Presto! Pasco's Approach To Life Is Novel

So one free spirit with Pasco connections nabs an installment on "The Colbert Report," securing his promised 15 minutes of fame, and now everybody wants into the act.

Never mind that, from a TV producer's point of view, Pasco has achieved a been-there, done-that quality. Nor that to qualify as Comedy Central-worthy, dismissed substitute teacher Jim Piculas had to demonstrate at least a modicum of talent - and we're not talking exclusively about his abilities as a junior Houdini.

After breaking the proverbial camel's back with the vanishing toothpick trick, Piculas demonstrated more spin than a Whirlpool front-loader to whip up controversy and instantaneous celebrity status with his (ill-established) claim that he was banished for making like Lord Voldemort in front of a group of gape-eyed Hogwarts applicants.

Be that as it may, at least Piculas was as resourceful as he was superbly prestidigital in getting out his side of what went down that fateful January day at Rushe Middle School, establishing his bona fides in the persistence portion of the fleeting-fame contest.

Seeking A Teachable Moment

But what has been unfolding lately in our fair county, while plainly appalling, lacks the textured intrigue or even the hint of uniqueness necessary to be noteworthy beyond our borders. Fifteen minutes? This Space is loath to give them 15 lines. Still, duty is as duty does.

Attention must be paid when sheriff's deputies report they've chased down a 13-year-old flouting assorted traffic rules clutching the wheel of an '01 Nissan Sentra in the wee hours Wednesday. And not simply so we can wag fingers at presumably negligent parents. What does that get us? Two minutes of feeling superior?

Better to use this as a teachable moment. Folks who would never have a firearm in the house because of what might happen if one of the kids got their hands on it leave the keys to the family sedan in the tray by the door, tempting, while teens marinate in the worrisome lessons of "Grand Theft Auto IV."

Not that the game and young Cody Alexander Foster of New Port Richey have been linked. I'm just saying:

Adults are free to take this opportunity to reconsider what the youngsters in their charge feed the family's Xbox 360.

Thoughtfully Thorough; Tidy, Too

We're also thinking the activities of former free woman Peggy Sue Abbott, while ripe for fictionalizing in a Lifetime movie, are unlikely to etch her name in blogosphere lore or cable news legend.

However, when it came to dispatching, with prejudice, an inconvenient man, Abbott and her confessed accomplice, Melody Samion, brought to the task an exquisite thoroughness that was also uniquely (that word again) feminine.

Through drugging, smothering, strangling (with a swimsuit string; nice touch) and asphyxiating with garbage bags, the pair ushered Moon Lake's Jerome Selby into the next world without leaving a big mess to clean up in this one. Heloise, take note.

Throw in a Port Richey doctor convicted in federal court on child pornography charges, a Hudson home invasion involving stolen guns, ammo and handcuffs, and a kangaroo court decrying a proposed compost heap outside Dade City, and it's been quite the week.

Not a Piculas-level week, mind. But one that could form the foundation for one of those only-in-Florida Randy Wayne White/Tim Dorsey/Carl Hiaasen absurdist-mystery tomes publishers so dearly love.

Giving material to novelists: Nice work, Pasco. Really. Nice work.