Someone I know, let’s call her April, has diabetes. April had to provide some sort of form regarding her diabetes (I don’t remember all the details now) to the DMV, who lost the form, resulting in a temporary license suspension until the paperwork could be straightened out. During a conversation April admitted that she had driven once during that period of time when her license was suspended; as I recall, she drove to a local grocery store. She caught all kinds of flak for this, and tried to defend her actions in a variety of ways: drove a short distance, no other transportation, bad weather, as a diabetic she needs to eat regularly and she had no food, no one hurt as a result of her driving. To which the obvious responses included, all excuses and someone COULD have been hurt. One man, in particular, was really insistent that April had committed a crime, which of course led her to stubbornly resist admitting she had done anything wrong.
I said, finally, that she ought to admit she had done something wrong, but I also said that those people accusing her of being some kind of hardened criminal ought also to remember that they had probably done something criminal in their lives. One of the women listening in on the discussion, let’s call her May, then said that she had never committed a crime in her life.
I found this hard to believe. So I went through the standard litany: Many people cheat on taxes. No, May said, she never had. Most people have driven through a red light or a stop sign. No. Almost everyone has jaywalked. No. Lots of people sample a grape in a store. No. Just about everyone has taken a pen from an office. No, she never had.
Then I remembered something. May was married, and had two children. It was well-known that May had been involved with someone on a website. She was a heavy drinker and the two had not been exactly discreet about their “friendship,” but more than that, she had mistakenly sent messages to another person that she thought she had directed to this fellow, the messages being extremely loving and intimate; the person to whom she had mistakenly sent these messages had told me about them. When May had previously been confronted about her relationship with this fellow, she had not denied the obvious; everyone knew that she had been friendly with the person in question. What she didn’t know was that I knew to what extent she had been “friendly.”
So I said, under the pretext of general examples I had been giving, I’m sure lots of people commit adultery. Lots of people hook up on websites, for example, including married people. I’m thinking a judge would consider cybersex adultery. Adultery is a crime.
That stopped her cold.
Someone I know, let’s call her April, has diabetes. April had to provide some sort of form regarding her diabetes (I don’t remember all the details now) to the DMV, who lost the form, resulting in a temporary license suspension until the paperwork could be straightened out. During a conversation April admitted that she had driven once during that period of time when her license was suspended; as I recall, she drove to a local grocery store. She caught all kinds of flak for this, and tried to defend her actions in a variety of ways: drove a short distance, no other transportation, bad weather, as a diabetic she needs to eat regularly and she had no food, no one hurt as a result of her driving. To which the obvious responses included, all excuses and someone COULD have been hurt. One man, in particular, was really insistent that April had committed a crime, which of course led her to stubbornly resist admitting she had done anything wrong.
I said, finally, that she ought to admit she had done something wrong, but I also said that those people accusing her of being some kind of hardened criminal ought also to remember that they had probably done something criminal in their lives. One of the women listening in on the discussion, let’s call her May, then said that she had never committed a crime in her life.
I found this hard to believe. So I went through the standard litany: Many people cheat on taxes. No, May said, she never had. Most people have driven through a red light or a stop sign. No. Almost everyone has jaywalked. No. Lots of people sample a grape in a store. No. Just about everyone has taken a pen from an office. No, she never had.
Then I remembered something. May was married, and had two children. It was well-known that May had been involved with someone on a website. She was a heavy drinker and the two had not been exactly discreet about their “friendship,” but more than that, she had mistakenly sent messages to another person that she thought she had directed to this fellow, the messages being extremely loving and intimate; the person to whom she had mistakenly sent these messages had told me about them. When May had previously been confronted about her relationship with this fellow, she had not denied the obvious; everyone knew that she had been friendly with the person in question. What she didn’t know was that I knew to what extent she had been “friendly.”
So I said, under the pretext of general examples I had been giving, I’m sure lots of people commit adultery. Lots of people hook up on websites, for example, including married people. I’m thinking a judge would consider cybersex adultery. Adultery is a crime.
That stopped her cold.