I had so many thoughts Tuesday after devouring as much as I could about the miraculous escape and triumphant return to the rest of the world made by three kidnapped Cleveland women more than a decade ago.
My first thought was outrage; that three women could be chained up and tortured, raped and enduring God knows what else by three brothers for such a long time is just beyond despicable.
I was also confused, not wanting to believe that nobody saw Amanda Berry, Gina DeJesus, and Michelle Knight for all those years, and that no one could’ve helped.
So many fascinating tenets of this story, and so many questions to answer: How were they held for so long? What was the motive of the sick bastards who did it? How did the women find the strength, and the courage, to survive for as long as they did? And can you imagine be a loved one of the three women, believing for so long that they were dead, only to see them again? Psychologically, what is that like?
And on a lighter note, can we get Charles Ramsey, the neighbor who heard Berry’s shouts, a reality show? This guy’s TV interview was fantastic; if you haven’t seen it, watch it above.
So many questions, so few answers right now. What I kept coming back to on Tuesday was this: Think about how much of their lives these women have missed, and how much of the world has passed them by while they were captured.
Birthdays, anniversaries, family gatherings, all the regular stuff of life we take for granted all the time. Every day, for nearly a decade, they faced unimaginable horrors, and missed out on any good things at all in the world.
That they could survive with so little hope is just a miracle to me.
**I know what you’ve been thinking lately: It’s just too hard to find beer delivery in your neighborhood. And we’ve got all that unused sky up above, simply being used to fly people back and forth.
What if we had manned drones deliver beer to people?
Believe it or not, that was a real conversation somewhere in the world in the past few months, because at the OppiKoppi Music Festival in South Africa this August, there will be an actual drone dropping beer to thirsty (and let’s face it, probably already drunk) music lovers.
Here’s how it works: Cans of beer are loaded into the drone prior to taking off and each can is attached to a clear, plastic parachute. After the drone reaches the approximate location of the person that requested the beer (by using their Smartphone app, of course) in addition to the appropriate altitude to safely drop the brew, the drone releases the can.
Assuming the parachute opens correctly, the can safely glides to the ground into the hands of the thirsty festival attendee. (Watch the demo video above)
I can’t decide if this the best or the worst thing ever. I mean, how lazy do you have to be to order your beer through aircraft.
As humorist Tom Bodette said on the episode of “Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me” when they talked about this, “So civilian use of military technology, this is the first thing they come up with?”
**Finally today, I can never get enough of these kinds of stories. A Wilmington, N.C. man (my old stomping grounds) called the police last week for a very good reason: An individual had failed to deliver the marijuana and cocaine he had bought and paid for.
According to this story, “in the 911 call, the caller, identified as Dave, claimed that he had met with his drug dealer and given him $80 in exchange for the drugs. The man who took the money then reportedly told Dave he would go get the drugs, and would meet him at the Scotchman gas station at Wilshire Boulevard and Kerr Avenue (my note: I know exactly where that is, it’s not a great neighborhood, shockingly), but he never showed up there.”
You know, we have so many problems in this country of ours, but if we can’t get drug dealers to honor their agreements with customers, we really have no hope of holding off China and India for world supremacy.
I urge you to listen to the 911 call here and get a nice big laugh.