…and it’s almost Halloween
In a city with its own many ghosts and famous cemeteries and legends and stories and other eerie goings-on, here is a story that certainly rockets to the very top five on the list. Just like so much that’s happened around here in recent months, it’s a case in which Real Life is so much more than what anyone like Poppy Z. Brite or any other local author could come up with.
Not to make llight of it (and really, I’m not), but didn’t we all kinda see something like this coming? I mean hell — with all the severe emotional, physical and mental trauma that’s been zapping around the city like an unhooked (and overpriced) Entergy line, something like this was bound to be manifested. TBK and I didn’t know this couple, but we certainly know several like them — outwardly normal and likeable, but internally devoured by conflict and argument and God knows what else. I’m not saying this is within all of us — but I think we all know someone like this and see them on a nearly daily basis. What pushes one over the cliff while another remains on Normalcy Highway? It’s only a thin fence for some folks. But, as of today, look for Buffa’s to be on the oooh-and-ahh list of places where the weird and scary have been known to hang out. And, really, it’s a neat place.
Speaking of good bars, we understand Shiloh is in the midst of a transition. We wish Debbie and her new crew all the best, though she’ll be missed at Parasol’s. But since Shiloh is only a couple doors down from where I work, we’ll be seeing her plenty anyway.
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Jumping Jesus on a pogostick!
Ya know, I’m not one to say I haven’t been tempted to derail my own train a time or two, But damn! And I’ve been thinking for a couple days now how so many murders happen all the time around here and they don’t strike me the same way thid did. There’s not much difference, really. Ultimately a couple of people are dead and many other lives have been disrupted. It doesn’t make sense I guess. And why is it that white guys around my age seem to do the most unspeakable things to people? I find myself looking forward to aging out of the “serial killer demographic”. I kept looking at that picture on the front page of the TP all day and wondering, ‘did the tether come loose all at once or slowly over a period of time’? Should someone have seen it coming? Have suspected something? I’ve had serious doubts about people in the past, like, specific people and didn’t say anything to them. Ultimately, that little shim that keeps them from going too far holds and nothing happens, but I always wonder if that’s a good thing to rely on.
It’s a sad, sad, tragic thing on all accounts. It’s easy to imagine that doppler of grief expanding out in all directions from those two lives.
Damn.