Monday, January 26, 2015

Call Dr. Spock

Why in hell would you call the police because your 13-year-old son won't get out of bed for school?

First of all, I'm not coming to your house. I'll call you on the phone, because I have to. I'll politely inform you that you don't have a police problem, you have a parenting problem. I'll then explain how the law allows you to do pretty much whatever you need to do, short of abuse, to control your kids.

Secretly, I'm thinking that you're a weak-kneed jackass - someone who's let her kid become a lazy, smart-mouthed, disrespectful punk, and who's now afraid to put her foot down. Let me suggest that you immediately cut off all amenities to this kid other than food, clothing, and shelter. I guarantee that, without an allowance, a car, a cell phone, an mp3 player, or a computer, little Jimmy will be jogging to school with a smile on his face in about a week.

Friday, January 23, 2015

Hell On Wheels

When somebody cuts you off in traffic, don't start following the guy all over town, get the cops on the phone, and refuse to stop following the until a cop catches up to you and  pulls the guy over. I can assure you, no cop is going to tear madly through the city to do a traffic stop on someone you say cut you off. In fact, the other guy is probably also calling the cops, reporting that some crazy bastard is chasing him all over town, screaming and gesturing at him, and he has no idea why. And in the end, you can't write him a ticket anyway because you're not a cop, and we can't write him one either because we weren't there when whatever really happened happened.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

See If You Can Make Me Even Madder

Hey, jackass. I don't care if you are the building manager for this sty you call an apartment building. When I'm tending to your elderly tenant who fell in the bathroom and broke his hip, and I'm asking him for information that I can radio to the responding ambulance, and you stand there with a fucking beer in your hand and keep telling him, "Plead the Fifth, man, your best bet is to plead the Fifth", I'm kicking your stupid ass out. You're lucky I don't lock you up for interfering with an emergency call.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Where To Evacuate

While waiting for Dr. St. Francis of Assisi to clear my latest psycho for jail, I spied this sign taped to a file drawer near the nurses' station. After I thought about it for a minute, it struck me as pretty funny:

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

Are You 10 Years Old Or What?

I want all adults to stop asking me:

"What kind of gun is that?"

"Is that a Taser?"

"Have you ever shot anybody?"

"Do cops really eat a lot of doughnuts?"

And while you're at it, stop yelling, "I didn't do it!", or pointing at your friend and yelling "S/He did it!", with that grin on you face like you're the first one to ever think of it every time I walk in.

Monday, January 19, 2015

The Password Is.....

As someone who literally built his first computer from a kit (Heathkit-Zenith 8088), but who also still has a flip-phone that pretty much just makes phone calls, I'm conflicted about technology. I like what it can do, I just don't like doing it. That said, my entire work life is run by machines. And like every good machine, each has to have its own password.

First, I have to log into Windows to get onto my in-car computer. Once in Windows, I have to log into the program that runs my in-car camera. This one is easy - it's the same as my Windows password. But my Windows password changes every few months, and my camera password doesn't, so they get more and more out of synch as time goes on. So far, I've been able to remember which is which.

Then I have to log into the program in which I do accident reports and traffic tickets. This is a different password altogether, but it's one that never changes, so not so bad. Then I have to log into the program the I use for the bulk of my work - dispatch info on the run I'm on, reports, people checks, vehicle checks, etc. This is yet another password, but also one that never changes. Next, I have to log into the program in which I log evidence. This is the same password as my reports/runs/people/vehicles password. So far, so good.

But then I also have to log into programs that allow me to access state driver, vehicle, and criminal history records. You would think that I was logging into the launch codes for ICBMs aimed at China. I have to change my password about every three months. And each time, I have to meet a mind-boggling set of criteria. It goes something like this:

Please reset your password. Remember, your password must adhere to all of the following guidelines:

1. Your password must be between 16 and 42 characters in length.
2. Your password must contain at least 1 upper case letter, 2 lower case letters, 5 numerals, 7 punctuation marks, a diacritical mark, a polynomial equation, and a smiley face.
3. Your password cannot be similar in any way, or even look or sound like, any other password ever used by anyone.
4. Your password cannot contain any part of your name or the name of anyone else in the galaxy.
5. Your password must use the Runic alphabet.

So, I wind up stringing together my dogs' names in order of age (highest to lowest), my wife's bra size, Grover Cleveland's real first name, the formula for the gravitational force on Saturn, the diameter of FDR's wheelchair wheels, and an antonym for ablutomania. I write it down on a slip of paper, which immediately falls down into the space between the driver's seat and the radio/lights/siren/computer console of my squad car.

I haven't accessed a driver, vehicle, or criminal history in at least 12 years.

Friday, January 16, 2015

Foam In, Foam Out

When am I going to learn? My latest DUI turns out to have Hep-C. Of course, I find this out only after handling the vac tube full of his blood. Without gloves on. When am I going to learn?