All Rise For Judge Mental

There's lumber everywhere. Stacks of raw spruce logs are piled triple overhead. They'll be debarked, cut, twobyfoured, planed, and then put into the kiln for drying. I'm not sure about the order of the events, because I know nothing about the lumber business. Remember, I'm a leisurologist first, and a Nabob second. Sultan third? I'm no lumber baron, that's for sure.

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You sound like Bones from Star Trek, Ian. Remember "Dammit Jim, I'm a doctor, not a stationary engineer"?

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I can't say that I remember Dr.McCoy using the 'stationary engineer' defence, but I get your point. I know who I am, and what I'm not.

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If you met the guy pictured above in his work place, which just happens to be the kiln room in a large saw mill, you'd probably judge him a certain way. You'd look at his steel toed boots, grubby workman's clothing, grease stained hands, and worker bee hard hat. You'd imagine him idling in the line-up at Tim Horton's after his twelve hour shift which ended at 7 a.m.. You just know his coffee would have a double barrel of cream shot into it, and two bricks of sugar. Of course he'd order a donut, or six. He'd have a fluorescent orange hunter's cap somewhere in his truck. There would be ammunition in the glove box. As he drove home, in the early morning light, he'd be dreaming of a fourteen point buck leaping into his freezer. His house would be home to at least one satellite dish. He'd also have a battery of rifles in the house, perhaps even one next to the bed.

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What about beer in the fridge?

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Duh! Of course there would be beer. He'd have one to wash the coffee flavour out of his mouth. Then he'd pinch his wife on the bum as she went off to work at the diner, then he'd pass out in bed.

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But wait! He's none of that. He's probably the only blue collar worker in New Brunswick who skateboards, windsurfs, appreciates great coffee, writes poetry, reads voraciously, listens to punk rock and has no tattoos (that any of us are aware). He's probably the only white collar worker with these skills as well! He doesn't drive a pick-up truck, complain about the gubberment, or pinch his wife in the bum (only because he's not married).

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They broke the mold with Dave. This is one guy whom you should never try to stereotype, put into a box, or judge.

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Judge not, lest ye be judged.

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That quote came from a book I once saw in the nightstand of a hotel room. I was fumbling around for a phone book so I could order a pizza, instead I got some advice on judgement. I forget the name of the book, but I believe the author's last name was Gideon, or something like that.

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Of course we're always judging people, and people are judging us; it's human nature, so the quote is kind of useless. We have courts, and lawyers, and trials, and judges. We judge things every day. Justice is based on judgement. They even start with the same two letters, jay and you, as does jujubes and my son Julian . We should judge, and we should be judged. It's just a matter of getting all of the facts in order before we start making those judgements.

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I judge people at the supermarket all the time. When I see a fat person loading up the conveyor belt with SuperFries, TastyTaters, ice cream and Pepsi, I think they're pretty stupid. Or they hate themselves. Or they aren't too optimistic for the future. Maybe they just don't like food that's green, or maybe they simply can't afford to eat properly. I'm curious enough that I'd like to know, yet polite enough that I keep my thoughts and questions to myself, at least until I write the blog.

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Now would be an opportune time to judge Ian.

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Wouldn't it be great if you could just walk up to people and ask them who they are, what they believe in, why they do the things they do? I might try this sometime while in the Tim Horton's line-up, assuming that I'd give myself a reprieve from my self imposed Tim Horton's fatwa. It's for research purposes, you understand. I'd tap the person in front of me on the shoulder. He'd be a big, rugged bear of a man. I'd ask him to tell me something about himself that might surprise me. He'd say to me that I'd probably never have guessed that he gets violent when approached by nosey, smart ass strangers.

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Unfortunately it's often difficult to ask people questions about themselves for fear that they feel they're being judged. That's why we judge from afar, without the facts. It's natural and it keeps us alive. Case closed.