I often have no clue about what to post here. And rather than post the same old blogging rant, American Idol suck up, or add to the mountains of political blog crap, I choose to post nothing. I always figure it is better to say nothing than waste my time and yours with words that are there just because I can.
My loyal fanbase of about 10 people do not seem to mind these lengthy breaks. And I would certainly not want to overwhelm them with too much of a good thing. But a blog that is not kept up is a sad blog. So I have decided to pick up the pace and post more than once a week or so. Today is the start of the streak.
The High Speed Chase
It appears a homeowner in Arkansas tried to do a little too much multi-tasking over the weekend. Everyone knows that weekends are Miller Time. And every one of us who owns a house with a yard attached knows weekends are also Mowing time.
Michael Ginevan of Bunker Hill Arkansas apparently decided to cram as much fun and work into the weekend as possible. Going on the assumption that all work and all play could never be dull, Mike strapped a case of beer to the hood of his lawn tractor and we presume meant to mow his lawn. Makes sense if one has limited time to indulge and also be expected to keep that Better Homes and Gardens look.
Anyway, at some point that day, Mike lost track of what he was doing I guess. He was spotted by local police scooting down the road in an erratic and dangerous manner. And when the police officer attempted to pull him over, Mike grinned and punched it. He was not going to be taken alive.
Reaching speeds of up to 10 MPH, the cop had to finally abandon his patrol car and continue the chase on foot. As the officer closed in, he bravely threw his body into harms way and knocked Mike off the tractor.
Mike continued his beligerent and drunken toot by refusing to take a field sobriety test. Now Mike sits in the county lock up on $7500 bail and is charged with DUI, unlawful fleeing, and obstructing an officer. Seems Mike had himself one Helluva weekend.
The only reason I brought this story up is that it reminded me of my college days. One of those current events that brings back memories of foolishness from our past.
As a college student whose family lived 600 miles away, it was not always convenient to go home for every silly vacation the educators managed to snake into every semester. So I would head home with a college buddy for the 4 or 5 days we had off.
One such vacation, I went with Tommy to his home in the heart of Maryland tobacco country. To earn some extra cash, we worked on a local tobacco farm owned by some of Tom's relatives for a few days. It was hard work. Hanging bundles of tobacco plants in wooden barns 30 feet off the ground.
The farm was a family owned operation as most farms in the 70s were. The patriarch who was about 70 years old worked as hard as anyone. I remember asking Tom if the guy ever took a break. Tom said his great uncle's idea of leisure was to throw two cases of warm Black Label beer into the Massey Ferguson tractor and head out to disk the fields for the day. He would head out at dawn and not come home until the Sun set. And not one can of Black Label came back full.