Over coffee in the living room this morning, Jan asked me if the Ambassador Bridge had re-opened. Reaching for my trusty smartphone, I confirmed that it had, after a bomb threat closed it yesterday.
We began talking about the very serious consequences about making a bomb threat. Jail time with a conviction has to be measured in years, don't you think?
Then we began laughing about our trying to pull off a bomb threat without being detected, and how we would be hopeless. We'd be identified by the authorities as "persons of interest" within an hour of phoning in the threat, the authorities having cleverly traced the call. We have no idea how to do such things in a manner that can't be detected.
Within 90 minutes, we would be identified as the suspects, and would be arraigned the same day. Bail would not be available, given the seriousness of the crime. We would be interrogated separately under hot lights.
If we tried to escape before being captured, we wouldn't get far. We thought about high-tailing it to our grandson Noah's house, with authorities hot on our trail. If the police arrived at the house, we'd run out the back door but when the police entered the house Noah, in his innocence, would tell them exactly when we had left, and the direction in which we were headed.
No sir, a life of crime isn't for us. If the moral transgression and the guilt that follows the willful commission of a crime isn't a sufficient deterrent, and we like to think it always would, then common sense would tell us that our lack of skills in this area, and the certainty of being swiftly captured and imprisoned, would tip the scales against a life of crime for Amma and Pa. Besides, we'd miss visiting Noah.
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