Corsicana Daily Sun, Corsicana, Texas


June 10, 2013

It makes no sense

There are a lot of things I see or hear of every day that make no sense to me. At the top of my list is our criminal justice system. At this point, I could go into a rant about lawyers but I won’t — I’ve got too much class to tell lawyer jokes. Well, maybe just one?

Do you know why many scientists have switched from rats to lawyers in their laboratory experiments? Three reasons: there’s never a shortage of lawyers; you don’t get so attached to them; and, after all, there are some things you can’t get a rat to do.

There is a big broo-ha going on now about the Supreme Court’s decision that it is legal for law enforcement to take DNA samples of people arrested and charged with serious crimes. The human rights zealots are saying such actions constitute illegal searches and seizures. Their point is that while DNA, when run through national data bases of cold cases, may prove the perp committed other heinous crimes, that same DNA evidence can’t be used because there was no probable cause established to obtain it.

Give me a break! How can it be lawful to take a mug shot and fingerprint a suspect but unlawful to stick a Q-tip in his mouth? I don’t see this as a huge “big brother is watching you” issue. However, what I do see is that there will be a tremendous amount of lawyer-speak about what constitutes a “serious crime.”

Do you ever wonder why they put pictures of criminals on the walls of post offices? Are we supposed to write to these people? It would make more sense to put pictures of criminals on the postage stamps. That way, the mailmen could be on the lookout for them while they deliver the mail. By the way, if the world is truly getting smaller, how come the postage keeps going up?

That silly statement reminds me of the kindergarten class on a field trip to the local police station. The kindly old desk sergeant was showing the kids around the station and, when he got to the “Ten Most Wanted” poster, he explained it to the kids. “These pictures are up here because regular citizens often help us make arrests.”

One 6-year-old asked, “Sergeant, are these really pictures of the bad guys?” The sergeant informed him that they were, indeed, the bad guys. “Well then,” pursued the little boy, “why didn’t you hold on to them after you took their pictures?”

Here’s some other stuff that makes no sense to me. If ignorance is bliss like a lot of people say, how come there aren’t more happy people? If boxers wear jockey shorts and jockeys wear boxer shorts, why do short people wear long johns? Why do they call the federal department in charge of everything outdoors the Department of the Interior? Why is it that the only people who know anything about running the government are tending bar, cutting hair, driving a cab, or working the checkout counter at Wal-Mart?

Like they say in those damned commercials, “But wait, there’s more.” Why is “easy listening music” so hard to listen to? Why do so many retirees like me move here to the Sunshine State and then do everything they can to stay out of the sun? Did you ever wonder why the sun lightens your hair but darkens your skin?

Isn’t it strange that drugstores make sick people walk all the way to the back of the store to get their medicines while healthy people can buy cigarettes at the front?

Why can’t we old fogies be left alone with our land-line phones, cursive penmanship, simple e-mail communications, and real in-the-mail Christmas cards? We grew up with the philosophy that, “If it works, don’t fix it.” In today’s information/technology age, the motto seems to be, “If it works, it’s probably obsolete.” By the next century, the philosophy will probably be, “It’s the early mechanical bird which gets the first plastic worm out of the artificial grass.”

I am now at the stage of my life where the preponderance of my address book is names that start with “Doctor.” I recently got a goofy e-mail from a good friend which was entitled “The Seven Dwarves Of Old Age.” There was a caricature of each of the dwarfs included but I will not try to describe them — I’ll leave that to your imagination.

They are: Nappy, Wrinkly, Squinty, Rocky, Saggy, Farty, and Leaky. Without any specifics, let me just say that I can identify with every one of the little fellas.

See ya...


Dick Platt is a Daily Sun columnist. His column appears on Tuesdays. Want to “Soundoff” on this column? Email:

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