Crime Doesn't Pay? Doesn't Pay Who?

I was talking to Rich about the bikes I looked at over the weekend. The one I liked the most, was steel. "Steel now," he said. "Later, stolen."
On Monday, I was cruising Craigslist and there was my "Awsome Bike" [sic] (very sic) for sale. I called the police officer handling my case. He called the number in the ad and talked to them, and then called me back. He said that he could go by there, but they might not let him in. If I wanted my bike back, the best thing to do would be for me to set up a meeting and invite the police to join us.
So, that's what I did. First, they said to meet them at their house, but must have realized that it was really more of a lair, so they moved it to a parking lot. Ambre and I drove over there and talked to the police, and then they hid, and we waited. When the criminals rolled up, I got out and examined the bike, spinning the pedals, checking the brakes. While I did that, the police sprung their trap. One of the men was arrested on an outstanding warrant. I don't know what the charges were, but it may be relevant that a syringe fell out of his pocket, as they will. The other two men, and the little girl with them were allowed to leave. The men claimed that they had taken the bike as payment for yard work they had done. They couldn't remember for who, or where, but I suppose one yard looks much the same as another after awhile. The policeman said that I was their client, so I if I wanted them arrested, he'd do it, but he was pretty sure the prosecutor would decline the case given the (barely) plausible explanation. I said what I'd really like was my other bike back, so he put it to them that if they returned the other bike within 24 hours, there'd be no questions asked. Which three days later sort of begs the question (ha ha, no it doesn't, it invites the question) where's my other bike?
Oh, and another question might be, why, if crime doesn't pay, did I arrive to get my bike back in my only car, a thirteen year old Dodge, and they came in a new Cadillac Escalade?

Autres Temps, Autres Mœurs? Nope, Same Old Mœurs.

1886: “I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”

2008: Bush proud to sign bill that passed unanimously giving substantial new protections to unaccompanied minors arriving at the border.

2014: “Send them home with birth control” (actual sign carried by woman protesting the arrival of children at the border.

I just know that there are still people who resent FDR allowing Jews who had escaped from Nazi Germany to be refused entry to Miami in 1939 and returned to Europe where many of them eventually died in the camps.  Where is their horror at the prospect of returning children en masse to the murder capitol of the world without the hearings provided for by a unanimous(!) Congress just six years ago?

Martin Luther King said, with no math to back it up,  “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends towards justice.” A more accurate statement  might be, the line of the moral universe is long, and it tends to revert to the mean, the very mean.

Entered As Second Class Matter

S J Perelman wrote a short piece called Second Class Matter. I never thought it was all that great, so the title, at least was kind of funny. 

Here's a little update of my own, and since it's not very good, but, second class matter is a postal term, and I work at the post office the title is doubly funny. Get it?

I've been working some overtime this summer on other routes. Yesterday, I delivered mail in a trailer court. Trailer court spaces aren't always numbered rationally, but I never thought I'd be looking for pi. 

I told my erstwhile friend that, and he reminded me m-m-m pie. 

I went and test rode some bikes today. I told the salespeople that I wanted a good commuter bike that could accommodate snow tires, be a fleet of tire road bike and sturdy enough for my imaginary ride across America. And affordable. 

Then I came home and sulked.  Nobody likes to be laughed at. 

Uncomfortable Unfortunate Things I Might Have Said Recently

I just told somebody, at the PO "Oh, I'm walking out to the garage as if my bike wasn't stolen."  I told him the story, how there were a lot of people we used to call bums that walk down our alley and how now we call them homeless, but maybe they're homeless because they're bums,and how they used the garage door opener in the dead car in the driveway to gain access to the garage and my bikes. He said, "That's funny." I said, "Really? I must have told it wrong."

I have a black man on my route that lives with his identical twin. I told him, "I know this might sound racist, but I can't tell you guys apart."

The Universe Says, "Follow Your Dreams, Because They Left Without You."

I listened to WBUR's On Point today. The host interviewed a man that rode across the country on his bicycle at age fifty seven. While I daydreamed about that tonight at dinner, someone went into my locked garage and stole my bikes. 

They left two snowblowers and a lawn mower. So, chore machines. 

I was daydreaming about bicycling across the country and now I can't even bicycle across the street. 

That's Why They Call It Dopamine

I listened to a Scientific American podcast today. They interviewed the author of Ha,  a book about the science of humor. The author doesn't claim to be funny himself, just, as he said, you wouldn't expect a scientist studying schizophrenia to be delusional. And then he turned out to be delusional since he claimed Rowan Atkinson was funny. Apparently, the so-called science of humor is just a joke. 

It Was Like Being In A BATHysphere Because: Isolated Showers

We're back from Iowa, safe and sound. And you were so scared.
On the plane last night, I made some notes on my phone for this post. The phone was in Airplane Mode, which apparently means that it automatically deletes notes made on Airplanes. So, I'm just making this up as I go along, instead of making it up somewhere else.
The wedding came off without a hitch. That is, the hitching went off without a problem. There was lightning, thunder and a torrential downpour, but we were snug inside eating (I guess my bias for action at buffets is showing) visiting and watching the happy young couple say their vows.
On our last night in Iowa, there was a severe thunderstorm, and a tornado on the ground while we were out to eat. I asked if we should be worried, but the Iowans were all, "Pfff, that's like two, maybe three counties away." During the storm, the lights went out in the restaurant, which was a good time to sample everybody else's meals. Delicious.

On the airplane, I thought about a comedian we heard saying that flying was a war against gravity, and that Einstein visualized gravity as a rubber sheet, and how a rubber sheet would be perfect for wrapping up the baby that wouldn't stop crying in the row behind us.

I worked for awhile on this post yesterday, the first, and now, this morning, the second. I know I was busy all day yesterday with post-trip chores, so I was surprised when I got up that it looks like a family of goats had spread luggage and dirty dishes around our house. I'm surprised I didn't notice that happening while I was typing yesterday. Now, I'm off to work. I needed a little something extra to get me going this morning, and luckily I found a pair of forties (waistband).

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