On a Roll

I'm in the mood to write, tonight. The problem is, I can't pick a topic. I could go political and talk about how much the government is screwing the American people. I could talk about religion. I could rant, some more, about my douchebag ex.

Meh.

Oh, I know!

Cops.

No, not the TV show.

I like cops. I grew up around bikers and truckers, in a trailer park full of alcoholics and degenerates, but I like cops. (and firemen, and military boys...what? I'm not blind!)

In all the times I've been contacted by the police, I've come across maybe two assholes in the bunch.

I think my earliest memory of Police, and probably when I learned that they are just as human as the rest of us, comes from when I was about 4 or 5.

We lived in a trailer park, at the edge of a huge field, with a Federal Maximum Security Prison, on the opposite edge. (Florence, CO, if anyone cares.) There was a break-out. It happens more than you'd think, considering the huge fences and dozens of armed guards patrolling the perimeter.

Anyway!

There was a break-out, at the BOP Supermax. I didn't really understand what was going on, except that mom had all the windows closed and I wasn't allowed to go outside. (Not fair!) There was a knock at the door. S.W.A.T. was on the other side. He told Mom that he had to check the house, because the inmate was last seen headed our direction. We were cleared, obviously.

The guys are all congregation in our driveway, after sweeping the park, and one of them yells. The inmate was spotted in the field behind the house. SWAT scatters and starts hauling ass toward the field, jumping the front fence, running through the yard, then jumping the back fence. My mom rushes outside to warn them:

"Watch out for the-"  SPLASH! "-ditch behind the house..."

I giggled. Mom tried not to, but it was hard, seeing a man in full riot gear, covered head-to-toe, in mud, dripping wet and looking absolutely...miserable. Red clay mud. Sticky, thick, gets-into-every-pore kind of mud. (Awesome Mud Pie mud!) The LT is leaning against the back of the trailer, laughing his ass off. The Mud Man crawls out of the ditch, and mom manages to hand him a rag between her giggles.

"That'll teach you to be aware your surroundings," Mom tells him, causing the LT to laugh even harder.

I got a kick out of seeing it. I was a kid. What kid wouldn't laugh when someone fell into the mud? What strikes me now, a few years later, is that my mother gave him hell for it. She didn't hide her laughter for long, and as she helped him get cleaned up, she poked fun at him, just like she would have if it were me, or my brother, or anyone else who had fallen into the irrigation ditch behind the house.

She set the standard that I try to follow, today.

I noticed, a few weeks back, that one of our local cops got a new car. So, instead of simply acknowledging it to myself, I said, "Hey! You got the new one, huh?" He kind of grins like he's really excited about it and nods.

"You got the new fancy LED lights, too?" Another nod and smile.

"Can I see em?" I ask with a big grin, and just like a little kid showing off a new toy, turns on the lights and launches into explaining why they are as cool as they are.

See? People, just like us.

I have a lot friends who hate cops. Most of them have done jail time. There are a lot of people who are afraid of cops, which I don't understand. They're doing their job, getting paid far less than they should, to protect people, and their community. They get blamed for bullshit laws. Well, here's the thing: they don't write the laws, they simply enforce them. Hence the title: Law Enforcement Officer.

You have a problem with the laws, take it up with your Congressmen.

They're the real assholes.