While Cracking the Lobsters, I Can’t Resist Reading

Last night my daughter brought back 15 lively live lobsters from the Scarborough Maine lobster pound. While the bright red crustaceans sat cooling off on the rail of the deck we set the table for an outdoor lobster feed. I found some papers from the fireplace and laid them out so we could begin cracking apart the lobsters.

We didn’t have any lobster crackers nor even the little picks used to extract the delicate white meat from the crevices…so we set up an upside down mortar and pestle and began wacking the legs and spattering each other with lobster juice across the table. I kept looking down and reading the newspapers that were laid below us at they turned grey with the moisture of the leaky lobbies.

I couldn’t help being drawn to a story in the WSJ about an attempt to sabotage a billionaire industrialist’s helicopter by two maintenance workers. In Mumbai, employees of Air Works Ltd poured pebbles and dirt into the gearbox of Anil Ambami’s Bell helicopter. The big guy was supposed to use the craft the following morning. According to the story, one of the perpetrators of the crime was later found run over by a commuter train. Police say that he committed suicide because of the stress of being an accused murderer.