Wow.
Laying on the beach bench on the home half of my daily duel with death--aka
16-mile bike ride--I felt something wet hit my cheek. I wiped it off, looked up, saw nary a cloud
or gull, but did sight buzzards circling over head. UGH!
I
read the other day that Florida, year-in, year-out, leads the nation in bicycle
deaths. Despite California having twice
the peeps, nope, ‘tis the Sunshine State which kills my breed off quicker than
any. I allow it has something to do with
not merely the number of comrades down here biking year-round, but also has a
little to do with the millions of modern mature motorists, aka bat-shit crazy
geezers, on the roads confusing we bikers for post office walls.
Just
in the last week, locally, four or five bikers have bit the dust, have kissed
the canvas, have assumed room temperature, have started counting worms, and so
on, and not a one of them was drunk. Nope. All sober.
Although most of the fatalities seem to be of the recreational variety,
i.e., those who bike to stay fit, a growing percentage are folks whose only
mode of movement is staggering, crawling on all fours or biking. IOW, those who have lost driver’s licenses
due to DWI’s and are out at all times of the night, sober-but-seeking-booze,
are increasingly biting the big one, are taking the dirt nap, etc., etc.,
etc.
When
a newspaper report states that “Harry B. Wildman, 58, of Homeless Acres” was
not wearing a helmet when he was flattened crossing a six-lane highway at dark
thirty Saturday night, that’s a pretty clear indication Harry was not a
recreational biker. When the report adds
that Wildman was run over and squashed like a squirrel, that also is a sure
sign that when smote Harry was sober as a rock since boozed-up bikers, no
matter if it is a two-ton car, a ten-ton truck or twenty-ton Abrams Tank that
runs over them, since drunk cyclists are
NEVER killed. Almost certainly,
homeless, hopeless, hapless, and now, harmless, Harry was out looking to get
high at that time of night; but it’s equally certain he was still stone sober
when flat-lined, when greased, when iced, etc.
Late
Wednesday night, ten miles north, 52-year-old biking booze bag, Jody Gregory,
rode right into the meat grinder on busy U.S. 41 and was hit and run over by
about a dozen vehicles. Although his
hair got mussed up a bit and his bike was totaled, the fact that Jody was dead
dumb drunk during the accident guaranteed that he would be out running around
stupid again within days, if not hours.
Since cops plan on charging Jody with drunk driving and since they can’t
take away that which was already tooken away long ago, namely his license, they
will instead seize Gregory’s bike when he gets around to stealing a new one.
___________________________________________
Another lovely stat that Florida leads
the nation in is sinkholes. I won’t get
into the geology of sinkholes except to say that there is a lot of H2o down
there under Florida and it eats away at the earth above, especially up in the
Tampa area. This area is known as
“Sinkhole Alley.”
And so, this week, once more up near
Tampa. . . . With memories still vivid from last winter when that poor beggar
was swallowed whole at Seffner, once more people are running for their
lives. Now, can you imagine any terror
greater than the thought of sleeping soundly in your own bed one moment and next
moment . . . BOOM! you are being flushed and drowned in a dirt toilet?
Thus, when a homeowner was awakened one morning this week by a sound “like a sledgehammer pounding on the wall,” not only he but the entire neighborhood fled from what they knew was Return of the Hole Monsters.
"After the Seffner sinkhole, we were scared. . . ,” said the homeowner with heavy understatement. “Now it looks like our house is gone."
As the hole grew, it swallowed the
man’s porch, his new boat and is now working on what’s left of the property. A
neighbor's swimming pool and a portion of that home have fallen in the well as
well.
Who, I ask, who in their right mind
would even stay at a motel in this area much less buy a home there? “Sinking property values” takes on a whole
new meaning in this three-county area of Florida.
___________________________________________
Senile Sinkholes—The “Letters to the Editor” in our local fish wrap are a treasure trove of illiteracy and ignorance each day and consequently they are a mine of unintended amusement and amazement. For most people, this is it--this is that proverbial fifteen minutes of fame; this is where they can strut their stuff, this is where they can see their name in print; this is where they can prove to the world what trenchant thinkers and witty writers they are. Some of the mangled logic of these people is priceless. These absurd attempts to seem serious and philosophical seem instead like some inane contest to see who can come off looking most oldest, most slowest and most stupidest. Let’s call it the Geezer Karaoke.
After prattling along for two
nonsensical paragraphs about Obama and Hillary and prayer and communism and
“the emperor who wore no clothes” and Benghazi and whatever, one upset
fossilista, let’s call her Clara, gets to the crux of her argument (I guess):
As
an elderly Christian, it is so sad to see our wonderful country become an
immoral Communist country. And it makes
me remember how no one could understand how Hitler was able to do what he
did. But the ignorant people outnumbered
the educated. They allowed him to remove
the Holy Bible and all of their guns.
Sound familiar? Dr. Ben Carson
was like a “voice crying in the wilderness.”
But, it’s going to take vigilance from all of us if we want God to bless
America.
Not sure what Ben Ghazi and Ben
Carson “crying in the wilderness” have in common. Not sure about
“Communism” and “elderly Christians” either.
But dragging poor Hitler into the fray has long since become standard
stock for these simple-minded seniles like Clara. When the Clara’s of the world have no
explanations for why the “wonderful world” they once knew has mysteriously gone
to hell in a hand basket--whether it be from creeping communism or whether it
be from a sewer back up down the block--might as well dump the load on
Hitler.
For Clara’s info, tho I’m sure it is
pointless to point it out to someone as far gone as she is: Hitler did not ban
guns; nor did Hitler ban the Holy Bible; nor did he ban smoking, drinking,
thinking, or breathing.
What Hitler did ban, however--and
I’m sure Clara will be equally irate to hear this--he DID ban free cheese . . .
he DID ban bingo . . . he DID ban "early-bird specials". . . he DID
ban Lawrence Welk reruns . . . and Hitler, to his great credit, did ban senile
seniors from writing incoherent "letters to the editor.”
Moral: When in doubt, blame it on
Hitler. No one will notice and you'll
look way wiser than you really are.
