Former Glory

Ah cool weather. It has been low 50s at night with highs never leaving the low 70s. The fall weather makes me miss my previous home. I love my life here and my job is unparalleled in excitement, but I find myself every Autumn longing for the deep conversations with old friends. These were conversations which stretched the mind and soul. Honest, paradigm-shifting, blunt, raw, talks. The dialogues far exceeded the present ones of fantasy football results, work, beer saturated party tales and sexcapades. I desire well-read company. I desire smarter companions. I desire adults that act and think like adults.

Beefers

Try pushing this motley crew up more than a couple of hills while running.

Microwave Harassment

I have had an ongoing interaction with a woman who believes she has been the victim of covert government-inflicted microwave harassment for the past six years. "They," as she calls them, sneak into her home undetected approximately one or more times per week to steal items, move items, or return certain previously stolen items. Once each of these occurrences is discovered, she calls 911 to file a report. She lives directly in the center of my patrol area, which consequently results in nine out of every ten reports becoming my responsibility. I have been called out for pea-sized dents in exterior eves of her house, two cans of missing thirty-cent cat food, living room chairs moved 3 inches to the south of their usual position, missing files of previous police reports, a weed-eater moved from one side of the garage to another, and mysterious acorns appearing in her yard about this time every year (this last mystery was solved easy enough by pointing out the towering acorn tree in her neighbors front lawn). Acorn-type complaints have earned this lady a title of what we like to call Signal 20 - aka coo coo for cocoa puffs. Unfortunately, she has also earned a tremendous amount of disrespect from most of my colleagues. I say unfortunate because this lady is extremely intelligent. Her home is laden with books. And not fluff books, which can be found in the overwhelming majority of homes with books. I would dare say a sad approximation is only one out of one hundred homes I visit daily contains a significant amount of real, well-worn, well-read, fully digested books. My Signal 20 has books. Ceiling to floor shelves stacked with books. The topics include: advanced theoretical physics, microbiology, bacteriology, economics, calculus, statistics, theology, organic chemistry, cooking, history books covering every major war and event in history, quantum mechanics, and one whole bookcase of sheet music beside the high polished baby grand piano in her living room. These along with a handful of conversations I have had with her lead me to conclude she is significantly smarter than everyone of my work peers. So, what if she is right? Maybe "they" are after us and she is one of the only people who notices.

More Money

If I had more money...

I would just spend it.

Only Raining Outside

It is pouring! The rain has been relentless the past 2 days. For some, rain is calming, but in my line of work rain brings chaos. Yesterday at work on evening shift, in my district alone, there were 2 shootings, 8-10 major accidents (and about 4 were super major), an armed bank robbery, 2 suicide attempts, a couple of big gang fights, an innumerable number of minor accidents and assist motorist calls, and all of these were on top of the plethora of normal calls for service.It was a miserable night to be a cop.

I worked on the front desk!

Best luck ever! And it got even better. While half asleep at the desk, I decided to venture over to the vending machine to get a small candy bar to alleviate my hunger pangs due to the fact I had forgotten to eat lunch before leaving home. I inserted my dollar and just as I was about to select B-2 (Snickers) my eyes beheld something glorious down on F-8... a package of chocolate Zingers had hung up and was daintily dangling from the spiralled dispenser. Maybe, just maybe, I thought, I can score a two-fer!

F...8... Package one dropped, then....package two hung on the dispenser for an agonizing second and BOOOM! Two for the price of one!

No, I did not eat both. I gave one pack to my partner who came up to the desk to dry out and finish an accident report. While he was there a community watch group came in for a meeting and brought us chocolate chip cookies and PUNCH! And it was my Friday!

All these things and more I gleefully shared with my partners who were slogging through the pouring rain. I was the happiest hated man in the city.

Can't We All Just Get Along

Stairs Done