Sanctuary

(Source)

Most of us are no doubt familiar with the expression -

A man's home is his castle.

Which has never meant that a fellow could do as his pleases under his own roof. William Pitt (the Elder) said, in 1763 -

"The poorest man may in his cottage bid defiance to all the forces of the crown. It may be frail - its roof may shake - the wind may blow through it - the storm may enter - the rain may enter - but the King of England cannot enter." (Source)

'Tis even spelled out in Blackstone's Commentaries upon the Laws of England -

And the law of England has so particular and tender a regard to the immunity of a man's house, that it stiles it his castle, and will never suffer it to be violated with impunity: agreeing herein with the sentiments of ancient Rome, as expressed in the words of Tully; “quid enim sanctius, quid omni religione munitius, quam domus unusquisque civium?*” (Source)

I suppose nowadays one shouldn't say "a man's home" but rather "a person's home" to include those of both genders (sorry boys and girls, there are only two, it is a binary thing, no matter how you might "identify") and to be all, ya know, inclusive. But I'm wandering away from my point, as I am wont to do. (If you wish, blame Cicero for saying "man.")

That opening photo (Kumamoto Castle in Japan for those who didn't chase the link) is rather the mental picture I have of my own home. The folks in the right foreground (which gives you idea of the size of the castle, my house is rather smaller) are the outside world. They can come in, but only with my permission. Provided of course that The Missus Herself has already okayed that.

My home is my sanctuary, where I go to get away from the world. While we do stay abreast of current events, it doesn't dominate our lives. Often I will only hear of the latest catastrophe/controversy/cataclysm/what-have-you if it is mentioned on the sports radio station I listen to or someone at work broaches the topic.

While you might find that puzzling ("What Sarge, you don't stay aware of current events?") I only care about the "news I can use." Will it snow/rain/sleet/hail today? Will there be high winds or flooding or invasions of Little Rhody? Will the price of gasoline prohibit me from filling my tank on any given day? Things of that nature.

Many current events which come into my ken are poorly reported and (worse) poorly understood by those reporting them. As an amateur historian I take a longer view of things which don't impact me and mine directly. (The economy and the military are both things I like to stay abreast of, the former for monetary reasons, the latter for professional reasons. The two often intersect in my line of work.)

As long as I have a job, my kids have jobs, my relatives have jobs (should they so desire them, my Mom is of an age where she doesn't work anymore, which she did until fairly recently) and so long as we all have our health, things are peachy in my world.

Truth be told, I care about my friends as well, but misfortunes in their lives won't necessarily impact the well-being of my clan. That's me keeping an eye on the "big picture" but understanding that my actions have to be local (within my household) first and foremost.

I am reluctant to have just anyone into my home. Solicitors, Jehovah's Witnesses, Fuller Brush men (do they even still have those?), wandering mendicants, minstrels, and the like need not apply.

Had some political fellow come to the door once rather insistent that I should listen to his views on the state of the state of Little Rhody and the Nation. Furthermore would I sign his petition? After being told that I wasn't interested, not even a little, he just kept going on and on. When I informed him that he was trespassing on private property and would he leave voluntarily or would the intercession of the local constabulary be required, he unassed the premises rather expeditiously.

Family are always welcome as are close friends. Casual acquaintances and work colleagues are well-advised to call ahead first. Expect to be told that the time is inconvenient but can I meet you somewhere else. As my home is my sanctuary I am reluctant to open it to just anyone.

While I'm not this insistent on my privacy...

(Source)

There have been times.

Which reminds me of a story. (Natürlich.)

One day, a few years back, quite a few actually, think ten, I was driving down the street which leads to my own when I smelled a smell which while familiar, is not something you want to emanate from your personal automotive conveyance. The smell of hot metal. Think "hot brakes."

As I was close to home, less than a hundred yards, I decided to go ahead and motor on. And yes, the smell got worse. When I pulled into the driveway I jumped out to locate the location of the smell. Lo and behold the left rear wheel of my vehicle was actually on fire. So think "really hot brakes."

I dashed to the back yard, grabbed the garden hose, turned on the spigot and dashed back to the driveway. Now The Missus Herself, having witnessed this antic behavior on my part, came to the door and inquired as to "what the heck are you doing?"

"The car is on fire, call 911. Tell them that the car is on fire."

"Which part of the car is on fire?" she wanted to know.

"Just call 911 damn it, I'll give you the specifics later!" (And yes, I paid dearly for that "damn it" bit later on. In case you were wondering.)

As I hose down the hot brakes, the flames subside and up rolls the fire department. Followed by a cop. I explain to the fireman what happened, what I did, etc., and he's giving the whole mess a good look-see to make sure that the conflagration is indeed out and that my vehicle poses no danger to the neighborhood.

I am, of course, cheek by jowl with the fireman as I too wish to make sure that nothing is going to blow up, burst into flames, etc. At which point the cop walks over and tells me, while I am standing in my own driveway mind you, "Sir, I need you to step back from the vehicle."

Both the fireman and I turned to look at the cop.

"Now Sir."

Okay, maybe I had a bit too much adrenaline in my system but I blurted out, "Really Dick Tracy? You're telling me to step away from my own car, on my own property?"

"Uh..." sayeth the constable.

"Seriously dude, get off my property. We called in a fire, not a crime. Why are you even here?" I admit, I was a bit riled up at that point.

When the three firemen all started laughing, the police officer realized that he was being just a tad overbearing and went back to his car. Then drove off.

No, I haven't had a lot of traffic citations since then. None actually. Why do you ask?






* What more sacred, what more strongly guarded by every holy feeling, than a man's own home? - Marcus Tullius Cicero