A person raises themselves up in the gaze of the public. They are charitable, loving, and in the eyes of some even a hero. But despite what actions they may take in his or her public life, there will always be hidden secrets.
Hidden as long as your name isn't Kobe Bryant.
By now, most know that Bryant has been charged with felony sexual assult, a crime for which he could receive a sentance of life imprisonment. And while it probably won't come to that, the minimum is four years, and that still has me worried.
Think about it. A young nobody, who if the charges are "proven" true, will be in every Kobe documentary until she dies, as the woman who ended a promising young career. There's a young district attorney, who clearly can make a name for himself by reeling in this supposed immoral and corrupt young man.
Yet besides the two of them -- who else has to benefit from this?
Certainly not the city of Los Angeles.
Besides the Lakers being a multi-million dollar business, the team sereves another purpose. As local gods, Shaq, Kobe, and now even Glove and Mailman all boost moral. They give the people of LA something to be proud of. They donate to charities, they foster programs to help the young, underprivelged and the sick. But the lives they touch are in danger of losing that saving grace.
Charges or not, children will still want to meet Kobe Bryant. They'll still want to shake the hand of Basketball's current greatest player, and they'll still light up to see him drop 40 on any given night.
But not if he's in prison.
So perhaps the question should not be, "did he do it," but rather "does it matter?"
Sure it's cold. Sure if you were sexually assulted, you too, would most likely want "justice." But in this case, shouldn't we step back from the situation and think -- does it matter? What happens to the community should you remove a pillar? Does it crumble? I think we may find out.
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I spent today walking places. I got up, ate and walked to the commons. I picked up 50 copies of the freshman issue at the Daily Sun, and then I walked back to campus. But then I kept going, all the way to East Hill. I finally dropped them off with Athletic Communications, and asked that they get to Coach Tambroni. I'll call to double check on Monday.
I then walked home. I walked around the house, then out of it, then back in (I was cooking hotdogs outside). Next I walked to the arts quad, where I played croquet with Dan McAlvin, and Matt Nagowski. It was an enjoyable time and I grew rather fond of the game, but after one match we walked away to get ice cream and never quite returned.
So I was having a conversation among friends, when Lisa's (cell phone girl) roommate from last year walks in. Of all the things to be brought back from the past -- did I need that? Needless to say, I've been giving more thought to what Sabrina (my brother's friend, and a housemate from last summer) told me. I'm thinking of e-mailing Lisa to meet for lunch in the fall.
I mean, we seemed to hit it off okay. She seemed to enjoy herself, she was giddy -- we both were. It was the friends who ruined it for me. So the real question now is, after a year, has she moved on enough to be able to tell them to shove it? It's tough. If the guys I hang out with razzed me about someone I was dating, I would most likely end up dumping them. It wouldn't be becuase of their taunting, it would be becuase they would wear on me until I was sure I recognized whatever flaw they were talking about. I'm not sure what that means about me as a person...
If you asked my apartment mates, it probably means I'm an asshole. They all left (I think) for the weekend, but the only one who said anything about it was Kajsa, and that was in passing. It's okay though. I'm enjoying the quiet, but it would have been nice to have some notice. I mean, isn't this how people go missing for weeks at a time? Especially at Cornell.
And one more quesiton while we're at it -- why do I find myself romantically pining to return home for a little bit? I know when I go home, my family are the only people there who care about me. I haven't seen most of my "friends" since I graduated from high school, and those who I have don't bother to include me in their plans whenever I do go home.
I suppose the infatuation all comes from the romanticism that the term "home" invokes. Afterall, home is where you hang your hat. Home is where the heart is. But for me, the term has evolved into something of a holy grail. I'd love to hang out with the kids from high school, but I really can't go back. In part, they don't want me. And to be honest, part of me doesn't want them.
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Oh, and my song of the moment is "something stupid." But it's not the old Sinatra song, it's a cover done by Robbie Williams and Nicole Kidman. I'm not sure which version I like better, but maybe it's like chosing between chocolate and vanilla. I mean, why not enjoy both?
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