O.J. Simpson is guilty again!! Or for the first time, depending on which way your 1994 vote swung. After successfully evading all kinds of prison for the alleged murder of his ex-wife Nicole Brown and her friend Ronald Goldman, O.J. is now headed to the slammer for reclaiming some of his old football junk from a pair of collectors. At gunpoint.
Let’s wallow for a necessary minute in the glory that was O.J., circa 1993. He’d been the first man to rush more than 2000 yards in one NFL season! He’d played Detective Norberg in all of the Naked Guns! He’d hosted an episode of SNL, back when it was funny! He was a living legend! The good kind!!!!
And yet, after decades where he could do no wrong, O.J. has spent the last 15 years effing up repeatedly. Just not enough to get himself into jail. Allegedly kills wife and friend: is acquitted. Is convicted in civil trial of wrongful death (what does that even mean?) of same: is given piddling $33.5 million fine. Writes bizarre, purportedly hypothetical description of how he would have killed said wife and friend if, you know, he were in the mood: has rights to book seized and royalties given to father of aforementioned friend. I mean, before this month it seemed like O.J. couldn’t buy permanent jail time.
So what drives a man to endanger his freedom one more time? O.J. is, to all appearances, still living off of his NFL pension of $25,000/month (which happens to be what my entire college degree cost, most of which I still owe the government. Thanks, Harper!). Sure he’s a public pariah, and the Goldmans may have a claim on any money he makes from here on in from video game royalties or endorsements for Honeybaked Hams, but the man could still buy an army of small children and make them chant his name. Life can’t be that bad.
Clearly, Orenthal J is jonesing to get behind bars. He moved to Miami allegedly to retain his house (they can’t take your property to pay back a judgment in Florida), but what if he just wanted some peace and quiet? And Miami was all full of seniors lindy-hopping and shuffle-boarding and he thought to himself, Well, what’s quieter than prison? Whatever sentimental value some old autographed photos of himself hold, they can’t possibly be the real reason behind O.J.’s latest blaze of felonization. I say we give the man what he wants, and let him have his
prison cell retirement home. For good.