Follow Your Bliss

In the excerpt below, Kenny zooms around his small town, listening to the police scanner, seeking out crashes and calamities. From T. R. Pearson's, True Cross, p. 13:

Kenny, you see, was not an official rescue-squad employee but was instead a sort of mascot and hanger-on. He had no training to speak of in first aid or firefighting techniques, had been an unsuccessful candidate for a job with the county police, had proven inept as a wrecker driver for a salvage yard up the gap and so had little but ghoulishness to recommend him. We most of us share in a taste for misfortune as long as it's visited on somebody else, and Kenny was no different, just more vigilant and mobile, a have-rubberneck-will-travel sort of guy.