As you may have noticed — or possibly didn’t, though such news would be a definite blow to my over-inflated ego — last week I was on vacation.



Breaks are good. Time off is nice. But, in all honesty, I missed work. I went an entire week without being asked to make a Shawn Bunney joke on a whim, or chug something strong at lunch just to fit in. Without the Weekly Volcano, there was a gaping void in my life.



That void was felt most when it comes to this space — the Weekly Volcano editorial. Writing this column is — usually, anyway — the most fun I have all week; and the reaction it gets is something I look forward to with zeal. I went an entire seven days without being called stupid, or ignorant, or delusional, or stoned or even right on. I went an entire seven days without putting my thoughts on paper and letting all of Tacoma be the judge of the strange workings inside my head.



So, this week I’m coming back strong — with a topic that’s almost certain to make plenty of folks I respect and admire in Tacoma curse my name.



Let’s talk about bail bonds — specifically Aladdin Bail Bonds and the relatively new Scottfree Bail Bonds, which both call Ninth and Market home. Both businesses have sprouted in the last year and a half (or so), and their arrival seems to have many in this town peeved. They say — and I’m paraphrasing here — that bail bonds are a blight, that they’re unsavory, and they’d greatly prefer it if such businesses wouldn’t locate themselves in the heart of downtown — near treasured spots like Tacoma’s “theater district” and (gasp!) the city building. They say bail bond businesses should be located near the jail — seemingly blind to the fact that both aforementioned businesses are only 1,000 feet from said jail.



You see, Tacoma has this tendency. Rather than admitting what we really are — in this case, a town that’s home to the county jail and plenty of people who’ve spent time in that jail — we like to spin our image. We seem to prefer to omit the unsightly rather than face the facts. We want desperately to erase our down-and-out history, and anything that reminds us (or, more importantly, those that might judge us) of who we actually are or where we’re actually coming from is best swept under the rug — or so it often seems. We prefer the image of Tacoma we’ve erected in our minds over the real Tacoma — which may be easier to stomach over cheese and wine, but it’s miles from reality.



Does being forced to walk by a bail bonds business on your way to the theater ruin the experience, I wonder. If so, were you oblivious to the fact that the jail is a mere 1,300 feet away? What would you like Tacoma to be and why are you so unhappy with what it actually is?



And, if bail bond businesses bother you so, why not do something more constructive than simply bitching about their existence — like, say, volunteering at an organization that helps drug addicts kick the habit, or invests in at-risk youth, or helps former criminals find the straight and narrow.



After all, if you really want to shut down bail bond businesses — that’s the fastest way to do it.