I realize I often threaten to pound out a short and sweet column and, as you realize by now, that rarely occurs. However, there is a strong possibility that your dreams might come true this week as I’m going to concentrate on one, tiny-little-thing that kind of leads to state of perpetual (not my fiance) pondering.

Actually, this one, tiny-little-thing will lead to some sort of epic tale of the olden days or some silly stuff like that so, I take back the part about this being short and sweet. Boy, that didn't last long huh?

Here it is: Have you ever noticed when a crime has been committed and it hits the news, (a robbery for instance), the newscaster describes what the hood was wearing at the time of the incident?

I’ve always wondered about that for two reasons. Number one: I would certainly think that even the dumbest gangster among us would have the fortitude to quickly change after the dastardly deed. Wouldn’t that be the smart thing to do...criminally speaking, that is?

It might be kind of fun to find out how many of these thugs are actually apprehended whilst sporting the same attire that they wore during the act of law breaking.

Number two: The descriptions of said duds are always the same. They run along the lines of: “He was last seen wearing blue jeans, a dark sweatshirt, a ball cap and tennis shoes.”

I mean really, I would be tickled beyond belief and would find it to be wild, crazy and a little charming, actually, if we were to hear the following—just once: “The assailant was last seen dressed in a light-weight brown sports jacket, khaki-colored trousers, a powder blue dress shirt and penny loafers.” Wouldn't that be kind of nifty?

Moving along, this is the part of the piece where I mentally travel to my childhood and pluck some pearls of wisdom, or insanity, if you will, from my delightfully deceased dad. Now, before you get all up in arms about the “delightfully deceased” part, my father would have gotten a total kick out of those words being used in his name. Anyone who knew him will comprehend this so, calm down right this instant.

This voyage to the past does tie in eventually so stay with me here if you would. Please??

At any rate, my father, nicknamed “Germ” when I was but-a-teen, might, posthumously, help to solve the mystery of the look-a-like thugs. (On a side note, dad used to get nervous when a commercial for Lysol would air because of the “kills all household germs” line.)

If my father were alive today, he would certainly attribute the reason for criminals dressing alike to his theory that we ALL don the same style. He would, more than likely, tell all in his path to be on the look-out for a guy following the “national dress code.”

For reasons no sane human being understood, my father couldn't get a grip on the love fest surrounding jeans. Just the mention of the devilish denim brought to the surface of his cluttered mind some sort of derangement syndrome most associated these days with all things Palin or Bush.

He loathed seeing the “offensive wear” on the cabooses of the masses and oft, while cruising through the park, (in the olden days when such maneuvers could be carried out), would say something like: “Look at this. It’s a sea of *%$# blue everywhere you look. Not one ounce of originality.”

There we have it. Mystery solved. The crowds at Conneaut Lake Park had simply finished robbing the local grocery store and were seeking shelter in a public place to blend in. Could it be?

At any rate, the talking head imparting to the public what the crook was last seen wearing is just a goofy observation, yet again, on my part.

I guess Germ was right as really, all an anchor person should have to do when alerting the public would be to say: “He was last seen wearing the under thirty American uniform.”

As frightening as this is to admit, I have taken note of the national dress code but, I follow the code to a tee, much to Mother's chagrin. (Do you know that she has NEVER worn a pair of jeans?) Therefore, I cannot be critical of such. I can only admit to myself and others, that I am becoming my father, with a healthy dose of Mother thrown in to enhance that critical gene that I must possess in order to pound out weekly nonsense like this.

Well, that sums it up for this time. If you hear about a robbery of a convenience store on the evening news and the reporter says: “You heard that right. The Grab and Go was ransacked by a woman in a purple ball gown, tiara and glass slippers,” have no worries. It will just be news of your humble columnist trying to at least jazz up the look of the common culprit. All in the memory of Germ, of course.

Hmm, I might have to go through Mother's gardening and dusting cocktail dresses in order to find just the right look for this job. Wish me luck!