Why-o, why-o, why-o (one reason I left Idaho)

I was back in Twin all of 36 hours this past weekend, and standing in the 10-items-or-less checkout line at Albertson's, when I couldn't help but admire the fine tats on the back of the neck of the customer in front of me. In Gothic script, the letters spelled out the surname of one of the prominent families of the Magic Valley underworld. Then I recognized the guy: my chief deputy represented him shortly after his brother was shot, and very shortly after, toward the alleged killer in open court, he had made comments and gestures that could be taken the wrong way (e.g., a pointed index finger and a cocked thumb).

I figured I needed to shop for a few more items.