If you don't want my help...

On one of my last OT shifts before my well earned and much deserved leave, I had occasion to respond to the following debacle...

I was advised by Dispatch of a less than cooperative caller reporting some HS (Health & Safety...short for drug related) activity. The caller wanted some questions answered. She refused to identify herself with the exception of her first name. Being the helpful Officer that I am, I rang her up and had this conversation:

MC: Good Afternoon, this is MC with Town PD.

Non-Cooperative Crazy Woman (this should be self-explanatory soon): Hi. I think my neighbor is growing and dealing marijuana and I want you to do something about it.

MC: Okay. What leads you to believe this is the case?

NCCW: I just know.

MC: Ma'am, unfortunately, I can't just take your word on something like this. I need some kind of evidence to move forward. Have you seen drug deals happen? Have you seen plants? How did you come to have this information?

NCCW: I'm not prepared to give you any information. Why can't you just stop them?

MC: Well, Ma'am, I can't just stop them because at this point, I have nothing that leads me to believe anything illegal is going on. I'd be happy to contact the involved parties if you could just give me a little something to go on.

NCCW: This is ridiculous. I can't believe you're not going to help me.

MC: It's not a matter of not helping you Ma'am. It would be like you calling to tell me your neighbor is a terrorist and I need to report him to Homeland Security. I can't violate someone's civil rights just because you say so. I need some kind of evidence or witness.
NCCW: My son won't be happy.

**Ding, ding, ding** If you have the same suspicion as I do, run, don't walk to your nearest Police Training Facility and apply. Methinks Little Johnny may have something to do with the purchasing of the Evil Weed!

MC: Ma'am, I understand your hesitation, but if you could just explain your concerns and why you have them, I'd be more than happy to look into it for you.

NCCW: You obviously can't help me.

MC: Okay, Ma'am, please call back if you can provide me with any relevant information.

I would have liked to follow through on this, but NCCW not only refused to provide her name to Dispatch and I, she also refused to give me other basic info...say, like the address of the alleged dealing, the names of those involved, why she suspected crime was afoot. Now, you'd think that would have been the end of it, right? Come on, haven't you read my blog before? That ain't the way shit goes down in Town. About an hour later, I'm dispatched to this:

"PR from previous detail apparently took matters into her own hands" (not something we in Law Enforcement every really want to hear, by the way) "and went to the house where they are growing marijuana. PR reported she smelled marijuana as she walked by the house. She walked up to the door, knocked, and asked the homeowner if she was selling marijuana."

Sigh. Are you fucking kidding me? I realize I don't work in South Central Los Angeles or anything, but how fucking stupid do you have to be to waltz up to a house where you suspect they are selling drugs and ask them? Are you trying to get shot? This moron is trying to prove Darwin right.

Again, she refused to provide anything but her first name, with the exception of the address. She probably thought she was forcing my hand into action. The reality of the situation was she had originally failed to provide me with any real evidence. You know, the shit I can tell the judge about?

At any rate, I went to the house. I stood on the sidewalk. I smelled the fresh air, the scent of BBQ on a summer day, but you know what I didn't smell? Mari-fucking-juana. NCCW is full of shit. I love when folks provide me with bullshit evidence to manufacture a crime so they will get what they've built up in their mind as satisfaction.

I walked up to the front door (still not smelling weed, by the by) and knocked on the door. A lady in her late 40's or early 50's answered. The conversation went a little something like this:

MC: Hiya. Had any strange conversations in the last 15 minutes or so?

Nice Pot-Growing and/or Compassionate Caregiver Lady: Matter of fact, I have.

MC: Lemme ask you...you growing marijuana here?

NPGCCL (Man, I'm getting carried away with the acronyms): Matter of fact, I am.

MC: You got a 215 card?

NPGCCL: Matter of fact, I do.

MC: Sweet, can I see it?

NPGCCL: Matter of fact, you can.

MC (after seeing here Cannabis Card): You mind if I take a look around?

NPGCCL: Matter of fact, I don't.

MC: Great.

She walked me around the house and into the backyard. It wasn't until I was about 10' from her legally obtained, owned, and cultivated plants that I could finally smell their distinct odor. Both she and her daughter had their cards in order and the legal number of plants.

MC: Thanks for your cooperation. All of these plants are for your personal use only, is that correct?

NPGCCL: Yes, sir.

MC: Fantastic. Listen, someone reported they suspect either you or your son of selling marijuana out of this house.

NPGCCL: Absolutely not.

MC: Lovely. You have a great day.

NPGCCL: You, too.

And that was that. Could she or her son have been selling? Maybe. Hell, probably. But, guess what? I had no evidence and no witnesses. All I had was one paranoid, non-cooperative PR with a death wish who's son was probably hooked into this debacle at some level. Know what else? Without any of those darn specific details, I have no legal leg to stand on, so spark on, NPGCCL.

I called NCCW to explain my findings to her, what with her being so awful concerned about it in the first place.

MC: Good Afternoon, this is MC with the Town PD, again.

NCCW: *Sigh*, I'm busy with my son right now. I don't have time to talk to you. You'll have to call back.

*Click*

Um...wanna bet? For someone so up in arms about the alleged drug dealing occurring in her 'hood, I found it interesting she didn't have time to discuss the result of the investigation.

Why can't you follow simple directions?

I've posted repeatedly about folks' general lack of common sense. There was the lady who decided to follow behind me, unbeknownst to me, while I searched her house for possible intruders. There was the man that did the same thing just a couple of weeks ago. The common theme in those two instances was the possibility of both of them having a sense of victimization (one in her head, the other in reality).

This post, although it has a similar theme, is different because the incident doesn't involve anyone I was directing, well, directly.

Toward the end of my shift a couple weeks ago, there was a major collision. Like Dukes of Hazzard major. I can't post pics because the investigation is on-going (and I'm not involved, thank you, God!) but I can tell you it was the second most destroyed car I've ever seen in person. The engine block was outside the car. Awesome in the truest sense of the word. At any rate, all the excitement is over. All the involved parties are on their ways to various medical-type facilities. Now, we're waiting on tow trucks and clean up.

Myself and a partner were directing traffic. For the sake of discussion, I'll describe the intersection as a freeway onramp/offramp access north/south and a less than major, but more than minor, east/west city street. There is a big ass Fire Truck (Note: Truck, not Engine, HM) blocking just about the entire east/west bound street. The signal lights are still functioning, but it's the middle of the afternoon and there are two uniformed officers in the intersection in full view directing traffic.

My main question is this...why the fuck do everyday, mostly intelligent, normal people, turn into drooling, slack-jawed, dipshits if someone directs them to a different direction than they originally wanted to go? Example:

MC (repeatedly waving/pointing westbound): Keep moving!

Slack Jawed Yokel: But I's a wanna go right!

MC: Well, you can't.

SJY: But I's live up thar.

MC: Interesting, but see that big shiny red truck that is COMPLETELY BLOCKING YOUR RIGHT TURN ACCESS??!?!?! That means you can't go that way, good sir.

SJY (spits chaw): How're I gunna git to m'house?

MC (cracks tooth from clenching jaw): I'm terribly sorry, sir, but there was a major injury collision in that intersection. Thank you ever so much for your expressed sympathy for the involved parties, by the way, awfully thoughtful of you. However, I'm going to have to humbly request one last time, that you TURN LEFT NOW!

My other favorite (read: irritating) habit of directing traffic is the rubber-necker. You know, the moron that has to crane his/her head at some heinous angle to get even a smidge of a glimpse at what they secretly hope is some carnage. This buffoon drives forward, kind of in the direction I indicate, with absolutely no attention paid to that direction.

I actually lost my voice yelling at people. Now, I know some of you will say, "You should get a whistle, MC." There are those that have them, but I like the yelling. Exorcises me demons and makes me feel alive. :p

Look out, North Dakota, the South is on the rise!!!

For my last message to those fine folks in South Dakota, take a gander here. This post is not for them, although, I am proud of you all. You have warmed the cockles of my heart. Yes, the cockles.

Because of the recent surge in traffic, I decided to give good old google analytics a look. I must say, South Dakota, you have performed admirably. You have risen from a sad readership of 3 to a now threatening 28. Please peruse FU, penguin for the remainder of this post, South Dakotians...

Okay, listen up, North Dakota. You're at 32! 32? Yes, 30-f'n 2. Are you really going to take South Dakota's blatant lack of respect for you like that? I thought the North was of much heartier stock! Didn't you win the Civil War for crying out loud? (Don't bother me with facts, people, I'm aware of the geography! I'm trying to make a grander point!)

Fargo, you are by far my strongest supporters. Although, I hated your movie, I support your right to weird accentery. You have struggled on in obvious domination of your state, but now it is time to move up! Assume some leadership, Fargo! There's gotta be some towns within, what, 200 miles of you? Send them a carrier pigeon with the blog address attached! At your next hootenanny, tell your friends! Come on, Fargo, the North depends upon you! Are you going to let those bumpkins in Sioux Falls one-up you? Dammit, you won't stand for it!

(Author's Note: If you are in Sioux Falls and you've read thus far, in obvious defiance of my suggestion not to, well played. The North has much to fear from your wily skills)

I can't honestly tell you why the North/South Dakota has captured my, nay the world's, collective attention. All I know is South Dakota has shown some gumption. They went from dead last in the country to making Rhode Island and Delaware their bitch.

Shame on you New Englanders. Just shame. Don't make me turn my sights on you!

Welcome one and all...

Today finds me nursing a cold and feeling generally less than spectacular. Imagine my surprise when the Wife came in the bedroom, laptop in hand, and showed me this. I was interviewed by the article's author, Eric Sofge, a couple of months ago. He said he was writing an interesting article on the 10 most cited vehicles and he'd read my blog and was curious about my opinion. I was flattered to be asked and happy to help.

Apparently, the article ran today because my hits went through the damn roof! My virtual inbox is virtually overflowing with comments, questions, and general well wishes. I wanted to take the time to thank Eric for including me in his article and also to thank you all for the emails and comments...most of you, that is.

Which leads me to my next point. The first thing you should know about this blog is I moderate comments. Consequently, you folks that are predisposed to leave anonymously hateful comments because that one cop was an asshole to you that one time? Feel free to piss right off. I won't be giving you the satisfaction of a response. I don't have time for your anonymous bullshit. As a matter of fact, since you obviously have a less-than-positive view of me already, for every comment along these veins, I shall go out and write five more tickets in your honor.

For the rest of you lot, rest assured, I'm more than happy to read, post, and respond to as many comments as I can. I've no problem with honest questions and/or criticisms...if you can make me laugh, all the better. As a new reader, please understand a large majority of what I write is intended with a certain sense of humour. It may very well not be your sense of humour, but that's part of what makes the world go round. I prefer the comic stylings of a Craig Shoemaker or a Bob Marley to a Doug Stanhope or a Steven Wright. Different strokes.

Feel free to go back to the beginning to get a better idea of who I am and where I'm coming from. Before you make any snap judgments about my ilk or me specifically, spend some time reading a bit more. You may just find I'm not what you assume at first sight. The moniker doesn't always define the man. You'll also notice I've a few blogs I link to along the right portion of the blog. There's some good stuff in there from both the Cop world, the Dispatch universe and the Medic realm.

Thanks very much for taking the time to read my schlock. I hope you get something out of it and find some much needed laughter in this increasingly downer world.

On a personal note, the Wife and I are expecting a second Kid any day now, so updates may very well be sporadic for a bit. I've worked about 120 hours of OT in the last two months, so I've got a bunch of stories primed and ready.

What ever happened to common courtesy?

This post is applicable to much more than simple LEO related stuff. Let's hearken back to a simpler time, shall we?

Remember the days, no so very long ago, when you would be sitting in traffic and there was another driver waiting to merge in front of you? Remember when you'd slow and wave for them to enter? Remember the fondness you felt when they, having seen your polite invitation to enter, would raise a hand in thanks, maybe even smile? Ah....

What the fuck happened to those people? Where have they all gone? How many times do I have to let people change lanes in front of me, merge, or straight cut me off before I get some damn acknowledgment of the benevolence of my actions? And by me, I mean all of us who do that sort of thing. I'm acting as your agent here, folks!

Let me take a second and rant on you ungrateful pricks that are too busy talking on your goddamn cellphones or texting or reading or just generally have your heads in your ass. Listen, asshole, there's no requirement for me to let you in. The burden is on you to merge, change lanes, or yield until it's safe to do so. If that means you have to wait 30 minutes, tough shit. Bring a book.

So, when I or others of my ilk, raise a friendly hand and say, "Come on in/over, my fellow traveler" how about you raise whichever hand is currently scratching your balls or picking your nose and say a hearty "Well played and thank you, good sir" in response? Would it fucking kill you to return some civility?

With all the current economic, societal, and political bullshit swirling about this rock revolving about the burning star, don't you think you just might positively impact someone's life with a simple hand gesture? One that involves more than one finger, by the way. Don't you watch TV? Haven't you seen those sappy commercials where the nice lady witnesses an act of kindness and turns around and does the same only to be seen by someone else who does the same...and so on and so on? As I've often stated, TV is right. Watch it! Except those jackals in the media...they frequently get it wrong.

My friends at Fire nearly killed me.

Early one morning, I and my band of merry misfits were sitting around the Lineup room having our usual briefing. That is to say, we were probably talking a bunch of shit about each other and cracking each other up.

Then, the ominous Radio voice dispatched us to an accident involving 10 cyclists with bodies strewn about and Fire en route. Shit. Not the way to start the day. Of course, we all respond appropriately and immediately drop everything we were doing and run out the door to our various conveyances.

The scene was about 2-3 miles from the PD. We all arrived about the same time as Fire. The location is a major thoroughfare and a residential side street. Ahead of me (by a few hundred feet), I saw an ambulance come off the side street and make a right onto the major street. That happened to be the very same direction I was riding.

About 600 to 700 feet ahead, on the left, there is another residential side street. I am eastbound in the #1 lane. The ambulance is also eastbound, but in the #2 lane. They are rolling code. I don't recall specifically, but once I went 97 (on scene) and there was no other traffic in the area, I think I cut my lights. The only other traffic were cop cars.

The ambulance driver decided to check out the aforementioned side street ahead on the left. I am pulling up just alongside them. That was about the time the ambulance driver, without signalling, made a lane change to the #1 lane...you know, the lane I was already in, and continued to change lanes to the left turn pocket. This resulted in him pinning me and my little motorcycle between his rapidly approaching and conversely large ambulance and the center median lined with trees that are much denser than the bones in my body. I ended up with a rapidly diminishing distance of about two feet on either side of me.

What to do, what to do. I mean after I more than likely yelled something inappropriate and shit myself, of course.

I opted for go faster. I felt that hitting the brakes left my fate up to the ambulance and probably would have result in getting tagged by the tail end of the beast. Not being one to leave control up to others, I downshifted and shot ahead, clearing the impending scene of the end of my all-too-short life.

I had to give the obligatory "What The Fuck?!?" pose. This, to the uninitiated, is the arms held up at about a 30 degree angle with the shoulders slightly raised. Although the ambulance couldn't see it, I had the face to match. Wasted, really, but I'm nothing if not dedicated to my WTF craft.

It was just one of those things, you know? I didn't go hunt the guy down after all was said and done and yell and carry on. He didn't find me and get in my face and ask me what the hell is wrong with me. I like to think we both just figured, "No autopsy, no foul." We still hadn't found the accident and had bigger fish to fry.

In the future, I'd hope he'd throw a signal on before moving that big 'ol bitch around willy-nilly and I hope to remember to leave my emergency lights on.

I did get one hell of an adrenaline rush out of it, though, I assure you. Oh...and the accident? Never found it. Our best guess is someone called in when they saw a gaggle of cyclists on the side of the road and one of them was changing a tire. Perhaps the others were sitting on the ground to await their cycling buddy to finish his job.

Sure was nice of the anonymous caller to stop and render aid, if not to simply ask, "Hey, is everyone okay?" Would have avoided the whole blessed ordeal of my near death. Thanks, jerk off.

Weekly Question

I know I've been slacking of late and I apologize. I'm still working a ton in anticipation of a glorious six weeks off when Baby MC arrives. Consequently, I'm friggin' exhausted by the end of the day. The end of the week? Forget it. I seem to have forgotten which day the week starts on and which day it ends on.

Enough bitching...

As if politics isn't enough of a hobgoblin these days, here's this weeks question from Mr. J:

So, here’s a Saturday question for you. Can we solve the budget crisis by having the police aggressively enforcing the requirement to have a front license displayed on vehicles? It seems that at least 10 to 20 percent of the cars I see on the road during my commute do not have a front license plate. Many of the car dealerships aren’t even putting license plate holders on the front of new cars. It seems to me that with penalties, assessments and the like cities and counties could raise amoumt of money. What say you?

Mr. J.

Well, Mr. J, I say you've an interesting point. The State of California is indeed in dire need of funds. You are not the first to bring it up. I've actually heard it a few times recently on car stops. Something along the lines of "I understand the State needs money." Now, I don't think your question has the same meaning theirs does, but I think my answer will suffice for both: I don't particularly care about the State's financial situation. My job has nothing to do with fixing their poor money management. My function is to keep the streets of Town safe and reduce the number of both injury and non-injury collisions alike.

For the sake of argument, however, let's look at the violation and the fine for same. 5200 CVC covers the requirement for vehicles to have a front plate. It is a correctable violation. That is to say, if you fix the problem the fine is drastically reduced. Their is still a fine, though. Until recently, the fix-it fine was about $10. I believe now it is $25. I don't have the breakdown in front of me, but if memory serves, I think the percentage of the fine the Town would get is minuscule. The courts get a cut, as does the county and the State. The sheer volume of 5200 CVC cites we as Traffic Officers would have to write to even make a dent in the budget gap is astronomically recockulous....(now those "Is your man gay?" ads are going to pop up again).

The bottom line, at least in my opinion, is it isn't worth it. The money is insignificant and, by contrast, the time and manpower taken to not achieve a goal would be a complete waste.

Not one to be a pessimist, let me conclude with a suggestion that the State's Leadership should pull their collective heads out of their collective asses and take a fucking Econ 101 class and learn how to BALANCE A FUCKING BUDGET! It ain't that hard. I do mine every couple weeks. They have to do it once a damn year.

I'll stop before I am sufficiently planted atop my sturdy soapbox....

Speedy Pizza? I'd like a Pepperoni and Ticket pizza.

Earlier this week, I was sitting in one of my usual spots enjoying a nice mild August day. I looked to my right and saw a black Mitsubishi headed my way. Looked like it was going a wee bit faster than the 35 MPH it should have been going. And, to be fair, I heard the stereo about the time I saw the car.

Time to make a new acquaintance. (I've given up on calling them friends. For some reason, I just don't think it was accurate. I'm nothing if not accurate.)

As I pulled in behind the Mitsubishi at a red signal light, I radioed the stop in, but have yet to light it up. I saw the driver stick his hand out and flick his cigarette. Ah, yes, the perennial favorite. The light turned green and I lit the car up. It yielded without fanfare (just once, some fanfare would be cool...can't you people whip up some fucking ticker tape?). The contact went a little something like this...

MC: Afternoon. You know why I stopped you?

Ignorant Teenage Pizza Delivery Guy: Uh, no.

MC: Three things, actually. One, do you know what the speed limit is on this street?

ITPDG (I gotta work on shortening names up, that's a bitch to type): No.

MC: It's 35. Do you know how fast you were going?

ITPDG: Not really.

MC: 50.

ITPDG: Oh.

MC: Indeed. Second, your stereo was too loud. If I can hear it from more than 50' away, it's too loud.

ITPDG: Sorry.

MC: No worries. Lastly, what's with dropping your cigarette ash? What happens when that lit ash blows into this nice man's front yard and starts a fire that burns down his house?

ITPDG: Oh, man, I didn't realize that.

MC: Okay. I need your license, blah, blah, blah.

As I was writing the ticket for speed, I got to his date of birth. He's 17. What's the legal age for having tobacco products? 18. D'oh!

MC (having returned to the car): Okay. This is a citation for speed and for possession of tobacco (a misdemeanor...but still heard in the same department as traffic court).

ITPDG: I don't even smoke! Some guys at work gave them to me.

MC: Well, those guys aren't your friends. Besides, don't you know those things will kill you?

ITPDG (whilst signing): Can I ask you a question?

MC: Absolutely.

ITPDG: This may sound weird, but, um, my boss, the owner of Speedy Pizza told us we could drive as fast as we want and no cops would stop us.

No, no you read that right. "We could drive as fast as we want and no cop would stop us."

I burst out laughing. Seriously.

MC: I'm sorry, man. I'm not laughing at you, but that's funny. Do you think maybe he's trying to make a buck by making sure his pizzas get delivered on time?

ITPDG: Yeah, I guess so. Do you think maybe you could stop by and tell him that's not true?

MC: Tell you what, why don't you pass along the message for me.

It's not like the kid was delivering coffee and donuts! No wait, then every cop would be stopping him. (Insert rimshot and cymbal crash) I'm not above bringing back old school cop schtick, people.

Weekly Question

This question comes from the great state of Texas. Roy had an interesting question about freeway etiquette during a funeral procession.

I have a question. It has to do with funeral processions. I know that you should yield whenever you encounter one on a surface road or street, or at a crossing intersection. But what is the the proper behavior when you encounter one on a 4 lane divided highway such as an interstate.

Two incidents happened to me recently and I'm not sure I did the right thing. The first one, I was exiting the interstate on a collector-director type ramp where two traffic lanes, one coming from the left and one coming from the right, merged into one lane just before dumping out onto a major commercial strip highway. I was coming from the left and a line of very slow traffic was merging in from the right. I merged into that line of slow traffic *before* I realized it was a funeral procession. As soon as I realized that, I turned off at the very next intersection and waited for it to pass on by. Should I have done anything different? If so, what?

The second one happened when I was driving out on the open interstate. Suddenly *both* lanes slowed to about 35 mph. (It was a 70 mph zone.) I was stuck there in a line with other cars and trucks, fuming and wondering what the rolling roadblock was all about, when I discovered that there was a funeral procession in the right hand lane. There was one car in the left lane up there about even with the hearse that would not pass the procession and he was holding everyone else back. At first, I thought that car might have been from the funeral home. But it had no special markings or lights and when the procession finally exited the highway, that car sped up and kept going. Now, I thought it was okay to pass a funeral procession on a 4 lane divided highway, but I'm not so sure now. What say you, Motor Cop. Pass or no pass? What are the rules.

Either way, and with all due respect for the deceased, it sure was a pain to have to follow that funeral all the way to their destination exit. (Indeed, by the time the procession finally exited, I felt like I was now part of the family and maybe should have followed it off the interstate and on to the cemetery.)

I gotta say, Roy, no one has ever asked me anything remotely close to this. I don't think there are any hard and fast rules about funeral processions. Although, if there are, I'm sure some of your fellow readers will be quick to enlighten both of us.

That being said, though, I think I can rely on common sense. In your first example, I think you did exactly what you should have done. Having realized you had inadvertently joined the procession, you excused yourself out of it. No harm done, in my opinion. In your second example, I have to fall back on my personal experience in both being a part of and leading processions.

I have been in some processions that have been through rush hour traffic and major interchanges. Processions kind of have a life of their own (pun not intended). What I mean to say is that if we're in the #1 lane and we need to get to the #4 lane, odds are it won't be a smooth transition. Motors come in handy because we're more mobile and can help clear lanes if need be. To the best of my knowledge, though, there's no law requiring driver's to not pass or yield.

In my experience, most funerals involving police or fire are well publicized and people know what they're looking at. A lot of folks will simply pull over, stop, and watch. Some will wave and say, "Thank You." It's very moving.

If you're talking about non-LEO or fire related funerals, I'm relatively sure there's even less that the vehicle code has to say. Now, I obviously can't speak for TX law, but I feel relatively confident saying common sense and common courtesy should do you right. Perhaps Texas Ghostrider has more knowledge than I.

A chance to win a beautiful bike...

I received the following email from Nikki Romans, widow of Sgt. Ervin Romans, the OPD Sergeant killed back in March:

Hello ...

I'm Nikki Romans (widow of Sgt. Ervin Romans, OaklandPD)

I'm holding a raffle for Erv's beautiful Harley Davidson Motorcycle in October, please see link below for flyer and ticket info ...

http://www.sgtromansride.org/raffle.html

...if you could PLEASE pass this link on to your fellow co-workers,friends and/or a motorcycle enthusiast in asking them for their support in helping ... I would so greatly appreciate it ... MY BEST and THANK YOU !

Sending Peace, Light & Love ...

~Nikki Romans

Please feel free to click the above link and buy a ticket if you are so moved.

Peace, Light & Love, indeed...

Cheers.

The First Responder's Answer to a Supergroup

Remember when Tommy Shaw of Styx, Jack Blades of Night Ranger, and Ted Nugent of, well, Ted Nugent formed Damn Yankees?

No?

Okay....how about when former GnR members Slash, Duff McKagan, and Matt Sorum, and STP frontman and erstwhile (supposedly) druggie Scott Weiland formed Velvet Revolver?

That a little more current for you? Well, I present to you the newest Supergroup on the scene. At least a First Responder's answer to it...

MC and HM joined forces! The world will now know a whole new kind of Police/EMS service!

Disclaimer: Political-esque post to follow...you've been warned.

Remember the good 'ol days when people, particularly those in Power, let's say politicians, would have to be very careful what they say?

Welcome to Change, my friends.

Our President had to do some pretty decent backpedaling this past week after wildly over-stepping his bounds in regards to the arrest of Henry Louis Gates, Jr, a Harvard professor and apparent friend of President Obama. I'm sure by now the majority of you are familiar with the incident that occurred on July 17th of this year in Cambridge, MA. Here's the report generated by Sgt. Crowley along with the supplemental report by Ofr. Figueroa.

Here is the audio (via YouTube) of the 911 call....and by the way, you dispatchers out there, is it just me or does this dispatcher suck?

Here's the question posed by a reporter and President Obama's remarks. Pay particular attention to the actual question...

What does that say about race relations in America? Well, Ms Sweet, exactly nothing. This incident wasn't remotely racial until Professor Gates made it one. What the public is either not privy to or doesn't really care to know is that there are a procedures in place for the police with regard to how to properly handle a call of this type. Identifying all involved parties is at or near the top of the list. Refusal to identify yourself and having an attitude is a huge red flag for us. I don't care what color you are, how old you are, what your socioeconomic status is. I just want to know your name.

What has this world come to? Well, folks, it's the same old world it always was. If society tries to move past racism, someone or other will pull us right back in. It runs the gamut. Insert race here. Every race is guilty of it. Yes, even Canadians. (I'm aware that's not a race, but it's been awhile since I gave America's Hat a hard time...much love, Canada!)

Here's what really sticks in my craw, though. First, how are we as police officers supposed to respond now to what, by all accounts, appeared to be a possible in progress residential burglary? Do we need to staff our departments with every shade under the rainbow in case the possible suspects in a call are of Inuit descent? What's that, you say? Irish suspect? Get O'Shaugnessey over here. But make sure to check the Irish suspect's religion first! Wouldn't want a Catholic suspect meeting up with a Protestant copper!

Secondly, what the hell was President Obama thinking? He had little knowledge of the facts of the incident; however, since "Skip" Gates is a friend, the stupidity lies solely in the lap of Sgt. Crowley? This is the man that makes Decisions. Note the upper case...we're talking globally impacting Decisions. In this case, he, in my opinion, went off half cocked without taking the time to look into the incident first.

Thirdly (and this has been a bone of contention around the PD this week), would I (or you) agree to a meeting at the White House over a beer? Um....hell no. If I were in Sgt. Crowley's position, the only way I'd go is if I was ordered. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to visit the White House and meet the President. What a great honor! However, under these circumstances, you wouldn't catch me dead there. Here's why. I don't know if Professor Gates is pursuing any litigious activity. Ain't no way in hell I'm making any statements to the man. Also, if I were in Sgt. Crowley's shoes, I would be of the opinion that I would only be giving validity to claims of racism where none existed.

The bottom line is President Obama, in my opinion, had no business saying anything about this incident until he was more properly educated. And honestly, even after that, I'm not so sure his commentary would be beneficial. How's about a nice political "the matter is being looked into."

I find the entire issue distasteful and f'n irritating. Having read the report, it appears to me that Professor Gates vastly over-reacted and haphazardly (at best) threw out the race card. Unfortunately, everyone, racism exists. It always will. I'm not saying it's justified/proper/appropriate and I'm not saying I advocate it by any stretch. I think it's naive to think we can alter the thinking of every man, woman, and child with regard to this issue.

All I can do to combat it in my backyard is to treat everyone the same, regardless of whatever label and/or category you want to ascribe to a given individual.

Shame on you, Professor Gates. And you, President Obama. Both of you should have known better. At least knee jerk reactions are color blind.