The Deuce Gets Mooned

I should probably explain 'The Deuce' first. See, I live in a big town fulla GEEKS (of which I am proudly one) and Ann Arbor gets shortened to A² (A Squared) all the time—it's extremely convenient for things like the corner of envelopes or writing somebody directions. Well the local teens have just ignored the 'A' thing altogether and have focused on the TWO and so Ann Arbor becomes the Deuce.

I know you've heard me talk about reality never coming here before, but SURReality seems to make a show now and again, as it did with whip guy and the chicken people. Well this week we've had a big dose of it.

You may KNOW that Sunday and Monday were this months full moon night—if you were a werewolf, I'm not sure if your third night transforming would have been Saturday or last night, but I am VERY clear about the two... Let me e'splain.



Mental Health Central

I'm going to be a little obtuse here, for the sake of privacy, but one of my daughter's friends had a mental health crisis this week and chose HER to reach out to. She in turn reached out to me and I made a call to the mom who had actually just been pulled in by the teen, so all's well that ends well, but it was a sort of scary event.

What I DO want to share, that I can't emphasize strongly enough, is that while some teens really DO need medication for very REAL mental health issues, the warning about teens and anti-depressants—and suicidal thoughts and tendencies, need to be taken VERY seriously. A teen who needs them is a teen who ALREADY HAS some issues, but no matter HOW STABLE they seem, no matter HOW MUCH things appear to have been improved, they need monitoring, communication, and a support system.

This is NOT her first friend this has happened with. It's REAL. Resort to meds only after behavioral and cognitive things have been tried, and then WATCH CAREFULLY and open up lines of trust.

Nuff said.



Crime Spree

Then, Monday night, my son and his friend come home for dinner at about six, leave their bikes (son actually rides MY bike, as he kept blowing out his Scwinn brakes) in the front yard and come in to eat. Twenty minutes later, my bike is gone. Somebody walked up into our front yard in BROAD FREAKING DAYLIGHT and stole my bike! This is Ann Arbor—things like this don't HAPPEN here!

And worse...

I went downtown around seven o'clock to pick up my daughter who'd been hanging out with friends and on the way home, three houses from home, she points out a 'tussle' of some sort. “What do you think is going on there?”

There is a struggle, a fight of some sort—physical, and it looks like the bigger person is trying to choke the smaller one. My car gets closer, as we have to drive right by, and I stop and yell, “Hey, do you need help over there?”

The pair break apart a little, the woman jerks free, stumbles a little (pretty sure she's high), and the guy says, “It's none of your business.”

I respond, “You can't just assault somebody. I'm calling the police,” as the girl stumbles off down the street.

I get home, call the police, describe what I saw. Hubby, who'd been talking to the neighbor thinks I've called about the bike, “sheesh, no—I called about the ASSAULT IN PROGRESS. I totally FORGOT about the bike.”

So hubby proceeds to do his Gladys Kravtiz thing, walks around talking to neighbors, warning the little old ladies to keep their garages closed (for the bike thief) and asks a couple questions. He found two OTHER people who'd witnessed this assault and CALLED the police, plus a young woman who saw but hadn't been sure what to do. The assault moved down the street a little (in the construction lane of what normally is one of the Deuce's busiest streets- and the police took 30 freaking minutes to arrive—had the been even ten minutes earlier, it still would have been going on.

So I'm ANNOYED at the slow response—that girl could have been raped or dead by the time they got there. I SUSPECT they thought the people would disappear into the woods and be hard to find, but WORRY that it sounded like a domestic dispute and they figured it would work itself out. Hello, NO!

I know there are people who might think a woman on drugs gets what she deserves, but I happen to think people who think that deserve a little time in a jail cell with a big guy named Bubba. Nobody deserves violence. Ever.

So that was OUR little excitement. Anybody else have any full moon stories to report?