For starters, “The Captain had turned on the Fasten Your Seatbelt Sign.” So buckle up.

I need to draw your attention right away to certain facts that I believe should be obvious, but due to everyone’s performative heightened sensitivities these days, aren’t.

1. This is a WordPress blog called Captain’s Log. I am a pilot. I was a pilot in the Air Force. You don’t need to know anything beyond this combination of demographics (male, writes blogs, flys aircraft professionally, did so in the USAF) to be certain that I am white.

2. This teenage step-son I have referred to is a step-son. Step. That means I am not some happy-go-lucky Academy Grad who adopts African orphans to keep up with the Joneses. In order to have a BIPOC (African—not African-American/Black) step-son, I must be married to a BIPOC wife.

3. This is one level deeper, but given that he is my step-son, I think it is fair for anyone to assume that in his mom’s eyes, he is an angel and can do no wrong. In other words, there is absolute and comprehensive discord when it comes to raising him.

Let’s move on to certain facts that are not available to even faithful followers.

A. He currently is testing the waters of HS Track and Field.

B. His haircut is near identical to the alleged murderer’s.

C. I have seen him taunt his opponents (in basketball) in similar language to “Touch me and see what happens.”

D. He and I haven’t spoken many words for over a year now. This silence went into effect basically since a time when circumstances led to me checking his phone and finding atrocious garbage, to include a selfie of him flipping off the camera (which also exists for the alleged murderer). In ol’ fashioned American Dad style, I subsequently took a hacksaw to his phone. He hasn’t had one since. And he lies so much that I have decided to back off rather than “fight, fight, fight.” (Which would be with BOTH him and his mom/my wife.) Additionally, I agree with the general philosophy, “There is no point in communication if there is no truth.”

Got the picture?

Backing up, regarding the dead twin, I find great consolation in Mark Twain’s humor. Perhaps you will too. He wrote

In other words, in the fullest sense, between the black kid and the white kid, the black kid got the shaft—what a stupid thing to do.

When I tell whites about the demographic decisions of my life, they reward me with such reactions as, “That is sooooo interesting,” and, “That’s what I love about you, Pete!” It feels good. It feels amazing. They are right. And “interest” is at least half the reason I live how I live. Who wants a boring life?

But the truth is that I also love America and believe in my heart of hearts that I have an excellently formed and accurate appreciation for what exactly America is. And I want America to do what stands before it as possible—even if it still feels unlikely. I mean, I want America to be a post-racial country. Let’s mix it up like no one has and enjoy the unpredictable result. What is the saying? “Variety is the spice of life.”

But no. No one else wants that. Nope. Instead, my dreams have resulted in having a step-son who models himself after thugs and a wife who indulges him at every step.

As I have read the interweb’s reactions and trolls, I have come across this tit-for-tat notion where the Black responds, “Sure, when you first hear there is a murder and one person is White and one Black, you are right to guess that the murderer is Black.” Then they add the kicker, “But when we hear that a school shooting has occurred, everyone knows it is a White kid.”

I also grant this assessment.

The enormous difference, and one which affects me directly, is every White purposely dresses different than school shooters! And in the cases where there is some similarity, it is honest-to-goodness poverty or ignorance that has led to it. No White kids (except the seemingly unending supply of actual copycat killers) are imitating the school shooters’ appearance.

School Shooters are LOSERS! It is why they do it. They are losers with no imagination, no creativity, no hope, and access to guns. Losers. They are people who I purposely avoid and counsel everyone to avoid. They are losers who I want nothing to do with. They are terribly easy to spot. And they are pitiful. Leave them alone and report them anytime they do something that can keep them from shooting up schools!

With this Black kid, the same cannot be said. How he looks and how he acts is exactly the way my immigrant step-son has determined is how “cool” looks and acts. Take any run-of-the-mill Black celebrity-filled room, and this kid would have fit right in—same for my step-son. But the school shooter losers? They got beat up for showing up. That’s why they are convinced they are losers and see no way out but violence.

My first instinct when I saw the Black kid’s picture(s)? I wanted to tell my wife to take my step-son to get a proper haircut. Do I seriously believe that something as seemingly trivial as a hairstyle can change a life? Absolutely. How do I know? Because it ain’t about the hairstyle. It is about the fact that some parenting is happening. Some adjustments. Some common sense. Some reality.

What have I actually done after this tragedy? Nothing. Why not? Let me reference a not-so-famous quote from a beloved crime saga.

Neil McCauley (appearance completely like the cop sitting across from him) says to Vincent Hannah (I have a movie poster over my beloved piano of the very coffee table scene):

“You see me doin’ thrill-seeker liquor store holdups with a ‘Born to Lose’ tattoo on my chest?”

In other words, my time with my wife and my step-son has persuaded me of that which even believably portrayed criminals know to be the truth: Some folks are born to lose.

There are days when I avoid considering how much damage this “interesting” kid can do to my life and family (future legal troubles that my wife insist I pay to help as one example). But they are not the majority.