It looks, fabulously, like this sniper thing may be over. Now, let the prosecutorial wrangling begin. We need a new area slogan, methinks. I advocate a diet/health subconscious play on words. How about: "The Greater D.C. Area - 100% Sniper Free!"
Last night I watched Chief Moose do his news conference, then I turned the news off. For the first time in three weeks. I had been dosing heavily on ~12 hours worth of coverage, local, cable and web, a day. The reviews of the media in this matter have been mixed. My take? They did what they did. I think the coverage was warranted. I think the rampant and idiotic speculation and the in-fighting engaged in by the various "experts" called in to offer opinions was moronic and irresponsible.
My favorite quote from the whole affair is from that windbag Larry King. To an "expert witness" ... expert, on the subject of "What's going on in the killer's head: 'Is he finding development 'X' amusing, do you think?'"
The expert witness expert replied that it would be unethical for her to speculate, as she was not a profiler or psychologist and, by the way, the media were at that very moment taking lots of heat from everyone due to stupid people saying stupid things.
To which Mr. King helpfully implored: "Okay. Good point... So answer as a layman?"
Christ. As a layman. They should just have people call in and postulate crackpot theories. Oh... wait... They do.
So last night I turned the news off. I put on a CD of mostly Tarrega, Carcassi and Guiliani classical guitar studies played by Ben Bolt. Followed by most of Ed Gerhard's Live Album. Followed by bits of Leo Kottke's "My Father's Face". The latest musical offering was preceded by 1) the opening of a bottle of sauvignon blanc, 2) me answering the phone, post call-intercept labyrinth, and talking to my good friend Adam about the above, more or less.
Then I flipped over to Sundance and caught "The Four Seasons," which is, for reasons I don't fully understand, a movie I hold in fond regard and have ever since I first saw it in the '80s, when I was just a lad. I hope when I'm in my forties that I have a couple sets of friends and we enjoy one anothers' company and only bicker at one another now and again - and get over it quickly. And that we don't lose a Mercedes in a frozen pond. The mid-life crises don't really concern me. I've had two already.
The cat purred through the whole thing.
It was a good night, and I don't really have a hangover to speak of. It was an ordinary night, but slightly better.
Here's to ordinary nights.
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