I have a lot of time on the job, and have spent way too many hours of what we all know to be a finite lifespan, Jimmy Dobson aside, explaining to outraged citizens that news is what happens — it’s neither good, nor bad, it’s what happens (and oh, yeah, the bad news gets more eyeballs).
Even so, this selection from today’s Bibleburg Gazette has me thinking about relocating to Mars:
Babe dies of suspected abuse; sailor father back in custody
Officials: Army suicides at 3-decade high
Report: 3 calls before police get frozen body
Soldier accused in woman’s killing faces new charge
Colorado man accused of threatening to kill Obama
I spared you the links. There’s probably plenty of equally grim news in your neighborhood. But probably nothing as depressing as 587 pounds of weed ending up in the hands of the fuzz after some dipshit in an SUV stacked it on I-25 near Walsenburg.
I got pulled over there back in ’72, in the early morning hours, with 10 pounds of ditch weed in a brown paper bag parked on the back seat of a 1964 Chevy Biscayne, and I was back in that cop car entertaining those good gentlemen with my cocaine-enhanced wit before you could say boo. A wise guy with an eye toward the statute of limitations might say that the greatly amused audience demonstrated its brand-new radar gun, accepted a gratuity and let the miscreant go. But I’ve never been smart.
Mad Blog Media 
Patrick,
Sorry the news here is all good:
“People of Illinois happy to see Blagojevich go” (AP wire)
Well other than the 20 degree high, 12inches of snow still on the ground and the lack of meaningful sunlight.
I was working a freshman week dance at my old alma mater (Genny Creme U) as a part-time student security guard when a fellow student offered me and a friend of mine a hit on his ditch weed. The kid suddenly noticed that both me and my pal were wearing uniforms–our youthful happy faces notwithstanding. Mine was not a problem. My friend, however, was a city cop.
Fortunately, reason prevailed. My cop friend smiled and unbuttoned his police shirt to unveil a Grateful Dead T-shirt underneath and quietly advised our new friend that he should probably smoke somewhere else. Aside from our new friend nearly swallowing his joint, all was well with the world.
Too bad that reason is so hard to find these days.
I wouldn’t have believed this if I hadn’t seen it myself…
Missouri’s I44 goes from St Louis to Tulsa, and it runs right by Ft Leonard Wood, the home of the US Army Military Police. It’s also one of the nation’s busiest pipelines for running crystal meth. The cops around there will occasionally put up a sign that says “Drug Sniffing Dogs Ahead, next 5 Miles,” and then go hang out at the next overpass with binoculars. What they’re looking for is folks pitching paper bags out of their window after seeing that sign. The MPs say they’ll get their monthly quota in about two hours after posting the sign.
(and oh, yeah, the bad news gets more eyeballs)
Right you are on that. “If it don’t bleed, it don’t read.”