Monday, April 22, 2013

A Segue Sort of Day or, Life in the Death Lane

On most Florida streets, roads and highways, we have a fast lane, a slow lane and a death lane.
As if to accent what was said a few blogs back about these so-called bike lanes straddling busy streets and highways:  A 12-year-old kid over at Daytona trusted that white line to keep him safe while he was skateboarding; he had no reason to doubt the people who painted that white line or the elected officials who sanctioned those white lines because trust is a key component of a twelve-year-old’s mental makeup; trust at that age hasn’t  been entirely beat out of a kid yet.  So, the boy is now six feet under and twelve forever, and the white lines are still there luring the tweener skateboarder, the brain-dead thirty-something cyclists and the senile three-wheelers with their bizarre bulbulous helmets w/visors, as well as the mopeders, joggers, walkers, creepers, crawlers, and anyone else crazy enough to think that a painted white line will save them from a two-ton chunk of momentum moving at 55 MPH.  Sad fact is: A motorist does not need to be blind, drunk, drugged, or senile to run over someone in those death zones—one need just take their eye off the road for a second and someone is 12-, 33- or 75-years-old forever.
Speaking of Distraction--Two sixteen-year-old girls were cruisin’ the streets up at St. Pete last Friday night, just cussin’ and funnin’ and being young girls.  The driver took her eye of the road for a moment—maybe to see who was texting, maybe to sip a coke, maybe to light a joint—and that was quite enough.  In a sec, the car drifted across the slow lane, lurched across the bike lane, jumped the curb and crashed down the side walk.  When the vehicle finally came to a rest the shaken driver walked away. Her friend, however, was going no where.  The guard rail had crashed through the windshield and speared the young girl dead center, ending her life instantly.  Had a cyclist, a jogger or a skate boarder been in the death lane, they too would be part of the body count.
Up at Venice, a local thief and stoner was riding his bike around hoping to some way, some how, score some dope from some one.  Spotting an old lady creeping from a store, our biker boy saw dollar signs. Pedaling full tilt, it was a simple matter to jerk the purse loose and be gone in a flash.  Not so very long after, the culprit was seen sitting, for all the world to see, at a bus stop.  The thief was ID'ed, arrested, printed, mugged, jugged, and charged with “robbery by sudden snatching” (not to be confused with, I suppose, “robbery by slow snatching”).
Ironic Names Hall of Fame
Josh Stoner, 32, North Port, Florida (local thief and stone stupid stoner)
Speaking of NP--Over at Charlotte County Crime Central (aka North Port), seems like that on one certain-certain road there is a midnight murder or a domestic disturbance or a meth explosion or a high noon road rage incident virtually every 24.  I know it ain’t so, but at times it seems so.  Some poor duster was shot in the chest just the other day on the same road.   Since North Port is the epicenter of Charlotte County crime, let’s just say this road is the epicenter of North Port crime.
Ironic Mis-Names Hall of Fame
Harmony Road, North Port, Florida