Sunday, July 17, 2011


Ho-hum. Yawn. zzzzzzzzzzz. I guess a blogger could blog a pretty big blog each day dawg, each day down here in South Florida on the subject of senile seniors, gas pedals and the wild havoc they cause down here . . . blog each day and still never cover it all, dawg.

Seldom doth a day passeth, it seems, unless some local Sunshine senile confuses the gas pedal for the brake pedal, then proceeds to blast a large hole through a post office wall, rocket right off a tall bridge or mow down a row of innocent mail boxes. Two cases in point:

Up at nearby Venice the other evening, old David Rosenberg and his bride, Sue, pulled into the parking lot of a local seaside restaurant. ‘Twas Sue’s 75th and the couple planned on a nice, quiet, uneventful dinner, just the two of 'em.

Of course, David was just a normal old dude as Florida old dudes go; just one of our average senile seniors who become befuddled by seemingly anything and everything that shares their environment. And so, as soon as Dave spotted a vacant parking place he did what any other normal 70-, 80-, or 90-year-old Florida driver would do, viz., he became “confused” and instead of tapping his brakes for a nice, gradual stop, he hit the gas pedal and floored the sucker. Like a cruise missile, the Rosenberg’s car rocketed through a fence, flew over a low seawall and speeeelash, the vehicle sailed right out into the harbor.

Fortunately for the now nautical couple, a number of Lone Ranger types saw the flying car and quickly rode to the rescue. Said one of those would-be heroes who dove in:

“When my head comes up out of the water I’m right by the driver’s side. The guy looks at me like I am a burglar or an alien. I am pounding on the window, telling him to take off his seat belt. I see the woman. They are staring at me like, who the heck are you? They are in shock.”

The Rosenbergs were in a state of “shock” alright, but it had nothing to do with the deep sea plunge; it was their natural condition. Despite the frantic attempts of the rescuers, the couple seemingly would do nothing to save themselves and continued to just stare at the efforts of the men outside.  Finally, one of the men grabbed a hammer from the dock and beat out the back window. Just as the water was up to the Rosenberg’s necks and the car prepared to take the plunge, a strong arm reached down and lifted the couple to safety. 

One might imagine that after such a close shave, the Rosenbergs would be profuse in their gratitude. One might imagine that after a narrow escape from death the soaked couple would get on their knees and thank not only the men but God almighty for deliverance.  If one imagined all that one would imagine all wrong. There is nota jota whatsoever that the elderly couple even said “thanks” to the good Samaritans. I suspect that even days after the mishap Dave and Sue still haven’t a clue as to what happened and by now both have probably driven off several more piers around the region.

Regardless of the Rosenbergs, the City of Venice held a ceremony to honor the rescuers and the three heroes were awarded . . . were awarded . . . were awarded . . . well, they were awarded awards, that’s what they were awarded. My suggestion to Venice is to place another order for a dozen more such awards and have them handy since there are plenty of seniles out there like the Rosenbergs who’ll need rescuing after they drive into the bay or crash into burning buildings.

One might think that such an incident would be more than enough excitement for one week, but no. . . .

Just up Charlotte Bay, at North Port, some crazy old loon, “for reasons still undetermined,” suddenly turned off busy U.S. Highway 41 and, in broad daylight, headed straight down . . . a bike path! The driver continued speeding along the narrow paved trail for a quarter of a mile! She might have continued on and on in her lala-fruitcake-whacked out ride had not a bridge stood between her car and a gator-infested creek (by smashing into the bridge the addled woman just missed soaring straight into the creek).

I wonder if ANYONE—say a politician who doesn’t give a flip about getting reelected--has considered making it much tougher for senile seniors down here to renew their driver’s licenses. Certainly a significant percentage of these people are perfect menaces and should be stripped of their God-given right to kill the rest of us. I am so tired of reporting on these endless stories that I will ignore them hence. The reader must just assume that with every week that passeth two or three such senile things occur down here.