Saying neigh to living outside city

I had the pleasure of addressing a large gathering last week, many of whom were members of the law enforcement community.

“Please try to be discreet,” my wife cautioned. “People know to expect satire when they hire me,” I reply.

“Satire could be a good thing,” she argued, “but I'd be careful about lampooning anyone who carries a gun.”

My talk, however, was nothing more than an effort to explain the advantages of living in the incorporated areas, commonly referred to as the city, versus residing in the more remote or rural locations in the county.

I felt I could speak with some degree of authority, since I recently relocated from the county to the city, where, I suggested, the public services were more efficient. I explained, for example, as a resident of the city I was now able to call the police in the event of an emergency rather than the sheriff.

I told my audience I felt more secure abut calling the police since they would likely be able to respond quickly, whereas, had I lived in the county and had to call the sheriff, they would first have to form a posse.

I can't say if there were ever any time trials to determine who would reach a target quicker, but I believe it's basically understood that a car is faster than a horse.

In any case, if someone was trying to break into my home, I'm convinced there would be a higher motivation for that person to leave if I warned that I had called the police and a squad car was on its way versus suggesting I notified the sheriff and he instructed his men to saddle up.

In fact, I conducted research on the Internet and discovered that there had been a lot of high-tech engineering put into revolutionizing police cars including the introduction, in certain areas, of a 7.3 liter, V12 engine that can enable vehicles to reach speeds of up to 220 miles per hour.

I'm fairly certain I would prefer that sort of a vehicle racing to my aid versus, say, a pony.

That's when a friend of mine came up with an opposing scenario, suggesting that if such a vehicle sustained a flat tire, I wouldn't be singing the same tune and would probably wish that it was the sheriff I had called, notwithstanding the fact that he was on his way on horseback.

I suggested his argument rang hollow since just as a vehicle could suffer a flat tire, a horse could just as easily take a tumble and break a leg, and everyone knows what happens to a horse that suffers such a fate.

In other words, comparing the two examples, even if a police car is delayed due to the need to change a flat tire, it's still faster than a dead horse.

“How did your talk go?” my wife inquired upon my return home.

“It was well received by a large portion of the audience,” I reported.

Contact humor columnist

Irv Erdos at Irverdos@aol.com.