The Lesser Offense?

 A few years ago, one of my students disappeared a couple of weeks into the semester.  She re-appeared near the end of semester, begging me to allow her to make up the work she missed.  I relented.  She submitted the essays and research paper a week before the final exam. 

I didn’t have to read much to confirm my suspicion:  She hadn’t written those essays or the paper. On the day of the final exam, I returned her work with red “F”s scrawled across them, along with the web addresses where I found “her” work.

“I didn’t plagiarize.”

“So why did I find these papers on the web?”

“I didn’t plagiarize them.  My friend did it for me!”

This week’s “Sunday funny” reminded me of that episode. Just as my former student thought she was not violating the college’s academic integrity policy because she hadn’t done the plagiarism herself, a public official tried to save face by claiming that he was behaving more responsibly by riding his bicycle rather than driving after a night of drinking.

Ty Ross, a Fernandina Beach (Florida) City Manager, had been in his post for only two weeks when police found him lying beside his bike on a roadside. 

Whether or not getting on two wheels instead of four is more responsible behavior after drinking, the officers decided he hadn’t committed a citeable offense and offered him a ride home, which he accepted.

If I recall correctly, my former student failed my class but the college didn’t expel her. That didn’t upset me. But I wonder whether she refined her sense of what is right or wrong—or whether Ross will.

Had he caused or suffered any harm, he would’ve been a candidate for a Darwin Award.

You Can Do That On A Bike

 As I pedaled across the bridge from New Brunswick to Highland Park, New Jersey, a police cruiser pulled up alongside me.

That should have been easy to do because no one else was crossing the bridge at that hour.  But I noticed that the cruiser approached me in an almost hesitant way. 

The officer in the non-driver rasped, “Stop.”  I complied.  He opened his door.

“You know, you were weaving all over the road.  I know there’s no traffic, but still...

I looked at him sheepishly.  “Where are you going’?”

He realized I was only a couple blocks from the apartment I shared.  “OK.  Be careful.  And next time, get a ride home.”

I don’t know whether he smelled the hooch or simply knew, from looking at me, that I could just barely see—let alone ride—straight.  (Had I understood then what I understand now, I would have realized that I can’t do anything straight!;-)

I was about 20 and since then, much fluid has passed under that bridge. It was one thing to ride home drunk from a party because of youthful folly combined with a lack of planning. So I have to wonder about the wisdom of a

bike ride with stops for alcohol consumption.

Apparently, some folks in Scottsdale, Arizona think it would be fun.  They’ve planned a  bicycle pub crawl  for Leap Year Day (29 February).

I wonder:  How does one crawl on a bicycle?  And how far do they ride between each pub? 

Blame It On The Bike!

During my youth, I did lots of strange, stupid and forbidden things that I tried to smooth over with implausible explanations to parents, teachers, professors, supervisors, lovers and other people.  Probably even a cop or two.

I might have even said something like this:

Now, whether the cop believed me, I won't say--mainly, because you know the answer.  All I know is that when I woke up, I wasn't in jail.  But I sure had a headache--and a bike to fix!