He's a Runner

I was laying in bed yesterday afternoon with the most godawful disease that my friend Dean brought back from Paris, France. The French flu. Damn French, I think I'll call it Freedom Flu. Anyway, as I lay there all drugged up on Nyquil, Robitussin, and Excedrin, I am a prisoner of Mark's television viewing habits. The Chew, followed by The Talk,  followed by Doctor Phil. If I could have moved I would have. But the drugs, mostly the Nyquil have left me immobilized. So there I lay with the two dogs piled up near me, while Doctor Phil drones on about somebody else's problems. Suddenly Doctor Phil is gone and huge graphics fill the screen, "BREAKING NEWS!" and one of the second tier news readers breathlessly informs us of a police chase. Now, instead of the puffy know it all face of Doctor Phil, we have a overhead shot of some little white car racing the wrong way down Dixie Highway.

"Hey, that's near here Mark. I'll bet if I go outside I could see the helicopters."

But of course I don't go outside, I might miss the police chase. Okay, I admit it. I love afternoon police chases on television. I am one of those people. I'm the guy who will let the phone ring, who won't answer the door, who can't move from in front of the television until the chase comes to a conclusion. Yes, I want to see the speeding asshole run into a light pole, or rear end a semi-truck. No, I do not want to see innocent people hurt, but I do want the driver to either crash or bail and run until the police dogs catch him. Crashing the car would be better. I know that it is sick, but that's what I like. Unfortunately, this particular police chase involved absolutely no crashes, and no bailing out and running. In fact I mentioned to Mark that for a bad guy running from the police, that driver was very good. Anyway, it all ended when he pulled into a parking lot in Pompano Beach, stuck his arms out the window and the cops put handcuffs on him. Such a letdown, and worst of all it was all over just in time for Mark to watch Judge Judy.