I opened the paper to read the latest news.  Ok, honestly I read the headlines and then only follow the story if it sounds interesting or seems like something I should know.

I don’t read the sports section and usually finger, but skip, the financial page.  My favorite parts of the paper are the classifieds and the cross word puzzle, occasionally the political cartoon.  Oh and on Sunday, the coupons.  I love coupons!

I make myself look at every page to justify the expense, and the death of a tree.  I can’t imagine paying for a paper and not touching every single page, at least glancing to see if there is something interesting on it.  But I save the best parts for last like an eagerly anticipated dessert.

When I see an unusual headline like “Two men charged with assaulting handicapped man sentenced,” I skim the article.

Most of the time I skim and forget, thinking to myself..normal violence.  Normal meaning anytime there is a concentration of people, eventually there will be violence.  I grew up around violence so it takes something bigger than just assault to catch my attention.

I’m not sure if it was the word handicap that caught my eye.  Or, if there was nothing in the news and it was THE ONLY thing remotely interesting.  Doesn’t really matter, the point is I read the article.  Every.  Single.  Word.

Then I needed a shower.

Some things can’t be read and forgot, they stick like dog poop on the bottom of your shoe.  You think it’s dealt with, scrapped off, forgotten.  But then you get small whiffs the rest of the day forcing you to remember fecal matter and all it entails.

So, two men attacked a handicapped handyman in the men’s bathroom.  They put a plumbing snake (like used on toilets) in the man’s rectum.  Then they cranked it several times causing the man “severe pain and internal bleeding.”

I put the paper down and just sat, flabbergasted and a little annoyed I let myself get sucked into the article.

We need to know things like this happen, but at the same time I resent the telling.  I resent having to put that little bit of darkness in my grey matter.  I resent the way my mind replaces the handicap man with one of my children and how angry it makes me.  I resent sharing the horror of it with others to help alleviate some of the darkness…some of the smell of violence.  (And now you can resent me for giving you a whiff.)

It’s a vicious cycle.  I don’t want to know, but feel the need to know.  The more I know, the better I can protect my family.  But even more than that, I don’t want to be overwhelmed with human depravity.

Isolating myself from reality only makes the reality more powerful, more colorful, more overwhelming, when it breaks through the isolation.

So every morning I sit down, looking forward to my cross word puzzle, but somewhat dreading the poop I gotta walk through to get to dessert.