A LITTLE MORE ACCOUNTABILITY, A LITTLE LESS ENABLING
By Max R. Weller
It happened last Friday night about 8:30PM. I was awakened at my nearby campsite by the ambulance’s siren, and I noted that it stopped on Laramie Blvd. just off of N. Broadway. This is where the usual bunch of inebriates who cause problems in our neighborhood had spent the day boozing it up and walking over to take turns panhandling on the corner of U.S. 36. They’ve established a new Drunkards’ Wallow underneath the pine trees on this nicely-landscaped private property, which Dakota Ridge residents are paying for as members of the HOA. This is only about 50′ from their previous party spot, where Boulder County Sheriff’s Office deputies told ’em to move along, and the Dakota Ridge property is inside Boulder city limits. I’ve seen Boulder PD paying particular attention to this area, looking for the pickled idjits; sure enough, on Friday night a city police officer on patrol spotted one of the Native American women passed out, obviously in need of medical assistance.
Ask yourself how much this intervention by paramedics and trip to the ER will cost taxpayers. It’s certain that’s who will be footing the bill . . .
Saturday, four of the regulars — minus the one who had been taken away Friday night — were once again partying at Laramie & N. Broadway. They were all so intoxicated by noon that none of ’em could even stand upright and walk out to the corner to “fly a sign” — but in their honor, I flew my new sign, which was well-received by passersby:
HELP SAVE LIVES
I went to back to my campsite, after reading a book on the wall in front of the Mexican restaurant, around 5:30PM on Saturday evening, and the bums still hadn’t moved at that point. They were gone when I returned on Sunday morning. However, yesterday afternoon one of the white male alcoholic child molesters did show up, looking for his eyeglasses and displaying the worst case of the “shakes” I’ve ever seen in anybody. I didn’t feel a bit sorry for him, and I was happy when he gave up his search and went on down the sidewalk southbound, probably to pass out underneath the Broadway & Rosewood bridge over Four Mile Creek (another popular bum hangout, conveniently located a stone’s throw from the liquor store).
BTW, I did NOT pick up the empty jug of rotgut vodka they left on the sidewalk in front of one of the businesses in the 4900 block, because I want others to see it and get as pissed off as I am:
I’m very happy that a federal judge sided with Tom Brady and the NFLPA. BTW, ever since game officials started paying stricter attention to inflation of footballs — beginning with the 2nd half of the Patriots vs. Colts AFC Championship — Brady and the Pats’ offense have been all but unstoppable on the field. So much for the chimera of underinflated footballs providing any competitive advantage! It’s not like the contestants in the Miss America pageant having cosmetic surgery, including breast augmentation, to enhance their chances of winning. Hmmm, Betty Cantrell?
That’s all for now . . .