August 19, 2002
Conspiracy to commit wormery?
Being newly enrolled in the citizen army of national TIPsters and more than ever alert to the blatant criminal activity around us, I read with interest your feature article on the adventures of Mr. Foreman while fishing with his son. So as not to muddy the waters, I shall set aside the issues of entrapment by the state, the dangling of the bait (in this case worms for sale at the local store), the following of the perp to the river, the agent's bold arrest (and subsequent high conviction rate, leading to promotions, bonuses, certificates suitable for framing, etc.) [safer than arresting poachers who may shoot back], the making of the world safe for worms, and the nipping in the bud of a potential wave of illegality, and just get on to the obvious.
I wonder if Mr. Foreman has counted his blessings? Presumably he has the option to stay in his present job for the rest of his life, thus never having to air his criminal record. And let us not slight the arresting officer, painted in this episode as some sort of heartless wormlike creature.
After all, he did not arrest the boy. He should have, for it was the boy who was fishing. This would also have ensured that the criminal record extended past the present generation. Mr. Foreman's son should then not be able to hide his misdeeds while applying for college, the military, or for any job above McDonald's. It is still within the statute of limitations, I suppose.
Instead of seeing your photo of Mr. Foreman's son on the front page, perhaps we should see it soon at the post office or on America's Most Wanted. Perhaps he is even now thinking of taking his Snoopy fishing pole to school with its sharp hook falling into the new category of school "Weapons and Explosives" violations. That will look good on his record, too.
And let's throw in conspiracy to commit wormery; clearly father and son thought this up together. That would make young Will a three-time loser and win him a life sentence. Why not? Yes, Mr. Foreman, count your blessings. That was a close call.
David Damkaer, Monroe