Sunday, April 01, 2007
April Fool's Day
No opportunity to play a prank on anyone, so I'm considering short-sheeting my own bed, switching the milk and orange juice out, and of course, putting sugar in the salt shaker, and cornflakes under the pillow. All traditional tricks we would play on each other growing up. At some point it became "I know they switched out the salt. So I'll go get the sugar and put that on my hamburger." And the trick was NOT to have done it when they think you did. As is everything in life, a mind game.
No word from Tucker. Nothing under the door. I need to nail down the address of the apartment that was gutted - Tucker's apartment - if there is a Tucker.
I need the date of the gutting. That will lead me to the address. In our local community newspapers there's always a "police blotter" page that lists the crime in the neighborhood. Certainly, an apartment gutting would be important enough to be listed there (and not important enough to get major newspaper coverage).
I would guess this event occured after the show closed. During its run, Tucker would have no reason to think I'd have the time or interest to dabble in mysteries. It's no coincidence that he chooses to pique my interest when I've got Broken Leg Boredom.
So now I'm making a list of community newspapers, starting downtown. Someone whimsical enough to do this wouldn't live north of 28th.
Then, it's just a function of searching online editions for keywords in the police blotter reports.
Between tracking down Tucker, and my 500 steps in the hallway, tomorrow's going to be a big day. Tucker, my boy, I'm sniffing at your tracks. I'll have your address by Thursday.
No word from Tucker. Nothing under the door. I need to nail down the address of the apartment that was gutted - Tucker's apartment - if there is a Tucker.
I need the date of the gutting. That will lead me to the address. In our local community newspapers there's always a "police blotter" page that lists the crime in the neighborhood. Certainly, an apartment gutting would be important enough to be listed there (and not important enough to get major newspaper coverage).
I would guess this event occured after the show closed. During its run, Tucker would have no reason to think I'd have the time or interest to dabble in mysteries. It's no coincidence that he chooses to pique my interest when I've got Broken Leg Boredom.
So now I'm making a list of community newspapers, starting downtown. Someone whimsical enough to do this wouldn't live north of 28th.
Then, it's just a function of searching online editions for keywords in the police blotter reports.
Between tracking down Tucker, and my 500 steps in the hallway, tomorrow's going to be a big day. Tucker, my boy, I'm sniffing at your tracks. I'll have your address by Thursday.
