Perhaps He’s Dead, I’ll Just Make Sure

Yesterday there was……well….


Actually it was a few days ago.  I’m writing this one a day or two ahead of schedule for the sole reason that I managed to jump ahead in the blog publishings  last night when I composed and scheduled two posts in one sitting.


Now of course, I could go into another soliloquy on whether it was yesterday or tomorrow, and generally jack with your sense of time.  Since I’ve already done that once before, I’ll pass this time.


There was a story that spread through the San Antonio media like wildfire the other day involving a spider.  One of the drawbacks to listening to news talk radio throughout the day is the fact that they rehash the same… damn… story… every… 30…. minutes.  At a point when you get home and turn on the boob tube (not be confused with the #boob tube), the local TV stations promote their car accident and house fire infused newscasts with teasers about the day’s events in desperate hopes of you watching their meager offerings as opposed to whatever you can find on Adult Swim over on the Cartoon Network that night.  Nine times out of ten,  that teaser will include a story that you’ve heard throughout the day on the radio.


Thus, the spider.


On background, I’ll tell you this.


The brain trust of this fair city has decided to do some construction on a major artery on the northwest side of town.  Just in the last ten years alone, that particular part of town has exploded.  As I understand it, they were making one of the onramps more “onrampish”.  Clutch the pearls ladies and gentlemen, because the construction crews had to halt their activity the other day.


By activity, I mean actual work.  A crew of able bodied individuals, earning a decent and honest wage so that they could feed and support their families and put some cash into the local economy was out there in the hot Texas sun improving our infrastructure so as to help reduce the pollution caused by vehicles stuck in a slow idle while trying to change from one freeway to another.




The good kind.


While in the process of committing acts of good activity, a spider was discovered.  I’m not talking about Peter Parker wrapped up in a good pair of red and blue spandex.




Instead, I’m talking about some spider which has been listed as extinct.  It’s about the size of a dime as I understand it.  Now, construction is halted while the powers that be figure out what to do about the new hindrance to progress.  I don’t know all of the details, but I’m pretty sure the words “Environmental Impact Study” will come into play while the issue gets pondered.  I’ve got to wonder if the words “Economic Impact Study” will be uttered while they sit there with their questionably opposable thumbs firmly planted in their collective sphincters.


So that’s the background.


Here’s the foreground.


Typically, I don’t really offer up commentary on stuff like this because it’s just a supply line for my righteous indignation.  Even with this post, I’m not here to tell you about the spider to get all high and mighty with my opinions.


Instead, I found the story in the news the other day served as a wonderful backdrop for a picture I took in the backyard at my Mother-in-law’s house at the behest (demands) of my 5 year old nephew.


So far, a majority of the people I’ve shown it to (regardless of gender) have gotten a case of the icks and eeewws.  I’ve haven’t seen that many people freak out at a picture on my phone since I had that bout with a sebaceous cyst on my chest two years ago.

Randy Tharp

TharpSter is a husband to one woman, a father to two kids, a master to two dogs, an occasional cubical occupant, and unable to make up his mind on an adequate theme for this website.

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