Last night at the Jewel/Osco in my neighborhood, a man stole an old woman’s purse out of her shopping cart as she waited in the checkout line. She started yelling, we customers looked at each other for a minute and, as soon as it became apparent no one else was going to do anything about it, I took off after him. A security guard and I chased the guy for a few blocks but, having a much better knowledge of how the alleys and gangways around here are laid out, he slipped away before the cops showed up.
Back at the store, we learned that as he was trying to fish the good stuff out of it, he dropped the purse near the exit – with the wallet still inside. The woman had lost nothing. “That never happens,” one of the lot guards told me. “It’s a miracle.”
Miracle might be a bit extreme, but perhaps things do work out sometimes. Or perhaps the world isn’t such a bad place after all when I am free to chase cowards through the streets and go home to write about music.
Oh, and the Sox are going to get Alex Rodriguez, but not for any of the right reasons. So sayeth I.