Sneaky…sneaky.
I tweeted last night about how I was the getaway driver for my daughters and their friends, who “sporked” the front yard of a friend of theirs. Then tonight I watched the movie Salt. See how my brain works? I was sneaky last night and then watched a sneaky spy movie tonight.
So I’m thinking about some sneaky things I’ve done or experienced.
On September 11, 2001 one of my friends called me. She was in Washington, DC and could see US fighter jets flying around the city. At one or more points in the phone conversation her voice cracked and she basically was crying. I’m not sure why I did it, but as soon as the conversation started I pressed the “record” button. Yes, I did this without her permission. I kept it on that phone for a long time. I never really listened to it and I believe it’s long been deleted from a phone system hard drive that we don’t use anymore. But that was an invasion of privacy. It was sneaky. Even mentioning it now is kind of sneaky (or bad), don’t you think?
On November 22, 1963 President John F. Kennedy was shot while riding in a motorcade in downtown Dallas, TX. I met a fellow one time that was a reporter for a major newspaper in a foreign country at the time. He received a phone call in the middle of the night with the news that the President of the United States had just been shot and he was then given instructions that he needed to get on this story right away and that a cab was waiting in his driveway to take him to work immediately. I thought that was pretty interesting. A few years later I asked him if I could interview him about it. He very politely declined, citing his employment for this particular newspaper/media mogul and, even though his employment had ended a long time ago, he did not want anything potentially negative to be said about this former employer. Wow. Doesn’t that sound kind of sneaky?
Then there’s the song by The White Stripes, “I Smell A Rat.”
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