There are days I struggle to fill this space which you,
who struggle so often to read that struggle, know all too well. Thanks for your
patience and forbearance. Today is not a struggle unless I mean to suppress a
snicker or perhaps a chortle even though this is a real story, literally torn
from the pages of an actual newspaper (metaphorically speaking), with a less
than happy ending.
But don’t take my word for any of that (why would you
start doing that now?). Read it for yourself.
Perhaps like me you, too, have lots of questions with a critical
paucity of answers. For starters, how can you want something, anything,
in this case an automobile so badly you are willing to attempt to steal it with
the owner hanging on to the roof? Conversely how can you decide in a split
second that the risk to your life and limb is worth the attempt to keep your
car from being stolen?
Why do we get to read the name of the convicted thief but
not that of his victim of the car theft or of the woman from whom Mr. Vidal,
Jr. stole a kiss? Did anyone actually confirm that a law enforcement specialist
created a report with “stole a kiss” in the narrative (that person is a poet
and is destined for far greater things than supporting public safety in
Bridgeport, Connecticut).
You don’t think this has the makings of a TV show? I'm thinking prime time all the time, perhaps on one of those cable stations that operates at
frequency just above the police calls. Which would only be appropriate, if
only in an alternate universe.
-bill kenny
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