These days everything we buy comes with instructions and detailed warnings. Aerosol cans have labels that warn us to keep them away from open flames. Shampoos clearly state that the contents are for external use only. Most cleaning products prompt the user on how to open the cap (push down while turning), so as not to splash in the eyes. And, whatever you do, please do not ingest the contents. But, if you happen to do just that, they conveniently supply you with the number for “Poison Control.”
For those of us who cannot, or will not, read there are cartoonish warnings. Big, plastic totes have a line drawing of a baby within a red-slashed circle. Do not put your baby in the tote, it warns in comic-book symbolism. The tags on hair dryers make it very clear that we should not drop them in the bathtub.
Evidently, those of us who use these products (and don’t we all?) are too obtuse to realize that something designed to wash your hair will not work well as a refreshing drink, no matter how much it smells like fruit and rain-forest botanicals.
It makes you wonder how anyone old enough to use a hair dryer, or open a bottle of bathroom cleanser, could survive without such guidance. Would we all electrocute and poison ourselves? Would we be searching for that baby, so neatly stored away in a tote?
The world is a dangerous place, where your own home is a minefield of disaster. Every room holds a plethora of potential catastrophe. Thank heavens most of us are bright enough to avoid the tragedies of everyday life.
But, stepping outside — now, that’s a journey into real jeopardy. I have always felt that Columbus was one of the safest of all places to live. Lately, I have been proven wrong almost every day.
The news is filled with too many recent murders, home invasions and brutal beatings. It is difficult to understand how criminals are so arrogant that they have no fear of posting their crime on YouTube. What has happened to the Columbus that I fell in love with?
I come from a city that has almost a murder a day. New Orleans can be like the wild, wild West. Gunfire is heard every night. People are terrified to just drag their trash cans to the curb after dark. Children are often not allowed to play on their own lawns.
When the government designed the color-coded terror alert, I was confused. Every day meant a red-alert in a city so violent. What is the reason to be more attentive on one day than on any other day? Orange, red, green — all were the same to me.
One of the reasons that Chris and I chose to stay here was that we could walk on the streets, ride bikes, or visit on the lawn or porch at any time of day. Today, I feel differently. Now I am fearful.
We cannot put warning labels on the inside of our doors: “Stay home! It is too perilous to go out.” That may work for caustic products and small appliances. However, it will be worthless against pervasive crime. Fear and danger should be eliminated, not just handled with an alert, or disclaimer.
We (and I mean those in power) must make the city safe for our citizens. Columbus’ streets are for gentle people, not thugs. Voters demand it.
(A very happy 50th to J. St. J.)
Adele Elliott, a New Orleans native, moved to Columbus after Hurricane Katrina.
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