First of all, if you're watching national news right now, you will see a prison riot happening right down the highway from us in New Castle, IN. It appears that a bunch of inmates got bored and set a mattress on fire. Whatever else ensued, every police officer in Henry County and some state police are there to put out a mattress fire. Sheperd Smith is trying his darndest to keep the momentum of exciting, breathless reporting going, but there's only so much you can say about a helicopter view of a burning mattress: "There appears to be a burning mattress ...." "A mattress has apparently been set on fire; we don't know why ...." "There you see a fire apparently started by inmates on what appears to be a mattress ...." "Officials say this is definitely a mattress. On fire...."
This leads me to recall a recent incident where I was sitting at a four-way stop right by our tiny municipal airport on my way home from work, where an officer was directing traffic. This was an odd sight, like someone directing traffic through Mayberry. Then I looked to my right and saw the biggest convoy of busses and lights, etc., that I've ever seen in my life. I thought President Bush had come to finally visit Garfield or something. (Garfield the Cat "lives" here.)
As the vans and busses rounded my car, I noticed that all the passengers were men, and they were all extremely focused on seeing who was in my car, if you know what I mean. Blech.
Turns out, New Castle didn't have enough bad guys to fill even half their prison, so what did Indiana do? We imported Arizona prisoners. These were the guys in the huge convoy. They don't tell citizens that hundreds of inmates are passing through their town in order to avoid any commotion.
So now New Castle is probably scratching its head saying, "Gee. Maybe we shoulda had a formal mixer so's these guys could get to know each other better before ploppin' 'em in the crowd here."
In other riveting news, today was Secretaries' Day, and our church staff took us ministry assistants to lunch at Chiles. I don't know what was wrong with me today, but I totally embarrassed myself throughout the meal. I was so klutzy I reminded myself of Steve Martin in that movie All of Me, where part of his body is possessed by Lily Tomlin and he can't control himself. The very first bite of buffalo wings I took shot off my plate, hit me on the right, um, chest, and ricocheted off onto my friend next to me. She was very nice and offered me her Tide stick. (Why oh why didn't we have these when my kids were little? You people with $500 strollers and Tide sticks are so spoiled!)
A few minutes later, I dripped salsa onto the front of me. A few minutes later, after the meal, THANK GOD, I was talking and spewed some spittle. This gal next to me will probably make sure to position herself far away from you-know-who at the next big meal. She was so nice though, saying, "Look, I've got four kids. The fact that you're not laying your head on my lap right now makes this meal a success for me." Yeah, I have cool co-workers!
So now I'm off to watch my son's track meet in a town past New Castle. After that, I plan to kick back and watch AI, but you all know, it's just not gonna be the same.