It's good that they can't get you for stuff you've pulled in the distant past.
I'm not sure what the statute of limitations entails, but it would appear to render stupid actions on your part "okee dokie" after a certain amount of time has past.
I certainly hope so.
For example: I can't wait for my friend Judy to spill the names of big time celebrities she has taken on fat burning hikes for the ritzy spa that employs her. She has hinted broadly rgarding their identity, but claims that if she ever breathes a word of this hot dish she will be canned. Good whiskey and large glasses should be able to pry the names of the Hollywood lard-o's from her when the spa police are no longer a concern.
What got me thinking about the passage of time and information that may have been damaging was this: A close friend was cleaning his garage recently when he came across a picture of a distinguished looking gentleman in a rather exquisite lighted frame. It appeared to be the picture of the head of a corporation or at least a major do mo of some sort. The guy looked to be Scrooge McDuck rich.
Eventually it came to my friend. The man in the fancy frame was at one time the president of a major American broadcasting group. The name was no longer in the instant recall section of my friend's think melon, but he remembered that the guy had been a big deal some twenty-five years ago. How had this picture come to be in this garage?
Suddenly it came back to him. My friend had returned to San Diego after a five year long "West Coast Tour" of radio stations up and down the coast. In the sixties, seventies and eighties it was still common for on-air radio broadcasters to be itinerant job hoppers drifting "town to town up and down the dial", as they say in the theme song of WKRP in Cincinnati. Anyway...my friend was back in San Diego and reconnecting with old radio pals and one thing led to another. He had consumed a few cocktails, (Have you ever noticed how true boozers never have drinks? They have cocktails!), with his longtime degenerate buddy...Mr. X. (Okay, Bill.)
Somewhere around 11PM Bill mentioned that it would be a swell idea to take his newly returned bud on a tour of the local NBC TV station where Bill was the station booth announcer. (A booth announcer is the guy who records all the station Id's and promotional announcements.)
It was a marvelous tour I'm told. Bill took my friend through a sea of puzzled faces in the newsroom and even dropped by the director's booth while the 11 O'clock news was in progress. It was a tour that, I'm sure, the Boy and Girl Scouts never received. A tour that was the talk of the station for weeks to come.
As the two radio reprobates made their way to the lobby where the tour had begun, Bill went to the wall where the lighted picture of the then president of the company was hung and removed it from its place of prominence and handed it to his buddy.
"Here pal....everyone gets one of these as a souvenir of the station."
It seemed perfectly logical at the time...Or, so I'm told.
I wonder if Judy might be able to use a classy lighted frame when she is ready to give up a big name show biz lard ass?
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