Bridge to nowhere

A would-be jumper snarled traffic for a dozen hours yesterday, and a few Burqueños were irked at not being able to motor along I-40 at 25 mph above the limit as per usual.

Now and then I wonder whether we ever should have come down out of the trees.

Of course, if we were still up there, a certain subset of the species would probably still be inclined to shout, “Jump! Jump! Jump!” at anyone who was having a rough day.

That’s what was going on at Interstate 40 and Louisiana yesterday, according to the Duke City cops.

A would-be jumper had law enforcement and traffic tied up for the better part of quite some time on Super Bowl Sunday, and apparently not enough of the spectators had been to church yet because their prayers seemed wildly off base.

APD spokesman Simon Drobik told the Albuquerque Journal that efforts to talk the man off the overpass were hindered by drivers shouting “Jump!” and “Kill yourself!” as they motored happily along.

“Any ground that we can take, it just gets taken back immediately when somebody does that,” Drobik said. “It’s very disheartening.”

Well, at least they weren’t shooting at him. Keep hope alive.

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9 Responses to “Bridge to nowhere”

  1. Pat O'Brien Says:

    Narcissistic sociopaths maybe?

  2. khal spencer Says:

    Wow. That’s sick.

  3. L scott Says:

    In response to line one of your post. when I was employed coming into work in the morning coworkers would do the standard salute of Good Morning and my response would usually be You know we should never have come down out of the trees. A look of disbelief would come over their faces.

    Last line, well if you want hope you will have hopelessness because we live in a universe of dualities or opposite’s. So I reserve my use of this thought (even with Mr. orange).

    This seems to be the condition of the society we share today.
    Thanks for your blog.

  4. Pat O'Brien Says:

    Wow, are we a trip to the dark side? Most people in this country are good. At least that is what long distance bike tourers keep telling us in articles in Adventure Cycling Magazine and other media. The problem is that assholes yelling “jump” or “kill yourself” get all the fucking press in the 24 hour news cycle. Click bait is what. Click bait sells shit. I will go out on one dark side track though. Most people are too lazy to find and read real journalism. You know what the professor says.

    • khal spencer Says:

      You nailed it.

    • Patrick O'Grady Says:

      I saw the cops and the jumper having their tête-à-tête as I drove to the airport to fetch Herself home. Also the lonnnnnnnnng line of 18-wheelers backed up halfway to Grants as they inched off I-40 at Carlisle.

      I knew this thing was going on ’cause I checked the Journal website before hitting the road. A lot of folks didn’t. Shit, you could see the flashers up ahead from Eubank and these yahoos were still pedal to the metal, switching lanes without signaling at 90 mph. There is a whole lot of fuck-you going on in the Duke City.

      We took the scenic route back. These dickheads mostly keep it down to 65 per on the side streets.

      When the cops finally talked the poor fella down it was off to the screw factory for rethreading. Dude apparently was off his meds and all his invisible pals dropped by for the Big Game.

      “What, no nachos? Jump, bitch!”

  5. Libby Says:

    The drivers are sick. It’s disgusting – ignorant, insular, vile.

  6. khal spencer Says:

    My first job was as a janitor during the summer between high school and college, at the Airways Hotel at Buffalo Airport. I saw how the working class lived and that’s why I never undertip. My second real job was as a security aide in the Univ. of Rochester Security Division. That’s how I worked my way through college (along with some loans and scholarships) once I flipped the bird to my full freight NROTC scholarship. Don’t ever talk your kid into a private university if there is an alternative…unless you are shitting hundred dollar bills.

    For one year my patrol areas included R-Wing and the ER of Strong Memorial Hospital. R wing was where those with a few cards short of a full deck lived and in the ER, we sometimes had to use less than standard methods to get people settled into the psych ward, to say this politely. It was the seventies, before the ACLU and others saw behind the curtain. I recall one night when several of us got used as frisbees by one patient who was really nuts and strong as an ox. I finally threw up as the stench got awful but we managed to get the patient into restraints so the medical types could do their jobs. I needed a syringe too that night. Funny thing was I got home at about 8 a.m. that morning and was sitting in my underwear with a beer and sure enough, the Jehovah’s Witnesses showed up at the door. Weird. Some stuff I remember. Wish I could remember what I had for dinner two nights ago.

    So for those who shouted “jump” from the safety of their cars, I can’t say anything awful enough. Fuck yourselves is way too nice.Having worked inside the Cuckoo’s nest, I can’t bring myself to be that cold hearted. I hope that guy gets help.

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