What a Guy!
In last week’s “Let It Rest” letter
(May 10), the author praises Andy Lopez’s killer for accurately blasting him with seven bullets, missing only once. He congratulates the killer, Deputy Sheriff Erick Gelhaus, for his so-called weapons control, even though, records show, Gelhaus failed to give the 13-year-old the required warning, failed to assess the situation as per his own training and common sense, and negligently, perhaps criminally, mistook a toy gun for the real thing. Some expert.
And then the letter writer congratulates Gelhaus, who is white, for not killing “other children” in the Latino neighborhood. What a guy! Are we supposed to believe that this killer was skilled and brave because he, without hesitation, blew away a kid walking in a field who was nonaggressively carrying a toy gun? Whatever happened to “protect and serve”? A brave officer would have stood his ground and assessed the situation before splattering the park with automatic rifle fire. Why is Gelhaus still on the force? Because our county officials value his ability to kill more than they value the life of the child he killed.
Tom, you left out one thing when you were driving through Petaluma listening to Limbaugh (“American Pod,” May 10). Petaluma is where Jack Finney, author of the Invasion of the Body Snatchers novel, lived. Jack and his sweet wife were good customers of the “bar with no name” in Sausalito when I owned it from 1959 to 1974. He liked the no name so much that he included finding a no-name in his time-travel novel Time and Again. Power to the time travellers. I think Finney would have agreed that in another time-travelled time, pod people would have been a force again Trumpfians.
Death by Broccoli
Mr. Rogawitz’s letter (“Mother’s Milk,” May 10) is another example of the hysterical vegans up in arms over dairy/poultry/beef/sheep/bollweevils. Get a grip, Larry. Drive around the bucolic Sonoma/Marin countryside. Show me the chains. Show me the “torn” calves. I see newborn calves frolicking with their moms in suitable environs. The calves are separated in due time, but they are not “torn away.”
Our local dairymen and women love their animals. Their livelihood depends on healthy, happy animals. They have names for their charges. To equate the huge national dairies with local ones (almost all of them organic) is equivalent to comparing our local producers with Walmart. Fine, Larry, drink your soy-based milk and imbibe the nauseous pseudo-“products” found at Whole Foods. I’ll continue to support my local organic dairies and their products. If you ever see me in a Whole Foods store, I give you permission to summarily execute me—with a limp broccoli stalk, of course.
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