violence

The Chool Bus (ch28)

CHAPTER 28: All agreed, the backtracking detour to Lake Tahoe was worth the trouble, but it was time to get back to business. Eleven punishing hours to Flagstaff Arizona for the next round of focus-group interviews… then, a trip to the deepest crack in the USA, the Grand Canyon.

Passing through Vegas on the way to Flagstaff, Billie agreed to turn the wheel over to Buck as eleven hours was about, “three more than i can stand.” Billie knows her limits and Buck was more than happy to help. So rolling into the Las Vegas area after seven plus hours with Billie behind the wheel, the Forks pulled over to get some fresh air, stretch their legs, and catch a meal before pushing the rest of the way to Flagstaff with a new pilot. Just a little more than three hours and they’d climb above the punishing heat of the desert to the cooler climate at seven-thousand feet. The smell of pine, the lush green lawns… Flagstaff Arizona. Focus-group interviews at Northern Arizona University were scheduled for the next couple days, so they couldn’t afford to dawdle.

Professor T spent a considerable chunk of road time working with the data so far gathered and catching up on administrative tasks. Occasionally he would confer with Jack over themes emerging in the data. These conversations were often quite spirited. It’s not that they were at odds over their perspectives, but they did have sometimes diverging ways to interpret what the participants were saying. Which is fine, these interviews can’t be used to draw objective conclusions, but they do provide an interesting “why” behind the numbers revealed in survey data. The surveys show what people do or think on a large scale, and the focus groups allow Professor T and Jack to hear how people explain these choices in their own words.

Merging onto Interstate 40 in Kingman Arizona, Billie got a jump-scare when Jack slammed his fist on the table making a particularly passionate point in one of those “spirited” conversations with Professor T. But Mork just laughed and brushed it off with a shrug. They’d have to agree to disagree. And Billie was awake now and rather impressed with Buck’s cool demeanor as the Bus encountered road construction and slowdowns. So much so that she began to quiz him over this uncanny ability to bring tempers down in situations that look like certain escalations to violence. This was refreshing for Billie as she is famous in her home town for a short temper and a withering vocabulary. Her method of de-escalation has always been to wear her opponents down with withering truth-telling generously seasoned with caustic, paint peeling accuracy.

“How do you do it?” Billie piped up out of nowhere.

“Do what?” said Buck with a sly grin.

“How did you turn that raging drunk in Fort Collins into an agreeable bystander?” Billie had marveled at the swift turn of events that day when Professor T appeared to have triggered a drunk and paranoid bar patron into a brawl, one that looked like it was going to land several bystanders into the urgent care clinic, at best.

“Well, it’s really simple when you look closely. I picked it up from a friend. He was a civilian contractor working in Afghanistan in the late stages of US involvement. Apparently he had spent some time with a detachment of special forces soldiers. And one of them taught him a way to defuse potential deadly confrontations with the locals. He boiled it down to an acronym, D-E-F-U-S-E. First, you have to short circuit your own “fight or flight” impulse, by remaining completely calm, and avoiding a defensive or argumentative stance. So ‘D’ is for de-escalate. After all, we are at bottom, animals. And this version of the mammalian animal is all et up with the hubris to consider themselves “civilized.” We’ve really only had a few thousand years to evolve from slithering in the grass to finding sanctuary in the trees, to walking upright, to developing food production for communities, to splitting the atom and other methods of habitat destruction. Not even a blip in geologic time. So, anyway, gotta tame the instinct. Most freeze in the face of an in-your-face threat. They don’t know whether to fight, or run. But the right thing to do is to remain calm no matter what.”

“Is that hard to do?” Billie was tumbling… catching her breath.

“Well, it may look that way, but considering the alternative, especially when others are involved. Others you care about and don’t want to see hurt, it really is a no-brainer. So… what’s the next letter in the DEFUSE acronym?” Buck was bringing Billie along.

“Well, we did ‘D’ so now we need ‘E,’” said Billie.

“Right.” said Buck. “‘E’ stands for empathize. You have to acknowledge and validate your opponent’s feelings or frustration. You gotta show ‘em that you recognize their emotional state. Anger, humiliation, wrath, whatever. Empathize with the prevailing emotional winds coming from your would-be attacker.”

“Ok…what’s the ‘F’ stand for?” Billie was eating this up. And they had plenty of time as Flagstaff was still hours down the road.    

“”F’ is for focus. This is where we direct our attention completely on our would-be attacker and the specific problem that seems to be driving them. This requires us to overlook our opponent’s attempts at provoking us with insults or threatening postures, personal attacks, or simple incoherent noise.” 

Billie was silent pondering the implications of the discipline it would take for her to ignore those personal attacks. She nodded solemnly.

“After that,” Buck went on. “You have to genuinely understand where this person is coming from… the ‘U.’ Again, this takes mental discipline for those of us used to throwing hands, or in your case, withering truth-bombs. So… the ‘U’ is a difficult state to arrive at when all you want to do is turn this person’s face into a pudding.” Buck winked and Billie laughed out loud.

“So now,” Buck was warming up to a conclusion. “Now it’s time to ‘S,’ solve the problem that brought the threat up to your face.”

“Solve?” Billie was incredulous. This all seemed somewhat fanciful. “After all,” she went on. “Some people just want to hurt others. They aren’t always interested in accepting reasons to keep their hands to themselves.”

“True story,” said Buck. But, there’s going to be a bottom-line reason for this irrational wish. And depending on your luck in the previous phases of the DEFUSE model, you may be able to tap into that wellspring.”

“C’mon…” Billie was struggling with these ideas.

“Bear with me,” said Buck. “Remember the reason for the dust-up in Fort Collins?”

“Yes. I believe he was angry with the world over a perceived, or literal loss of privacy… modern digital life.” Billie remembered actually identifying with the drunk’s complaint. “He saw Professor T’s audio recording rig, and that triggered a vengeful response. He was going to take this general feeling of violation and loss of control out on good ol’ Mork T.”

“Right,” said Buck. “But i was able to get him to face the absurdity of punishing a well-meaning, but absent-minded civilian for his general feelings of helplessness with the DEFUSE method.”

Billie nodded.

“So, to review,” Buck was sounding more like Professor T with every sentence. “We started with the ‘D.’

 “De-escalate!” said Billie.

“Right,” said Buck. “We refuse to allow the heat of the moment raise our emotional temperature.”

“Then you empathized with the guy.” Billie was playing along.

“The whole time, i remained focused on the fella’s problem,” said Buck. “That, right there, was almost enough to end the trouble.”

“But WAIT… there’s more!” Billie was starting to let some sarcasm show.

“Right, we’re not done yet,” said Buck, totally unmoved. “And keep in mind, these things don’t necessarily happen in sequence. You have to stay focused through the whole process, you have to remain empathetic start to finish, and understanding may take a little while to set in, but you have to keep digging for it.”

“So…what’s the ‘S’ for?” Billie was impressed with Buck’s ability to parry her jabs.

“Well, ‘S’ and ‘E’ sorta come together. ‘S’ is for solving the problem. Once the Fort Collins fella understood Professor T’s recordings had a purpose other than spying on hapless bystanders, he calmed down. Now, ‘E’ is for end the encounter. But it isn’t as simple as it sounds, there has to be clearly articulated next steps, and these next steps, when done right, are always voiced by our would-be attackers. In other wards, the confrontation is defused and the other person walks away feeling vindicated, the stable, positive outcome conceived by them.”

“So, BOOM! Resolution appears to have been conceived by the person that was threatening you in the first place?” Billie purred in amazement.

“Of course,” said Buck. “It doesn’t always end so cleanly, but fortunately for you and Jack and Mork T, the DEFUSE method worked like a charm in Fort Collins.”

Rolling southeast on historic “Route 66,” they passed lots of interesting potential pullovers. But duty calls. The Forks and DEFUSE-Master Buck Wellstone, needed to be on campus in the morning. With the sun at their backs and receding fast, the gang was fading. Parks Arizona, the Bellmont, then the interchange at the Navel Observatory… they had arrived. 

“Don’t miss the Route 66 interchange, Dummy,” said Roseanne’s gravley voice.

Buck acknowledged Siri’s Drunk Sister instructions, pulled into the RV park, and all made their way to bunks in their own time for a good night’s sleep before getting back to business on the NAU campus.   

NEXT WEEK:
Cruel Shoes and the glory of Mother Nature’s geological wonders.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links

The Chool Bus (ch13)

CHAPTER 13: The Forks and Buck witness the nation’s fibrillating heart a little more directly than anticipated in the Pacific Northwest.

The Forks had a few days to make the trip to Coeur d’Alene where the next set of interviews were scheduled to be conducted at the University of Idaho. After breakfasting at a Salt Lake mom & pop pancake house, they set off for Missoula, Montana. It would be nearly eight hours on the road, but Billie was up for the challenge as some of the nation’s finest hot springs are located there. She was excited to check out some of the less developed spots for a truly unique communion with mother nature. 

Toward the back of the Chool Bus, the hypnotizing hum of rubber and asphalt lulled Professor T to some fitful napping. He remembered at least three moments between sleep and wakefulness where the dream, or nightmare, stuck to his conscious memory like peanut butter on the roof of your mouth when there’s too much PB and not enough J. One of these, in particular, had the good professor sort of dreading this push into the Great American Redoubt (GAR), an area of the country deeply steeped in apocalyptic religious fundamentalism.

Now, Professor T is a live-and-let-live secular humanist at heart, one hundred percent in support of the 1st Amendment’s explicit provision of religious practice free from government involvement (for or against) but the folks in the GAR of Northern Idaho, Eastern Washington/Oregon, had been slowly creating a space where their brand of apocalyptic Christianity was seeping into a cultural dominance. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, thought Professor T, as long as they don’t try to draw everyone into their oxygen deprived world view. He wasn’t worried for himself so much as for Billie’s safety as a person of gender fluidity. 

It didn’t help that Professor T was watching a documentary on YouTube about the GAR, drifting in and out around the point where some of the worst extremists urged followers to seek out and identify Communists, Jihadists, Antifa & BLM. When responding to a critique over the white nationalist flavor of their apparent political goals, they loudly declared their token black pastor negated all claims of their wish to establish a white ethnostate set to secede from the union like those southern states in the mid-19th Century. Of course, that separation led to a bloody civil war and the radical element of the GAR seemed anxious for a rematch. 

In that misty state between wakefulness and dreaming, Professor T heard voices declaring California and the i25 corridor in Colorado the playground of the devil… spiritual warfare … good-vs-evil. There’s mention of a manifesto that reads like the Anarchists Cookbook for prepper GAR compatriots… lots of tactical advice. For example, in The Biblical Basis for War: A Plan For Creating a New Theocracy Through Violence. First, “Make an offer of peace before declaring war.” This offer would not be a negotiation or compromise of perceived righteousness. Non Christians MUST surrender on terms of the GAR’s brand of justice, including the halting of all abortions, same sex marriage, idolatry, occultism (read: no Wicca, or anything resembling paganism), no communism (whatever that’s supposed to mean), and all must obey biblical law (like the Taliban in Afghanistan). Those who comply must pay the GAR’s taxes and those males who refuse… will be killed… read that again… they. will. be. killed!

“Comply or die.” Jack was hip to the irony of folks displaying Gadsden Flags with a snake expressing a desire that tyrannical government entities refrain from stepping near them… the folks who trumpeted warnings of a nationwide gun confiscation and establishment of concentration camps by the previous administration were now silent as their own political party’s federal government was snapping up abandoned warehouses for the stated purpose of facilitating mass deportation of illegal immigrants. As well, sending divisions of armed goon squads into cities run by political opponents.

“Irony is dead,” Jack mumbled as Professor T voiced his increasing apprehension approaching the GAR. 

“Yes, dead, but unacknowledged irony doesn’t mean mixing with the folks in the GAR could be dangerous… yet.” Professor T cued up an interview featuring a librarian from the Coeur d’Alene area who had spent time in law enforcement during the bad old days when Neo-Nazi groups had set up compounds in the area, some taking their views to extremes with the murder of 1980s talk radio personality, Alan Berg. She said she was certain Idaho would not allow that sort of militant activity again. 

“But still,” Jack’s 6th sense was tingling. He was worried they might run into some trouble poking around asking questions of the GAR locals. 

“Not to worry,” Buck was listening to Jack and Professor T’s conversation. “I know plenty of rodeo dudes from Northern Idaho, and they say all of that great secessionist redoubt talk is empty bluster. You know, like in Iran when they chant ‘Death to America’. Really, all they’re saying is they don’t like our one sided approach to Middle East diplomacy. It’s how they express dissatisfaction.”

“Take the goddamn next exit,” Sam Jackson barked from Siri’s Drunk Sister’s bluetooth audio link.

“Well, i don’t much care about politics, but i am hungry,” Billie had to weigh in as she steered the Chool Bus into a truck stop somewhere around Idaho Falls. “Let’s get some truck stop food.”

NEXT WEEK:
Professor T steps in it again, and Billie arranges a mineral hot spring rendezvous with a kindred spirit.

GO BACK => Preface and Chapter Links