “what kind of selfish asshole puts his 13 year old on a helicopter and flies through fog?” I told Real Estate Dad how last week, someone in a Facebook Real Estate group announced the death of the husband of another mom in the group. It turns out he was skydiving. “It should have been a safe jump” she said. “He’s done this jump a bunch of times.” But his equipment was tangled and he died – leaving her with two toddlers.
Good job, asshole.
I’m sorry but you know what? I’m not sorry. I have zero sympathy for people who purposely put themselves into dangerous situations once they have children. This entire blog exists to chronicle my mishaps at parenting. But I do know how to avoid obvious danger that would result in my or my children’s deaths. The other night I wasn’t approaching a red light fast enough for some douchebag behind me. He pulled around me, crossed the double line to do so, almost smashed head-on into a bus, flipped me off, then cut me off at the intersection.
Before kids? I would have put my high beams on that mother and tortured him for a good while. Now? I can’t do that shit. I have kids to stay alive for.
Before kids? I had a Harley. Now? I still have the motorcycle endorsement on my license but I’ll never need it. I wouldn’t get on one again – at least not while it’s moving.
Before kids I would have taken some pills someone told me was ecstasy, only to find out it was laced with heroin, direct a friend how to drive us out of Greenwich Village back to Connecticut while vomiting exorcist style from the backseat. Now? Oh come on! Ya jerks. My point is I got all that stupid crap OUT of my system before I became responsible for another human.
Kobe Bryant [allegedly] assaulted a woman in a hotel and only when confronted with actual physical DNA proof did he concede that sex occurred. Even if the rape didn’t happen, he’s still a cheater and could bring an STD or HIV home to his wife. He even admitted he cheated with someone else during questioning about the rape. The rape case was dropped after the victim, beaten down in the press, refused to testify. Rich sports stars are above the law.
Sunday the fog in L.A. was bad enough that law enforcement helicopters were grounded. But taking a car or waiting it out wasn’t good enough for the adults of the crew that boarded that helicopter.
I guess when you’re a rich sports star you can’t wait for anyone else’s schedule. So he made an incredibly stupid decision. Two, actually. He got into a helicopter and he brought his daughter along for that bad decision.
I get it. He’s dead. I should have some compassion.
I do – for the children he failed. Once you’re a parent, get your shit together. It’s not cool to have dangerous hobbies like skydiving or do stupid things like get in a shaky helicopter during a wave of fog that grounded all the other helicopters. This certainly isn’t going to be one of my popular opinions. But, the world apparently forgot about Kobe Bryant’s series of bad decisions that consistently put his family in the line of danger… and they forgot because he’s a rich basketball star.
The naysayers could argue that I’m being ridiculous and that people have to live their lives.
I live mine. But I live it for my kids.