I'm Convinced, Baltimore's In Denial...And Want To Remain

I could write a book on this, and if I live long enough, I probably will. There is a dark, dirty, disgusting story about Baltimore that hasn't yet been fully told. David Simon gave it a serious go, but overall low ratings and lack of independent support and verification led to the eventual canceling of HBO's The Wire. It was viewed as fiction. Entertaining yes, but mostly fiction.

The average citizen, if they only knew that in this day and age, an American city with such close proximity to Washington, DC can be this corrupt. The outrage would be uncontainable. Guess what, most people don't really know just how bad it is. It takes HBO dramas, it takes lone wolf investigative journalists, working without support, it takes privately started blogs.

Baltimore's true story of crime and corruption will someday be told. Sadly, some of us trying to tell it may not live to see this happen. No matter how much screaming and shouting is done, people still want to live in denial. For some time I've issued warnings in this space and my former home, The Baltimore Spectator. I know many see me as just some narcissistic, paranoid alarmist. That' s fine. Keep thinking about me and my issues.

The real issue is how nasty and corrupt this place is. People like me want to be part of the solution. Before solutions can be found, problems must be identified. In IDing problems, you can't pull punches. You have to be harsh and make it plain. When I tried to rescue my friend from alcoholism and addiction, I called him out. I was mean, I was rude, I was in his friggin face.

It was not easy for him or me. When I drove my truck out to his house. We loaded up all his belongings. I told him he was coming to stay with me so I could take care of him and help him out. For several months he stayed clean, worked for my business (yes, I once owned an old steel mill - diff. corp. name, I'm not stupid), and started to get his life in order.

One day his mother gave called me. It stopped me dead in my tracks. She told me his pole dancing, stripper sister had just died. I never knew her, but I knew my friend really loved her and was more concerned for her than for his own self. She was even more addicted than he was. Her biggest problem was she had a means to continually pay for and feed her addiction.

One night, totally strung out and thinking who knows what. She jumped into her cute little sports car and went for a ride. Investigators tell us when she crashed, the speedo was stuck well over 100 miles per hour. My friend was never the same since. Neither am I.

The stories of the street are so real. I've tried telling them, but had little support. I am not the only one. Now that the Baltimore Spectator is no more, if you truly care to see things better, you must support independent media. Why? Very simple. How many years has the Sun been here? How few stories of the true Baltimore underworld do they ever print? Have you read any there lately? When people like me try to contribute, they chase me away, I'm banned, my submissions are deleted without comment or explanation.

But I forgot, it's all about me. Guess I'm in denial too.