Well, for some reason, the Gannett Star showed up on our doorstep today. I guess if they want to give it to us free, I won’t stop them. (Yes, I checked to make sure they hadn’t ignored my wife and done another autocharge on the Amex.)
On the other hand, apparently the WSJ subscription I signed up for last week has already expired??? And not been rebilled??? Or even billed??? Sigh. For a business-oriented newspaper it seems they don’t want my business very badly…
Anyway, I see in the local fishwarp that some idiot college freshman tried to play Tarzan the other night when the po-po showed up at the apartment door to calm the party down. And now all his friends are long-faced and holding cry sessions on the pavement where he ended up.
Now, I submit to you: Wouldn’t it have been a lot better for the kid to man up and take his medicine when the po-po came a-knockin’? A night in pokey or a citation for underage drinking would sure have been preferable to a broken neck or a busted head or whatever mortal injury he did himself on the concrete. (Who taught this kid to run from the cops?)
Seems like that’s the real lesson here. Either that, or “always make sure of your escape route.”
(Why no, as a matter of fact, I don’t have any sympathy for this kid. Except to say thanks for dumping a hefty dose of chlorine into the gene pool.)
EDITED TO ADD: And you know what really pisses me off? The kid’s family will probably sue the apartment owners for not having fencing or some such on the balcony so the kid couldn’t have possibly climbed over the rail. Or signs posted indicating one could lose one’s life if one went trying to swing from tree to, er, balcony to balcony. TORT REFORM NOW!