Friday, October 19, 2012

Freaky Freaky Friday





Always something strange happening down the coast at Fort Myers.  Every week, it seems, there is another pedophile sting (the perv gene pool seems inexhaustible down there), or some pistol-packing paranoid shoots some schmo salesman selling something door-to-door, or some looney-toon runs nude through a church, or . . . well, you get the point.  And so. . . .

Yet another ambulance crash in Fort Myers, fittingly, on Corkscrew Road.  Now with lights flashing and siren blasting, one has to be almost brain dead to not spot an approaching laser light show.  Certainly, one needs to be not only dead dog deaf, but bat s--t blind, not to see an ambulance coming from not just a mile down the street but from two counties over.  But apparently 32-year-old Alain Charlot saw none of this as he—yep--smashed smack into an approaching meat wagon.  Although no one in the ambulance was seriously hurt, Alain has some tall explaining ahead in his future.  None of us likes to see an ambulance in a wreck since our mind’s eye automatically sees ourselves in there, already dying from something grievous, and then some deaf, dumb and/or drunken idiot adds to our problems. 

Oddly (or maybe not so oddly), the ambulance involved in this incident was speeding around with lights and siren blazing and no one in the back; since there is nary a note to indicate the vehicle was racing to an emergency, it makes one wonder if the driver and his pal, the EMT, just had a tall heapa hankering for some Dunkin Doughnuts.

Still, rather sobering.  If certain-certain people cannot see a large white breadbox with a wild laser show approaching on the street, what luck does someone like me on a bike have?*

At about the same time, also at Fort Myers, a 75-year-old man walked into a firing range/gun store and expressed interest in making a purchase.  No problem, said the clerk as he handed over a pistol with some ammo and pointed the fellow to the firing range out back.  The gentleman plugged away at targets for 20 minutes, then promptly decided the pistol was just what he was looking for.  Cocking the hammer the man put the barrel to his head and blew his brains all over the place. 

Ouch!  I have nothing against people killing themselves; in fact, in a world of pedophiles, meth addicts and murderous monsters, it is a pity more do not try it on.  I do, however, have a problem when these people do their business on a public stage.  Not only is there the trauma involved of suddenly and unexpectedly witnessing the gory event but the self-murderer is leaving for others a very nasty mess to clean up; that final act, I think, is the height of selfishness.  If one is in a rush and can’t wait for nature to take its course, then please just buy a firearm, go to a steep, secluded river bank, then squeeze the trigger.  Your body will tumble into the water, gators and turtles will happily act as funeral directors and your family will save thousands of dollars and be spared the trauma of seeing your corpse.

Oddly, this is the third such shooting range suicide in Florida this year.  

*Note—Michelle called this morning to state that she saw lots of cops around a crumpled bike on busy HWY 776 this morning.  A single tennis shoe was all that remained.  Sobering.

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