What if it was your house, not “the” House, that was stormed January 6?

Let’s bring this controversy down to a more personal scale

I keep hearing from some quarters that what happened in Washington on January 6, 2021, wasn’t an “insurrection” at all, just a bunch of giddy, patriotic American citizens touring the U.S. House of Representatives while wearing funny clothes and chanting about hangings that they never intended to actually perform. And any time a crowd that big gets moving, things get, you know, broken. Chill out.

I think the problem may be that the scale of this event may have been too large and too distant for some folks to wrap their heads around.

So, let’s shrink the January 6 “happening” down to a smaller, neighborhood dimension.

Let’s say, hypothetically, that I believe that you, my neighbor, stole my lawn mower.

I have no proof of this. I didn’t see you do it, but I’m naturally suspicious since, well, I know a lot people are out to get me. Moreover, my lawn mower is important to me. It’s a big, fancy mower, and I like riding it around my big lawn. I don’t really like mowing, but I like being seen on my mower. It’s a status symbol.

I have repeatedly accused you, my neighbor, of stealing my mower, and you’ve told me repeatedly I’m full of crap. Still, you allowed several local officials, including the sheriff, to search your house and outbuildings not once but three times.

They say there’s no lawn mower to be found, that maybe I just lost my mower.

I say, “Well, they’re either blind or crooked. I know you have my lawn more. I just know it. There’s no other way my lawn mower could have disappeared.”

I start making calls, sending out emails, texts, tweets to my golf buddies, fellow mower lovers and Facebook friends. “Come gather at my house on the 6th,” I say. “We’re going to put an end to this big steal. If we don’t do it now, my neighbor is gonna get rid of the mower, maybe sell it. I’ll never see it again.”

Comes the 6th, a crowd gathers in my yard — 100, maybe 200 people, huge. I come out on my front steps, pick up my megaphone. I remind them of what’s at stake, what an injustice this is, what this loss means to me, and I urge them to march across the street to your house and demand that you produce my lawn mower and give it back.

They hotfoot it over to your yard, yelling, chanting, stomping on the your marigolds, crushing your azaleas. They start banging on your front door, breaking windows. Your children and two of their playmates and your visiting mother- and father-in-law go down into your basement, fearing for their lives. You phone my house, praying you can get me to call it off, make my people stop, but I don’t answer. I’m out on my front porch, watching the party through my binoculars. Wow! It’s flattering.

You call 911. The police come and rush up to protect you and your property. The cops are overwhelmed. One gets knocked down with a garden rake and kicked unconscious while he’s down. Another cop, desperate, shoots one of my people. But others force their way into your house and begin pulling your books off the shelves, overturning furniture, breaking your dishes, grabbing ketchup and mustard out of your fridge and squirting the contents on the floor.

“Where’s the mower?” they shout. “Where’s the mower?”

Reinforcements arrive. Faced with more cops, my friends retreat, flee your house. A few get nabbed as they exit, but mostly the cops just take photos, images they can use later.

When the cops interview me, I say, “Hey, it wasn’t that bad, more like a social visit that got a little rowdy. I mean, they did knock first.”

You, meanwhile, are being pissy about the whole encounter. You claim — “claim “— that your pets and your in-laws and children are traumatized, that $75,0000 damage was done to your home, and that you’ve lost your hearing in your left ear.

You say you are coming after me. You’re gonna get me put in jail

I say, “Bring it on. I’ve got more lawyers than you can shake a rake at. And besides, I didn’t do anything wrong. I just told my friends what I know is true. You stole my lawn mower.”

Do I deserve to pay damages or go to jail for this? Me? Seriously?