Jay Allen Sanford 9:45 p.m., May 19
As I sat here this afternoon trying to decide what to blog, I thought about death. No, not mine. Even though I did just turn 40, and that should be a time you start thinking about it, I s'pose.
But the death of the Chargers season.
The deaths of three people in a half-marathon in Detroit. Two things about that surprised me.
First, that it was three deaths in Detroit, that DID NOT involve shooting. I mean, come on! It's Detroit.
Second, it was a half marathon. I can understand someone dying in a full marathon. But a half marathon? And really, you shouldn't be running unless someone is chasing you. There are so many better ways to exercise.
Okay, other deaths.
The Coronado Bridge. Which also turned 40 this year. Did that woman die? I never heard.
And can someone explain to me how a person goes out there at 1:00 a.m. and is still there during rush hour traffic in the morning, screwing up commuters. We need to bring that guy over from China. Remember the guy that pushed the person off the bridge because he was holding up traffic?
Seriously, we need to work on our police dealing with jumper scenarios. It worked so well in Lethal Weapon. Mel Gibson jumps up, handcuffs the guy, and they fall safely together. Can we get Gibson doing these in real life? I mean, he can ask them first if their Jewish. And if they aren't, he can bring them down safely. If they are, he can push them. His call, really.
Sometimes when you jump, you don't die. A baby just fell from a balcony in San Francisco. A 30-foot fall from a third floor apartment window that was open (these parents are about as smart as Falcons). The baby had a cut on his abdomen, bump on his head, and a bruised lung (not sure how they determined that).
The guy that fell from the press booth at the Chargers game also survived about 30 feet, from the press box.
No, he didn't jump after watching such a horrible Charger performance. This was hours before the game.
But staying on a football theme, the death that had me most interested this afternoon was former quarterback Steve McNair. Authorities are now releasing text messages between his mistress (the one who killed him and then shot herself). Technology now makes things so much easier to figure out for the authorities. But also so much more embarassing for the family.
She said "U love me". He responded "I love you, baby."
So romantic...in a Kojak sorta way.
She wrote that she needed to see him, and that she might have a breakdown.
They did agree to meet at his condo (when you're rich and famous, you usually have multiple homes -- I'm guessing for this reason alone).
The guy that found them initially thought they were both sleeping. When he realized they were dead, what did he do? Well, the same thing balloon boys parents did. He DID NOT call 911 first. He called a judge. But unlike that idiotic judge the other day that wouldn't marry an interracial couple, this judge said the right thing. Which was -- "Call 911 now!"
The woman was asking McNair for money, and that a woman was following her. She suspected this was another woman McNair was having an affair with.
McNair said he was at the pool with his family, but finally agreed to meet her.
Ah, the joys of having an affair with a famous married man.