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Rock around the clock 

Forgive me for repeating myself, but would somebody shoot me? I've said it before, but nobody ever takes me up on the request. I'm serious this time. Somebody just walk up and shoot me in the head. Please.

It's time change time. Again. Which means that I'm losing an hour of precious, precious sleep, and I hate losing even one second of my precious, precious sleep. I'm about ready for the big sleep, as Raymond Chandler called it, which brings me back to the part about shooting me in the head. Do it.

Do it already. Aw, come on.

Well, on second thought, maybe a bullet to the brain isn't the best way to go. Oh, I'm sure that it's fast and all much quicker than, say, getting pummeled by a pillowcase full of doorknobs but it's oh-so-cliche, and I can't shuffle off this mortal coil on such mediocre terms. Mine has been a life marked by spontaneity, creativity, and dare I say? whimsy. Nah, that's too fluffy. How about playfulness? Yeah. Playfulness.

So forget the gun. Send me packing to the afterlife with a skateboard. That's playful enough, and there's no gunpowder required. It's a win-win.

Now before you squawk at me for being insensitive about that skateboard attack that happened a while back in San Luis Obispo, allow me to squawk at you first. I have skateboards on the brain and by that I mean I was thinking about getting brained by a skateboard because the San Luis Obispo County Courthouse just decided to ban the alternative modes of transportation from within its hallowed walls on the grounds that they can be used as weapons.

By that logic, I assume that just about anything of that relative size and shape could be used to off someone. A briefcase would certainly fit the bill especially one of those expensive, hard-sided ones with metal-reinforced corners. But I doubt the courthouse will ban briefcases, because then clerks and lawyers would have to walk around carrying big stacks of loose paper, and someone could get a paper cut and bleed to death, which is an even slower way of going than getting beaten with the doorknobs in the pillowcase.

What I want to know is when they're going to take that final step and prohibit judges from using gavels, which are basically just hard wooden hammers. I know that we all generally trust judges to act responsibly and only pound their mini-mallets on court-sanctioned surfaces, but if one of them snaps, the robed reprobate could probably get in a few whacks before the bailiff stepped in. Of course, I've seen a proceeding at which the only man in the room for security as far as I could tell kept nodding off, so I'm sure you'll understand if I want to keep my money with the skateboarders.

And I still want to go back to sleep. But since I can't, I'll just plow forward and hope that somebody sticks a knife in my back before I get to the end of this column.

We're still three time changes away from the next supervisor election, but word is the contenders are already lining up. Speculation is swelling in the North County over who might replace four-term pork-whisperer Harry Ovitt, and when speculation swells, somebody usually gets dragged out to sea. Mmmm That sounds nice.

Anyway, will it be Paso Robles mayor Frank Mecham? Cheesehead and Paso councilman Fred Strong? Barack Obama? But he'll get shot!

Blue types in San Luis Obispo are no doubt itching to get rid of Ovitt's pro-growth cohort, red type Jerry Lenthall, who played in an interesting scene Tuesday in Supervisors' chambers. Apparently, the supe got locked in a spar with David Duggan, one of Los Osos' more outspoken residents. For damn near nine years, birds like Duggan have been flapping and squawking over sewer issues at the regular CSD meetings every Thursday night in Los Osos. When Sam Blakeslee's summer bill gave power to the county, well, they had to go somewhere, right?

That somewhere was county supervisors' chambers. After a while, the room got so full of feathers and poop that the supes set up an aviary. A January motion set aside a plot of agenda space dealing with the Los Osos sewer project and nothing else. Any Los Osos talk during regular public comment was strictly verboten, which is a fancy German word for "nuh-uh."

This week, that decision fueled some drama when Duggan showed up looking to discuss some kinda-sorta-but-not-really-sewer-project-related issues, mostly dealing with the 2005 recall and mysteriously missing water board official Roger Briggs. Did you see the cover story this week? Did you?

Lenthall gaveled the man down, cut off his mic, and called recess to pow-wow with Duggan. I don't know what happened during that time for sure, but when the meeting reconvened, Lenthall called up the next speaker on the list and a Sheriff's deputy walked up to cart off the shouting Duggan. When the rabblerouser returned for the aviary, Lenthall read a prepared statement expressing the county's commitment to the First Amendment.

I'm glad to hear that the Bill of Rights is important to our supervisors and all, but I still want to know what promises or threats were tossed around behind those doors, and how First Amendment-y they were.

But what I really want to do is sleep. Or die. At this point, it's six of one, half-dozen of the other.

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