Death of Common Sense

A friend posted this on FaceBook, and I don’t care how many times that this has gone around in emails, posts, Likes, whatever. It just bears repeating.

Today, we grieve for our beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:

• Life isn't always fair;
• Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
• Why the early bird gets the worm;
• Waste Not, Want Not;
• And maybe it was my fault in my situation.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults and citizens, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. (The Not-My-Child syndrome.)

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; a Fort Hood Terrorist and illegal criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live. Common Sense was preceded in death:

• by his parents, Truth and Trust;
• by his wife, Discretion;
• by his daughter, Responsibility;
• by his son, Reason.
• by his grandmother, Sound Judgment;
• and by his grandfather, Future Planning.

He is survived by his 6 stepbrothers:

• I Know My Rights;
• I Want It Now;
• Someone Else Is To Blame;
• I'm Offended;
• I'm A Victim;
• You owe me.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

R.I.P.

Wow! Our Cops Can Move!

It was a quarter to midnite: It is never good to wake up to the sound of someone screaming for help. I threw open the front door, cell phone in hand, looking around and listening for any more shouts.

Someone was screaming: “Help me! Please call the Bradley Beach police!”

It was a moon-less night and the fog had rolled in. It was hard to see even three doors down, but I did see two men on the lawn and one on a porch. I heard multiple footsteps pounding the decks overhead, other neighbors were woken by the drama unfolding down the block.

When I called the police, none of us were sure just WHERE the cries were coming from, but those guys were a good guess.

TWO unmarked cars flew down the block.

Now there was another man in the mix, fighting with another one on the lawn.

The cops were hollering: “Stand down. Stand down NOW!”

Whoa, they jammed brakes, threw the cars in park and while the cars were still rocking, both cops bolted out running.

It was like watching Michael Strahan sack the Quarterback: The guys never saw it coming!

One cop tackled both men around their waists, spun them around, bounced onto the back end of a car and down to the gutter.

‘Twas good to know, if needed, our cops got some serious skills.

A Cop Pulled Me Over?!

It was 10:30 pm on a Monday night

Guess it was a slow night, summer tourist season has not started and the bar crowd is fairly thin on a Monday evening.

I had passed the officer sitting on the Manasquan Circle, and I wasn’t concerned, twasn’t speeding and had properly used all signals. Although I was contemplating about how much my life has changed, and reminiscing about my wild and woolly days driving home very late around this very circle from a night out, and laughing that now I am driving home from a Bible Ed class.

Can I get an Amen from all the reformed, older and wiser, people out there?

The next traffic light had just flashed yellow, and I thought about gunning it, but braked instead. Glad I did, that same officer was now glued to my bumper. Why?

When the light changed, the car next to me gunned it and flew off down the road. So when those famous flashing lights went on, I ASSUMED that it was for THAT car: NOT me!

Since I was driving home from a Bible Ed class, did I not earn a special Brownie Point? My halo was all polished up!

I pulled over, sorted out my documents, and assumed that my brake light was out. Both my Hyundais burn thru headlights and tail lights, and those tickets are just unfair, and pricey.

As I handed the officer my documents, I said, “I can’t imagine why you pulled me over.”

Of course, he merely replied something about telling me after he ran my license.

Drum Roll Please . . . And the reason I was pulled over. . .

The reflective coating on my license plate was cracked and peeling, making it hard for him to read. Maybe I should get new plates.

Why? This car is a few years old and has 138,000 miles. My prior Hyundai was 13 years old and had 222,000 miles: on 3 cylinders! The plates are from the year 2000, yep, they are old, but I am NOT buying new ones until I buy the next car: but I expect another 100,000 miles from this car: It could be a while.