Meanderings and Musings of a Cluttered Mind

It may have been the most dangerous thing I ever did in a long time -- or at least a little stupid -- but can't help but think Devin put me up to it. Since I'm still alive to write the tale, guess it doesn't matter, danger or stupidity aside. And I may have made a new friend in the process, all the while just stopping to say "Hello" to my son at St. James Cemetery. It's been 22 months since Devin was hit and killed by a driver on a cell phone. I talk to him often in my car, but really felt the urge to visit his grave today. Sometimes I just get a sense to do it. Great Cemetery People -- whoever they are -- left us a nasty note a month or so ago, and said we couldn't have any toys by the grave, so we moved the white angel that decorated the back. The party pooper patrol in charge of such edicts took the other knick-knacks Devin's friends had left as tokens of their visit. Couldn't help but think the grave looked way too lonely and naked. &qu

There are certain laws of life we must always adhere to, and one of the most important is there will always be some jackass somewhere doing some kind of jackassery stuff, just to let the rest of the world know that jackasses exist. Exhibit A is Michael Petricone, the senior vice president of government and regulatory affairs at the Consumer Electronics Association.  Up until now, I figured the senior VP of the Consumer Electronics Association just went to state funerals for iPhones that mistakenly get dropped in toilets, but it appears he has an additional duty that requires the finest level of jackasseryness. Just in time to make sure public perception of dead people doesn’t somehow affect holiday Christmas sales, Mike released a statement that disagrees with the National Transportation Safety Board and basically says it’s OK to drive and use a cell phone or other electronic device while driving, and these wonderful technologies actually make it safer to drive. Appar

This is the picture. It's the one I see in my mind when I really don’t want to, the one that will always be there and never go away. It’s the car the driver drove, while talking on her cell phone, that hit my son, who was pedaling his bicycle home from work, that amputated his leg and killed him. His name is Devin. I’m not really sure how long he lived after he was hit, as the driver kept driving with him on the car for 800 feet and didn’t stop for three-quarters of a mile, and didn’t call 911 until … when?  According to her police statement, she was on the phone. Her phone records show there were three calls to or from her boyfriend at 12:34 a.m., 12:35 a.m. and 12:45 a.m. She told police the crash happened shortly after the first phone call. She said she heard someone say, “Hello,” then she closed her eyes for a long blink and heard a bang. If the crash happened shortly after the first phone call, that means it happened after 12:34 a.m. but before 12:35 a.

Thirteen months and 23 days after my son was killed, I sat across the table from a GEICO employee who wanted to hear about Devin. I didn't plan to cry. But I didn't plan on my son getting killed by a driver on a cell phone on Aug. 7, 2011, while riding his bicycle home from work, either. We already lived through months of agonizing preparation for a criminal trial on negligent homicide, only to see the D.A. drop the charges and instead issue a ticket for inattentive driving. The 18-year-old driver paid a fine of $100. But now -- finally -- it seemed, GEICO wanted to do the right thing. This isn't about money for us. It's never been about money. It's certainly not about hitting the one-armed bandit jackpot. It was simply about the principle of respecting human life, and paying what they were accountable to pay, so we could find a way to honor Devin and use that money to save other lives. It was just so someone on the other side of this would say, "Yes, human