I thought a serial killer was being apprehended in my usually quiet neighborhood late on Saturday morning. There were helicopters swooping up and down the block, and about a dozen police cars on the street.
It seems that a man was trying to break into a house that is for sale, but that happens to still be owned by a member of the local police force. The neighbors spotted him as he tried to wriggle his way into a basement window.
Dan went out to see what was happening. His chat with the neighbors went something like this:
Dan: So what happened?
Neighbor #1: Someone was trying to break into that house, which is owned by a police officer.
Dan: In the middle of the day?
Neighbor #2: That’s when break-ins happen. They do it during the day, when no one is home.
Neighbor #1: Uh, people are usually home on Saturday.
The men laughed. Then a police officer drove his cruiser the wrong way down our one way street, and several of his colleagues laughed and jeered.
What a jovial crime scene!
When I was just a baby bird of a reporter, I used to dig through high stacks of downtown police reports for a local rag in order to write a column about dumb and bizarre crimes on these fair streets of Columbus.
Ah, Naked City, you’ve returned to me.
Hope your leap day was happy.
And speaking of leaps, here is a story about a miniature museum that was smuggled to the lunar surface.
What would you leave of yourself on the moon if you could?
This little piece of social satire has me mesmerized:
Hillary is mom jeans
I think that it may be one of the most insightful things about our cultural view of Hillary out there. (Particularly the nature of biases against her.)
And here’s the not quite as mesmerizing, but still sort of on-point Obama site:
Barack Obama is Your New Bicycle.
It’s surprisingly difficult to find space-themed toys for toddlers. (Last night, Declan slept with a plastic Pluto in his hand.)
So when I poked around in the toy section of a second-hand store last week, I was thrilled to find two sealed bags of space stuff, replete with astronauts, an alien, a satellite dish and a rover, all for about $3. It struck me as a little odd, however, that the construction worker from the Village People was also included.
Life soundtrack: The Village People, The Casablanca Records Story, “Macho Man”
Last night I dreamed that I was out at a club with the judges from American Idol, watching a band from Argentina. Everyone was raving about their performance, but particularly the title of their song: “I Am the Pope of Your Embarrassment.”
Then Declan woke me up. I tried to fall back asleep to find out what happened next, but it didn’t work out.
I think this song needs to be written.
Life soundtrack: Dinah Washington, The Complete Dinah Washington On Mercury, Vol.7, “Dream”