Just as Junior Murrow exclaimed from the reggae vaults within Jamaica, later to be imported to the isle of Britain and be popularized by the world famous Clash, I encountered an instance of police interaction on my most current extended jaunt.
Before you the reader, thinks my arms are placed behind me while standing against a squad car.... well, think in opposites. My failing eyes witnessed seven police cars with their flashing lights greeting a lonely car. Multiple police officers with their fingers attached to their guns pointed in the direction of the car.
The previous few words stringed together are just a description of what I witnessed during my previous endurance journey adding up to 14 miles on my electronic pedometer. Truthfully speaking, I can not stretch the truth and invent a story in light of the USS Maine explosion in relation to yellow journalism and the start of the Spanish-American War. Simply said, I do not know.
A couple days later while navigating through the world wide web's music video connection, Youtube, I encountered the embed located below this rant. This ditty seems to be the best reminder of the latest journey that my legs carried me to.