I was a Witness to the Mob

No, not THE mob, but rather the Roman mob.

I found myself at a professional sporting event tonight and, during halftime, I noticed something peculiar. The PA announcer declared that it was time for the t-shirt cannon, but the little dude assigned to our section didn't have a cannon. He just had to chuck the giveaways up into the stands.

I like to stretch my legs and walk around a bit during the break so I happened to be standing at the top of of the lower bowl observing the mayhem.

It was then then that I was struck with the oddest thought.

This scene looked familiar...

If you had turned the clocks back 2,000 years you could have been at the Coliseum in Rome.

Just imagine, the Emperor in his little box observing the masses while the breadth of his charity strode in on a cart pulled pulled by a horse or a team of horses. The driver stopping and pausing for just a few moments in front of each section so the slaves could throw loaves of bread up into the stands for the mob.

That is exactly the scene I witnessed tonight.

Try and picture each member of the mob raising their hands, yelling, jumping up and down, all in a vain effort to get the attention of the thrower in the hopes of receiving some of the scrapes from the Emperor.

It was quite surreal... 

P.S. Don't forget all of my books (Kindle) are free until April 4!