It’s Sunday . . . well, not as I’m writing this, but I’m projecting. Sunday is one of the two days each week when we don’t visit the gym.
Statistically, it’s also the day of the week the blog (this blog; not other blogs) receives the fewest views.
I’m debating whether I should reward my few readers with some of my deep thinking or reward my few readers with a day free of any deep thinking . . . hmm . . . decisions, decisions.
You know what? I think most readers would appreciate a shorter post.
You are welcome.
And now, the photo:
We’ve driven by this bike often. It’s on Waikoloa Road as it nears the High Road. We call it the High Road but it’s actually HI-190, also known as Hawaiʻi Belt Road, also known as Mamalahoa Hwy.
A few days ago I stopped and snapped a photo and read the name. It turns out — as I had guessed — it’s a memorial for someone who died there. A biker from Michigan was struck and killed by a cop who then left the scene. (HERE, HERE, HERE)
Three years later, the trial has yet to go forward. There really are different rules for people in the system than there are for the rest of us. It’s not the case just with cops, but with lawyers, doctors, politicians . . . any organization of professionals charged with our well-being. They seldom pay the price for transgressions any one of us would pay dearly for.
It’s the world we live in and no matter how much we tell each other we wished it were different, if it involves someone we know, few of us are above asking for special pleading.
It should be the opposite . . . people with power and privilege should be held to a higher standard.
A cursory perusal of the news should be enough to convince everyone how much that’s not so . . . but it would be if I were King. Maybe someday.
Oh yeah; Mr. Boffo often has cartoons dealing with the criminal justice system. He also has a way with words, he does.
I was struggling with naming today’s doodle . . . and then it hit me . . . Gesundheit!
And . . . that’s it
Some of these posts will likely be longer as the mood hits me, but most will be thus; short, uninteresting, bland, and relentless.
You can read about Project 313 HERE.
That’s it. This post has ended . . . except for the stuff below.
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. . . my FP ward . . . chieken shit.
Finally, if you interpret anything on this blog as me asking or wanting pity, sympathy, or complaining about my life, or asking for help and advice, know you’re likely missing my subtle mix of irony, sarcasm, and humor.