Give the Guy a Break

We need to give Oscar Pistorius a break. The South African Olympic Champion accused of shooting his model girlfriend says he thought he was shooting a burglar. Folks, that’s an easy mistake to make in South Africa. As we all know from watching the National Geographic channel, pretty much all South African burglars resemble hot, blonde models. It’s a fact. And the first thing a South African burglar will do after breaking and entering is go to the bathroom and lock the door.

That explanation does sound a little balmy – a lot balmy, even. Let me start over. Imagine you’re sleeping in a dark room. You awaken and hear noises coming from the bathroom. You realize there are two possibilities. One, your partner is using the bathroom. Two, an intruder has scaled the wall of your gated community, placed a ladder to the window of your bathroom, climbed up and entered the bathroom, then locked the door and is using the potty. You find the latter explanation so compelling that you don’t even bother sliding your arm over to see if your partner is still in bed.

At this point you have two courses of action. One, you get up, knock on the bathroom door, and ask, “Honey, are you in there? Are you okay?” Two, you get up, grab your pistol, go to the bathroom, and begin firing shots through the door, aiming to hit anyone using the potty.

When I put it that way, it doesn’t sound any better. Let me try this from a different angle.

Pistorius’ defense team says he is innocent of intentionally murdering his girlfriend. They say what he meant to do was intentionally murder an intruder using the john.

I’m explaining this all wrong. Let’s skip that part.

Police say they found .38 caliber ammunition in Pistorius’ home. That would be illegal as Pistorius isn’t licensed to own a .38 caliber firearm. Pistorius says the ammo isn’t his. So there. (I wonder if that excuse would work if police detectives found weed in my kitchen cabinet. Me: “Hey, it’s not mine.” Detective: “Oh. Well then, never mind.”)

Police say they found hypodermic needles and two boxes of testosterone in Pistorius’ home. Pistorius’ lawyer says, “Oh that! That’s not testosterone. That’s, uh, a healthy herbal remedy.” Or words to that effect. I don’t know about you, but I find it completely reasonable that after eating a hearty breakfast – perhaps Wheaties, the Breakfast of Champions – Pistorius would take his morning health supplement by sticking a syringe in his ass.

Oy. I’m still explaining this wrong.

All we know for sure is that a beautiful, young woman is dead and apparently it’s no one’s fault.

Well, maybe it’s her fault. After all, she is the one who got up to use the lavatory without telling her boyfriend, “Honey, I’m going to the bathroom; please don’t shoot me while I’m gone.”