PC headhunters make trophy of decent, veteran cop
Joe Fitzgerald
Tom Concannon, as mayor of Newton, at least has an excuse for kowtowing
to the lunatic fringe: He's up for re-election in a city nearly as
nutty as Brookline or Cambridge.
"Look," he pleads, "it's a different world from the one you and I
remember. Now I'm more pragmatic. I won't even listen to jokes I used
to tell three years ago. I subscribed to Playboy 35 years ago and - can
you believe it? - that became an issue in my last campaign."
Little wonder, then, that when another issue surfaced this week, one
that raised Pavlovian passions in the homosexual community, Concannon
did what any "pragmatic" pol would do, tossing principle to the wind in
accepting the resignation of a veteran cop whose only offense was
political incorrectness.
Capt. John Parker, who joined the Newton force 35 years ago, back when
Concannon was ogling Playboy, created a furor with an offhand remark
that implied no malice whatsoever, though malice was immediately
inferred by those with an ax to grind.
"Two guys were getting promoted, and the chief asked me to go, just to
make a showing," he recalled yesterday. "So I showed up at City Hall
and was shaking hands with everybody. But it was so hot and miserable I
was sweating like a pig."
When he spotted Alderman Richard Bullwinkle, also clearly discomforted
by the humidity, Parker quipped, "If the city didn't give all that
money to the queers, this hallway could be air-conditioned."
It was a reference to a proposed city ordinance that would extend
health benefits to the same-sex "partners" of municipal employees.
"It was a private conversation between two people," Parker contends,
"and all it was intended to do was to pull the alderman's leg because
this is an issue he's going to have to vote on. It was one word that
took a tenth of a second to utter, and it wasn't meant to be hateful at
all. All of a sudden I'm reading that I'm homophobic, that I have to be
suspended and attend sensitivity training; meanwhile, I've got Channel
7 outside my house with its camera aimed at my front door.
"I said to my wife, `That's it. Who needs it? It's over.'
"What the hell did I do wrong? People who know me know this is
nonsense. It was never meant the way it's being portrayed. Besides,
don't I have a First Amendment right to free speech, too?"
The question was rhetorical.
When Queer Nation, the militant gay activist group, chants, "We're
here, we're queer, get used to it!," it's not only protected speech,
it's eagerly quoted by conventional media.
When San Francisco's Gay-Lesbian Parade, the largest in the nation,
proclaims the "Year of the Queer," that's also seen as witty.
But let a 61-year-old cop, half of whose life has been spent in the
service and defense of his community, use the same word in an entirely
innocent context, and his career goes down the drain.
"I'm free to speak now because I'm a civilian again," Parker said
yesterday. "I can say any damn thing I want. Look, I've been married 37
years, so I know what marriage means. Two people can walk in, say,
`Yeah, we're living together,' and we're supposed to tell them, `OK,
here's your free insurance?' And I pay for it? I don't hate anybody,
but this is ridiculous."
Concannon concedes there was no malice in Parker's comment to
Bullwinkle.
"I feel bad for him. But this is complicated. We have 57 languages
spoken in our schools. We're a very diverse community. He shouldn't
have said it the way he did."
"How should he have said it?" Concannon was asked.
"Well, if he'd said something like, `The money we're going to put into
this domestic partner issue might be better spent on air-conditioning.'
"
"If Captain Parker had said it that way, he'd still be employed?"
"Yes," Concannon replied.
Political correctness is not the word.
When a man who puts his life on the line for 35 years is told to take a
hike because someone chooses to take offense over a single word said in
jest, that's absolute madness.
Godspeed in your retirement, captain.
You deserved a lot better.
.
|
