Thursday, December 9, 2010

The Crossover - Episode 6 Return of the Medic


This episode finds the tables turned and I'm at the helm lobbing some inquiry volleys at Happy. For those of you in the LEO world that have been wondering just what Happy is truly all about, this is for you!

In other news, if you've got access to iTunes and want to subscribe to our Crossover podcast, use http://happymedic.com/category/the-crossover-podcast/feed/ whilst in the podcast section of iTunes! We're (and by 'we' I mean Happy...I'm techno-challenged) are working on some other podcast related tweeks, so stay tuned!

On with the show...


Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Good Parenting

Any time I do anything remotely not stupid, my Mom says, "It must be good parenting!" Who am I to quibble?

Today, I stopped a good example. I was sitting in my pond du jour when I saw a speeding vehicle. I pulled it over and walked up to talk to the obviously young driver. He had his hands on the wheel. His window was rolled up. He looked a bit like he was going to have an attitude on him. I mimed (not trapped in a box) that I wanted him to roll the window down. My first thought was, "Cop's kid."

MC: Do you know why I stopped you?
GA (Good Apple): No, sir.
MC: Do you know what the speed limit is back there?
GA: 35, sir.
MC: Do you know how fast you were going?
GA: Not much more than 40, sir.
MC: 49. Do you have your license, registration and insurance?
GA: Yes, sir. I'm very sorry, sir.
MC: What does your Dad do for a living?
GA: He's in construction.
MC: Have you ever had a ticket before?
GA: I've never been pulled over, sir.
MC: Okay...hang tight...I'll be right back.

I ran him out and sure enough, he had a clean record. I had him dead to rights for speed.

MC: So, you've never been pulled over before?
GA: No, sir.
MC: I'm going to give you a break. Interested in why?
GA: Yes, sir.
MC: I can count on one hand how many times I've stopped someone as polite as you. You did everything you were supposed to do. You kept your hands on the wheel. That helps put me at ease. It's a smart thing to do for both of our safety. I'm not sure who taught you how to handle being stopped by the police, but I assume it was your folks. I won't tell them about this little incident if you don't, but you seem like a pretty honest kid. If you end up telling them, do me a favor and tell them I appreciate the good job they did with you.
GA: I'll tell them, sir. Thank you!

So to Mr. and Mrs. Random I say, "Well done! Great job in raising what appears to be a polite, honest, and well adjusted young man!"

That's my Good Apple Award, pictured above, by the way. Creativity abounds!

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

You want me to hold on to what, now?

Dear Other States in the Union that Aren't CA,

Please don't laugh at what follows.

Sincerely,

MC
With that out of the way, let's talk about Prop. 215. What's that? It's California's (I swear I'm not making this up) Compassionate User act of 1996. Could they have come up with a more touchy-feely name? Oh, that's right, I live in California. We're not called the Left Coast for nothing.

Now, I realize both of our calendars say 2010 and if my math holds up, this law was enacted 14 years ago. So, why do I bother bringing it up now? Because of a little situation we ran into a few weeks back. We had an officer make a stop for some traffic violation. One thing led to another and the smell of weed permeated the air. A legal search was conducted. A significant amount of marijuana was located. The driver claimed to have a medical marijuana card. For whatever reason, he was separated from his ganja.

Here's where things get silly. We (and by "we" I mean the PO-lice) had to take his weed for safekeeping. You read that correctly. He didn't have his card with him. He had no way to prove he was legal. We just sort of took his word for it. I mean how bad a guy could he be rolling around with a few ounces of weed in his car. At night. From party to party. Compassionate care giver, my ass. Greedy dope dealer seems a bit more accurate to me.
Know what safekeeping means? It means we held on to it, he came back to pick it up, and we gave it back to him! Unreal...

I'm not going to get into a philosophical discussion about the morality/legality/dangers/lack of dangers of using marijuana. What I have a problem with is two-fold:

First, I am not your drug safekeeping haven. You want your weed back? Contact the D.A.'s office about getting it back when they inevitably drop the charges I arrested you for. If you are not in compliance with what 215 says, I'm going to arrest you for it. End of story.

Second, I don't believe anyone under the age of 20 has any of the following (with great exception): chronic pain, insomnia, back pain, anxiety, knee pain. In my humble opinion, those are easy catch-alls that sketchy Docs use when they write bullshit scrips for these chuckleheads. I'll grant you the occasional "I survived a heinous crash when I was 17 and now I have to sleep in a body cast every night" reason. Okay?

But, I'm not buying that 19 year old Johnny is so overwhelmed with anxiety and just can't get his beauty rest so he has to hit the spliff to get some shut eye. I've had my bouts with insomnia and anxiety in the past...didn't resort to drugs (legal or otherwise) to muddle through.

Whatever happened to strength of character? Whatever happened to personal fortitude? Unfortunately, Society as a whole is raising a bunch of snot-nosed, self-entitled, medicated, ingrates that Life is going to ever so gently gore when they hit the land of reality. Kind of reminds me of my favorite commercial right now:




Couldn't have said it better myself. I salute you, R. Lee Ermey!

Before you get your collective knickers in a bunch, let me wrap up by saying I get the reason behind 215. What pisses me off is those amongst the population that either a) use it as a crutch or b) use it as a legal loophole to deal weed.

So, there you have it, folks. In other states, weed will land you in prison. In CA, the cops hang on to it for you. Heaven forbid we deprive you of your voter enacted rights!

Monday, December 6, 2010

A Feminine Touch

Careful...I know what you were thinking...

But, I'm talking about female cops. Not a group the blogging community, at least in my experience, is used to hearing from. That's right...all too often, we knuckle-draggers forget about the "fairer" sex. Momma Fargo just may have something to say about that. From her site, "The Boogie Man is My Friend"..."I am a 40-something female police officer and mother workin' in a 'big city' in the west just doing my little part to save America."

I've seen spouse blogs before and there are some good ones. Mrs. Fuzz leads the pack, in my opinion. However, I can't recall a female police officer's blog. (I'm sure there are others and I'm sure I'm going to take some crap over not mentioning it before...especially if they've been mentioned to me before. Blame the Y-Chromosome, ladies.) So, I send a heart-felt "Howdy" out to Momma Fargo. I know you've been circling the interweb machines for a while and I'm glad to have made your acquaintance...in a totally anonymous, we've never actually met, kind of way. Isn't the internet fun?

Thanks to Suz for pointing me in Momma's direction. I've added both Momma and Mrs. Fuzz to the sidebar. Be sure to check back often...they're some busy bloggers!

Sunday, December 5, 2010

The Crossover - Episode 5 MC and/or HM Strikes Back


In this episode we talk about a bunch of stuff. If you listen to it, you will learn something. Not necessarily about either EMS or police work. Maybe you'll learn that it's best that MC not act. Maybe you'll learn that HM has a man crush on MC. One never can tell.

And so, with out further blippity bloop (man, I phoned this intro in, huh?)...The Crossover!




As per usual, my thanks to Happy for his amusing and always entertaining opening/closing to the show! Well done, sir! On our next episode we'll learn a little something about what makes Happy tick. Why is he so damn happy? What in the world is EMS 2.0? What is a Setla? Does a Geordie trump the aforementioned Setla?

Tune in next time, faithful listeners!

Friday, December 3, 2010

Can You Make it a Light One?

Apparently, I am the light beer of the traffic enforcement world. The other day, I was sitting on a stop sign waiting for my date with destiny when lo and behold, there it went...at 40 MPH through the stop sign.

As my rear wheels spun like mad on the pile of leaves I was parked on (gotta love Fall), I threw on the emergency lights and lit around the corner. When I was about halfway through the turn, I saw the offending vehicle waiting patiently down the street about 150' parked on the side of the road waiting on my arrival.

How very kind, indeed!

I pulled in behind the car, got out, and contacted the driver. Before I said word one...

LAMB (Lady Apparently Mistaking me for a Bartender...a stretch? Perhaps.): I missed it, didn't I?
MC: Oh, most assuredly ma'am.
LAMB: Do you have to give me a ticket?
MC: Ma'am, you just shot through a stop sign at 40 mph like it wasn't even there. Yes, I'm going to issue you a citation today.
LAMB: Can you make it a light one?

**A light one? What's a light one? Lady, you're not ordering one of those weak excuses for a beer, here. I'm not your local affable watering hole mate, I'm a police officer.**

MC: I'm sorry, ma'am. A light one? Those don't exist. It's pretty black and white out here. You either get one or you don't. There isn't a scale from which I can draw.

I chuckled all the way back to the car (I was covering a beat) and wrote out the ticket. One of the things I love about traffic stops is the frequent use of "but I've never had a ticket before" or "I haven't had a ticket in over ten years".

Here's the thing, kids...you are not Obi Wan. So, put your hand down. Those are indeed the droids I'm looking for. So, knock off your lame attempts at Jedi mind tricks. You're embarrassing yourself (and the entire Galaxy, by the way). Using those phrases does not equate to getting out of a ticket. Besides, I'm more skilled in the Jedi arts than you. Want an example?

I once made a Michigan fan (dig that, Setla!) yell, "Go Irish!" at the top of his lungs to get out of a ticket. And he did it with a smile on his face....

I love my job.

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Death

It's not something any of us in either law enforcement or EMS are happy to have to handle. But it happens. With all too much regularity. As a cop, I get the "Fire is en route for a possible 10-55" (10 code for dead body). We always pray that a) Fire beats us to the call and b) the 10-55 either isn't or hasn't quite given up the ghost, as it were, and Fire will transport.

I've not always been lucky enough to have those occur and I've had my share of deaths to document, kin to notify, and corpses to babysit while waiting on the coroner or funeral home. I'm not a fan of bodies. I've seen too many horror movies and read too many Stephen King novels to be ultra comfy with the recently departed. Straight creeps me out. I will say that I have my Zombie Apocalypse plan in hand and ready to activate at any given moment. Sadly, that plan is more set out than my "what happens when the Big One hits" earthquake plan. Such is my life...

I know the soul is gone. I know it's merely a shell. I know it isn't going to suddenly reanimate and attempt to do me harm...but don't think for a second that isn't what is rocketing through my mind!

What truly amazes me is the tenderness with which the bereaved handle it. To them, it's not a corpse. It's Uncle George. It's Grammy Sue. It's Pops. It's their sister, Janie. I've had the experience myself when my grandparents passed away. I felt neither fear nor a moment's hesitation in putting my hands on theirs. I felt no queasy feeling flitter away in my insides about kissing their foreheads one last time.

The last death I had to deal with was one in which the soon-to-be-never-will-be ex showed up as the ex was the only family in the area. The compassion on the ex's face was obvious and regret seemed to have been painted on like that morning's rouge. The ex wasn't concerned about the past, but simply that the deceased was finally at peace after a lifetime's battles.

While your Aunt Ginnie is watching from (hopefully) above, simply know that your show of affections are lost on neither her nor me.

I'm truly sorry for your loss and hope you can find the peace your relative/friend/loved one now knows....