Another Kind Of Justice

 The second Senate impeachment trial continues today.  But I am going to talk about another kind of justice:  the poetic kind.

One fine day in 2017, Juli Briskman rode her bike in Sterling, Virginia.  Minivans passed beside her.  That in itself is not unusual. Even the fact that they were black would not have been noteworthy, especially given the proximity of Ms. Briskman's route to the nation's capital city.

But she knew who was in one of those vehicles:  the owner of the nearby golf course. She made a gesture toward him because she knew he probably wouldn't have heard what she might have said:  Truck Fump.

All right, that's an anagram of what she could have said.  So you know what kind of gesture she made.  Who among us has not made it at motorists who cut us off or did other things to endanger us?

Normally, such an incident would go unnoticed.  But someone posted it, and it went viral.  Someone brought it to the attention of her employer--a government contracting firm.  As a result, she lost her job as a marketing executive because her bosses decided she'd violated the company's code of conducted.

Now, there are all kinds of ways people deal with the loss of their jobs.  They depend mainly on the fired employee's circumstances and temperament:  They can look for another job, sue, go into business for themselves, go back to school or pursue something they've always wanted to do, among other things.

Juli Briskman decided to run for office.

In November, she won a seat in the Algnonkian District of the Loudon County Board of Supervisors.  Sworn in last month, her new job includes overseeing leisure facilities.  

In that capacity, she's already helped to build bicycle lanes in her district.  Oh, and she's worked to remove a Confederate monument and release funds for COVID-19 relief.

And she's a Democrat.

Hmm...a Democrat working to build bike lanes and remove Confederate monuments--and release funds for COVID-19 relief.  In just a few weeks, she's managed to accomplish three things Mango Mussolini would hate.  It sounds like poetic justice to me.

Photos in this post by Brendan Smialowski, from Getty Images.

From Her Saddle To A Seat On The Board?

I'll admit I've flipped off, um, a few drivers in my time.  More than likely, anyone who's cycled in New York can say the same thing.

I'll also admit there were times I could have been more temperate.  But I'll also say that there were times when said motorists deserved my wrath.

A woman we saw back in October could say the same for someone who passed her:





That is how she greeted El Cheeto Grande.  As a result, she lost her job.

Juli Briskman's suit against her former employer, Akira LLC, was dismissed.  She then saw two options:  Keep on fighting an uphill battle in court, or try to change the laws herself.  "After lots of conversations I decided I would be more effective on the board," she recalls.

She's talking about the Board of Supervisors in Loudoun County, where she lives.  She plans to run in the Northern Virginia locale where the Board is mostly Republican but voters often choose Democrats, as they did for Hilary Clinton in 2016.

People have told her that even though his views aren't hers, she should respect the office of the president.  She disagrees, saying "I think the Constitution grants me that privilege" of expressing her opinion as she did on that day while the President headed back to the capital from the Trump National Golf Course in Virginia.

Would you vote for her?  I would.