The FBI continues looking for the remains of Mr. Jimmy Hoffa with the same verve and vigor that kept Mr. Louis Leakey looking for those of Mr. Homo Habilis.
And the FBI's crack pick and shovel crews are back at it on a Michigan horse farm, this time around, looking for the tiniest fragments of Jimmy Hoffa in a field of wild clover and shattered dreams.
The whole sad sorry affair looks like a Boston Gas project where there's one guy bent over in the hole digging and eleven other guys standing around, leaning on their shovels, watching him work, while another guy's off getting coffee for the hourly break.
And speaking of Boston, and watching this team of wizened black clad G-Men put their backs into it, breaking the sod, pecking at rocks, piling up the dirt, I wonder who's on the trail of James 'Whitey' Bulger while they're so employed?
Sure and all, there's no doubt that Jimmy Hoffa's flying with the angels or stoking the fires with the devil or whatever, but he's gone, while the White Man is living high on the lam. He was a real problem not too long ago in Boston, where he was a politically connected serial killer, with a brother operating as President of the Massachusetts State Senate, with a close friend working for the FBI, keeping him abreast of all the latest investigations and tipping him off to his upcoming indictment.
You'd think that every available agent would be running down Whitey.
Hey, what about that well heeled Mr. Warren Jeff, the armed and dangerous polygamist? He's on the FBI's most wanted list, too. How come they aren't out in the field shaking the trees for that gun toting psychopath and child molester?
I'd sure hate to run into him at the local Arby's after he's had an argument with three or four of his wives, of whatever ages.
Don't get me wrong, I like the FBI, for the most part. They were always there, ready to step in front of you on a major bust to take the credit. But they did have lots of dough, something we didn't always have, to spread around.
But don't they have better things to do, nowadays, than to dig holes looking for the dear departed Mr. Hoffa?
Mr. Hoffa is so obviously gone. No letters, no phone calls, no post cards since July of 1975 - all of this from a man who always called when he was going to be late for dinner when he was calculating the vig on a late loan. And he's missed quite a few meals in the meantime.
I mean every two or three years the Feds show up with a load of agents and either tear a house to pieces, dig up a field, take a death bed confession, go through the rumpled notes of a departed news hound, subpoena a waitress, rummage around the New Jersey meadowlands or claim to have a new lead in the disappearance of James Riddle Hoffa.
Sure, Mr. Hoffa really upset Robert Kennedy, but that was years ago and they're both gone.
Yes, and Robert Kennedy really used to disturb Mr. John Edgar Hoover, though Mr. Hoover had no real affection for Mr. Hoffa, either, and his criminal allies in the Teamsters and their popular pension fund, too often linked to the mafia and Las Vegas casinos. And Mr. Hoover's gone, too.
And in the intervening years, the mafia has been pretty well broken up as well.
So why is FBI always so hot on the trail of Jimmy Hoffa when they should be looking for the Iranians who might have helped Tim McVey, the terrorists who are living among us, the coyotes who drive across the southern border with impunity, the bomb building cranks, the guys peddling the Anthrax, and all the hoodlums who are doing their best to destroy the country?
And why hasn't the FBI, with all their resources, their snitches and their money, been able to catch James Bulger, formerly of Boston and now the world, and his girlfriend?
But I guess there is something about the whole Jimmy Hoffa episode that has put an especially large hook into the FBI to keep them on his trail for these 31 or so years, especially with all the other homicides, crimes and conspiracies which have gone unsolved in the meantime and which are going on now.
We are at war and they continue digging for Jimmy, like leprechauns for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.
I wish we could expend this much time and effort on every murder case.
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