Every spring and summer we hear about how mosquitoes can cause some illnesses, which have claimed a few lives and put many Chesapeake citizens in hospital beds. Last year it was the dreaded West Nile disease. How many times have we been reminded to empty all outdoor containers so there will be no incubating water available to these wanton insects? The city of Chesapeake had particularly severe infestations and many thousands of dollars have been spent spraying the neighborhoods. No one really knows the long-range effects of breathing poisonous fumes but the people keep demanding more of it, which seems to do little good. So where are the promiscuous devils laying their eggs? Do you suppose these sexual encounters are taking place somewhere in that 78 square miles of damp and dark Dismal Swamp lands that lie within the city boundaries? Sorry, you can’t spray in there; it’s a protected wilderness. Happy swatting.

The race for Democrat Party presidential candidate is on, two years ahead of the next national election. Mr. Gore has not yet even begun to realize that he has been pronounced dead by the majority of his financial backers, even though the pallbearers have been selected. Every time he has opened his mouth the past two years he and the voters dig his hole a little deeper. His replacement has all but been named. They were toying with the thought of John McCain who would switch parties if his feelings were hurt. But now they have begun to groom another John of Vietnam fame. John of the head of hair has admitted early that he spends $150 each week to have his pompadour fussed over and glued in place. He wants this indication of obscene wealth out now instead of during the final campaign when things usually get very dirty. Wealthy does not describe his married financial situation but unfortunately he is limited to spending only $50,000 of her money. If you believe that any law would stop him, you still wait up for the tooth fairy.

I went looking for a handicap parking space at the local Wal-Mart today but could not find one empty. I drove around and around looking and saw many cars without the blue plastic card handing from the rearview mirror, or the signifying license plate. I counted 18 that legally should not have been in those spaces. I had a choice, park 200 yards away or say to hell with shopping at Wal-Mart. I chose the latter and waved down one of Suffolk’s finest, complained and was told that most violators had probably forgotten to display the blue plastic card and it probably would do no good to ticket them and watch sympathetic judges dismiss the case.

That does not seem to be good judgment on the cops’ part because it’s also possible they were all violators. I limped to the store, hot, to give someone a piece of my angry mind. Just inside was another of Suffolk’s finest. He at least apologized and remarked that the department’s officers should do a better job of policing those limited parking places. I guess it wasn’t his job or anyone else’s job on that cold day but I take him at his word. Chief Freeman best make up his mind if he wants to please the violators and the judges, or those that need to park there. And don’t cop out by saying it’s Wal-Mart’s responsibility.

Doesn’t it seem to you that every other day we read about, or hear about some celebrity who has won his/her personal war against drugs and is now honored on simpleminded morning TV programs, or late afternoon tell all shows. Some of them have even written a book on how they triumphed over the evil menace that was forced upon them by their adoring public. These are usually people with contrived fame suffering from too much easy money. They lay it to the fact they are so much in demand they must travel endlessly with no time for a life of their own. Apparently there is a law that makes the use of harmful drugs mandatory. They are so out of touch with the real world they have never heard of the danger of addiction. Nor are they aware that many of their ilk have been rendered senseless and useless. They are often lauded for stopping but never chastised for beginning. Which demonstrates that it sometimes takes a lot of money to be stupid. I mean your heart really goes out to helpless Winona Ryder.

A final, unrelated thought: why don’t we rename our Executive Airport after the area in which it located? What’s wrong with Whaleyville Executive Airport? It’s easier to say, and if we aren’t going to give them sewers, at least toss them an airport.

Robert Pocklington is a resident of Suffolk and a regular columnist for the News-Herald.