What a week

When I first heard the sentencing in real time on Friday for Derek Chauvin, the former Minneapolis police officer convicted of murdering George Floyd, I thought, man, he's getting off easy.

What I thought I heard the judge say was 270 months of imprisonment. I did some quick math in my head, which has never been a strong point for me. I should never do quick math in my head. I mean, I don't belong to Mensa. I thought, "Geez, that's only 10 years. He'll be out by next week."

Within moments, the racing chyron on the bottom of the TV screen cleared everything up. Chauvin was sentenced to 22.5 years. I heaved a sigh of relief. That's better. Much better.

But is it justice? Is it accountability? Chauvin is 45 years old and will likely serve the minimum of 15 years, which means he'll be 60 when he gets out. For murder. With a knee on Floyd's neck for 8 minutes and 46 seconds. With hands in his pockets and arrogance on his face. All while Floyd was in handcuffs, pleading for his life, until his life left him.

In my mind, there's no justice for a murder. How can there be when the victim no longer lives? Anything else is simply revenge, which for some, might be enough. Justice, however, would be Floyd still breathing with Chauvin imprisoned for civil rights violations.

Chauvin, in fact, still faces federal charges, which means there could be additional sentencing.

And accountability? The City of Minneapolis (and thus the employer of its police department) has already paid the Floyd family $27 million in a lawsuit settlement case. This helps, but true accountability also would include some sort of police reform. Otherwise, this kind of feels like Minneapolis is clapping its hands clean, whispering to itself, "Well, that's one less thing to worry about."

•  •  •

Earlier in the week, on Thursday, we woke up to the partial collapse of the Champlain Towers in Surfside, FL. The building is a 12-story structure that was built 40 years ago on reclaimed land.

Right now, 156 people are still missing. Five are confirmed dead, but with each passing hour it's likely the death toll will rise.

The thing that gets to me right now is watching the rescuers walk into the unstable rubble, sifting through the debris brick by brick, trying to locate survivors. I can't believe that kind of courage. That's got to be war-like courage. Courage under fire. They relentlessly work with the knowledge the rest of the building could tumble down on top of them at any moment. I hope Surfside has $27 million to pay these guys.

Anyway, I got to thinking about high-rise buildings built on reclaimed coastal plains. What greedy developer came up with that bright idea? Surfside has made it optional for nearby residents to evacuate their high rises as a safety measure. Optional. Like a vaccine.

My degree is in English and not engineering, but even my non-Mensa brain can speculate that building tall towers on saltwater marshes will probably compromise the supporting iron rebar in concrete. One engineer, in fact, has stated that the tower was sinking two millimeters a year for at least 30 years.

There are environmental concerns, too. Climate change is resulting in measurably higher sea levels. What does this mean for all the towers built on the three-feet above sea level coastline? And not just in Florida, but how about South Carolina and North Carolina as well.

I've never been a fan of high rises on everybody's Ocean Drive right on the beach. Sure, you get great views of the water for top-dollar prices, but at what cost? The high rises block out the sun and give you the sensation of driving through a concrete canyon. 

It's been a helluva week.