Memories of a White Bronco and a Glove that Wouldn’t Fit

I think about O.J. Simpson too often for my own good.

When I am getting ready to go to the the synagogue every morning and I happen to notice that it is 6:17 A.M., I think, “O.J.!”

When I am walking home from the train at night and I happen to notice that it is 6:17 P.M., I think, “O.J.!”

And of course, every year on June seventeenth I think of O.J. Simpson.

I think about the white Bronco and the police chase and the trial that followed — with the glove that didn’t fit and the criminal charge that did not stick partially because of that glove.

I think of Phish playing in Wisconsin that evening, and finding out about the chase down the freeway and teasing O.J. for the entire second set of their concert.

Today for some reason I can’t help but think of Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman. How it has been twenty-one years since their death and nobody has been found guilty of their murder — though there have been some leads.

A curious case, indeed. Is anyone investigating it now? Is it considered a closed and unsolvable case? Or has everyone basically decided that they already know who did it but there is no way to pursue it any longer?

During the Phish show that evening, there are repeated references to O.J. In the song “Simple,” for example, Trey sings,

We’ve got O.J.
‘cos we’ve got a band
and we’ve got O.J. in the band
What is a band without O.J.?
OJ IS GRAND!

This of course fits in with the other lyrics to the song about what is in the band. Cymbops and bebaphones, skyballs and saxscrapers included.

I can’t help but think that this case will in fact be resolved in the future, somehow — perhaps using a science that has not yet been discovered.

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One thought on “Memories of a White Bronco and a Glove that Wouldn’t Fit

  1. Pingback: Twenty-Two years after a White Bronco captivated America | blog of gordon davidescu

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