Friday, April 18, 2014

So I'm doing the whole 'wear a dress for charity' thing again

Three years ago in March I was at a bar in North Tonawanda with Heather when I got a message asking me if I'd dress in drag for a charity event. Mildly unnerved, I shared it with her and asked her what she thought about it.

For all intents and purposes, we had just started dating and she liked to embarrass me at the time (you should see the things she used to write on my Facebook when I left my phone unguarded), so she encouraged me to do it. After checking with the morality police at work, I agreed — somewhat reluctantly.

Three years later, I'm signed up again to be part of the Peaches & Creme Fashion Show, a charity event benefitting Relay for Life. This will be my fourth time in drag — well eighth, really if you count the fittings that come about a week before the show.

You see, all us guys go to Maurices, the main sponsor of the event, to pick out a ... wardrobe? ... costume? ... Um, I guess we'll just say "dress." We also get to pick out some accessories like jewelry and scarfs and whatnot. Then the night of the show, we put them on. Maybe some nail polish. Maybe a wig. Whatever makes us pretty.

I mentioned this is for charity, right?

We model our dresses for the crowd at the Palace Theatre and have a lot of fun while doing it. There's also a talent contest which I have heretofore avoided but am considering doing this year if my favorite Lockport bartender (Simon Chavers from the Pleasant Valley Tavern) will join me in making a fool of myself. He's signed on as a "model," but hasn't fully committed to the talent part yet.

Anyway, it's coming up on May 10 and it's going to be a lot of fun. I have tickets for sale for $10 each if you'd like to come out and see me in drag in person. (If you just want to see a picture I'm top left in the photo above ... and there's a few shots on my Facebook page, too.)

So ... yeah ... that.

Justice is blind — and deaf and dumb

I’ve always been intrigued by the concept of justice. I say concept because it really seems more theoretical to me than practical. One man’s justice is another man’s nightmare.

Compare, if you will, the concept of justice in the book of Leviticus to, say, present-day New York state law. Or for that matter, compare the concept of justice in a present-day third-world nation to anywhere in America. Both societies believe their concept is correct and the other is an abomination.

There was a time in my life — when I was much younger — that I considered going into law. I’m not sure whether this was the reason I wore a tie to school every day in fifth grade or whether wearing a tie made me want to be a lawyer. But they occurred around the same time.

Going through junior high school without a single girlfriend made me ditch the tie — and my belief that the world was fair. So out went the idea of being a lawyer. Law isn’t the practice of fairness, it’s the practice of law. And I think we all know they’re not the same.

Take, for example, the case of Cornealious Anderson. In the year 2000, he was convicted of armed robbery (with a BB gun) and sentenced to 13 years in prison. Then he was sent home and told someone would get ahold of him concerning when to begin his prison term.

Anderson waited. And then he waited. And then he got married. And waited. Had a kid. Waited. Got a couple traffic tickets. Had two more kids. Waited some more. Thirteen years went by — the same amount of time he was to have spent in prison — before the state of Missouri remembered that he was supposed to serve time.

Last July Cornealious Anderson was standing in his kitchen making breakfast for his three-year-old daughter when a SWAT team broke down his door and took him into custody.

At 37 years old, Anderson was taken to Southeast Correctional Center in Charleston, Mo. to begin serving a sentence on a crime he had committed when he was 24. He is to get out in 2026.

In a not-too-dissimilar circumstance from last week’s column, a man found himself serving time for a crime that someone else had committed. Yes, of course, it was Cornealious Anderson that had committed the crime but he was a very different person at 37 than he was at 24.

It’s easy to see that he cleaned up his life. He started three businesses in that time. He had become a productive member of society. He had been rehabilitated. That tends to happen. Twenty-four-year old punks often turn into 37-year-old upstanding citizens.

To me, the kicker here is that Anderson hadn’t been hiding. He wasn’t on the lam. He just thought they forgot about him. And if someone forgets you’re supposed to go to prison, are you going to remind them?

Currently, Anderson is trying to appeal his case, hoping that sheer justice will get him out of prison. It simply isn’t fair to send someone to prison until they’re 50 for a petty crime they committed when they were 24.

The problem is there’s no “fairness” clause in Missouri law — or any other law for that matter. And the system doesn’t account for his self-rehabilitation. They have to rehabilitate them in their own way.

Barring a clemency being granted by the governor, Anderson will serve his 13 years. He’ll miss out on his kids growing up. And they’ll grow up without a father. And when he leaves prison in 2026, he won’t be the same man he is today. Anyone would be hard-pressed to suggest he might be better. Most likely, he’ll be worse.

I can only hope that Cornealious Anderson gets the justice he deserves. And not the legal ruling that has been cast upon him.

Scott Leffler really did wear a tie to school every day in 1985. Now, not so much. Follow him on Twitter @scottleffler for baseball hat clad selfies, though.