Bright & Brief
RIVERTON, Wyo. (AP) _ Just about every day David Wimp gets up, rolls out of bed, turns on his calculator and starts counting.
One plus one, plus one, plus one, plus one, plus one, plus one.
Wimp got to 3 million the other day, one by one, and now he’s counting backwards. Once he hits zero, he’ll start counting to 5 million.
″I’ll stop and eat,″ he said last week. ″The calculator will still be on. Then I’ll just go back a-peckin’.″
In the past 436 days, he has worn out eight calculators, and he figures he’s consumed 71,583 feet of paper and made 5,790 mistakes on his way to his last million.
Wimp’s first million took him five years.
He’s pretty quick now, spending as many as six hours in a day poking the calculator.
On weekends he’ll don a rubber thimble to protect his finger and bang away while watching television.
″I glance up every once in a while and watch the show,″ he said.
He’s so quick, in fact, that he can add 1,000 numbers in an hour.
Even at 1,000 an hour, it takes 1,000 hours of inputting to reach a million.
Wimp, 44, spent 20 years as a cook in the Army. He served 30 months in Vietnam and retired as a staff sergeant before returning to his central Wyoming hometown two years ago. He’s been married and divorced three times.
Why does he do it?
″I ain’t never figured that out yet,″ Wimp said. ″I don’t know. Everything doesn’t have to have a reason does it?″
Besides, he says, what else is there to do?
″I don’t know what else I would do if I wasn’t doing this.″
MINOT, N.D. (AP) - When 8-year-old Jennifer Georgis put on a pair of old police handcuffs, she had no idea what the menacing manacles would do.
Four hours after first trying to take off the cuffs, which tightened as she moved, she found out.
Minot’s rescue squad was called and emergency workers brought bolt cutters.
″The bolt cutters, they were right against the skin,″ Jennifer said.
″The first thing I did when they cut the chain was go to the bathroom,″ which she couldn’t do while cuffed because she was wearing a one-piece, button-down jumpsuit.
Jennifer found the cuffs in a desk drawer, ″where she wasn’t supposed to be,″ her mother said, Janet Georgis.
The cuffs belonged to the girl’s father, Stephen Georgis, a former police officer with the U.S. Air Force. But the keys had been lost.