Time to rant

All this week the news has been about the scumbag (and scumbags everywhere should be insulted) Phil Garrido and his scumbag wife who kidnapped Jaycee Dugard and held her prisoner for 18yrs, after repeatedly raping her.  The hue and cry is how could this convicted rapist be let out, how could he do such a thing, why why why didn't the system work etc. etc.   

Well folks, it's all summed up in one word--liberalism.  Liberalism affords creeps like this "rights".  Our criminal justice system investigates his crimes against society, sentences him, lets him out on parole, re arrests him, pays for his lawyer, convicts him again, pays for his appeals lawyers, and on and on.  I'm sure he'll be ordered for "psychiatric evaluation" pre-trial, so we can make sure he's 'sane'.  The likes of the ACLU will watch and make sure his civil rights aren't violated at all.  If society was serious about dealing with creeps like Garrido, they all would have life sentences or the death penalty.  Of course the death penalty is meaningless because it is never carried out.  Why isn't it carried out?  Liberalism.  Liberal lawyers who became liberal judges allow these cases to be dragged on and on for decades, while all the lawyers line their pockets with state money the entire time.  If the State of California executed death row inmate every say, Wednesday at noon, every week, there would be an outcry of nuclear proportions about how archaic our society is.  Yet, at the rate of only 1 per week, it would be the year 2023 before all the PRESENT DAY death row inmates were executed, nevermind the scumbags we would add to death row between now and then.  

Yet, 95% of Americans have their head in the sand.  They continuously elect left wing socialists into power, and have been doing so for 30 years, with only rare exceptions.  So the hue and cry of the fate of poor Jaycee Dugard is indirectly hypocritical, because we brought it on ourselves.

I hope this poor young woman can have something of a normal life, and that the leeches in the media leave her the hell alone!

Public Service Announcement!!

Okay, all of you, as soon as you're done reading this, I want you to find out the direct line phone number to the dispatch center of the police department or sheriff's dept. where you live, and program it into your phone.  Of course, you will have to know where you live to be able to do this, but I have faith in most of you.  Then, do it for where you work as well, and where you hang out.  If you work and live in the same city, you don't have to do it twice (just thought I'd mention that in case of confusion).  

Reason?  In California, and probably other states as well, if you call 911 from your cell phone the call gets directed to the regional dispatch center of CHP.   You may be put on hold due to call volume, then all the questions get asked.   Let's say you just witnessed, or worse, were involved in a major injury collision in the town of Burg, and your arm is cut off and you want someone to come help you, because you have come to the conclusion that although having one arm is pretty cool, you'd rather have two, because now how the heck would you tie your shoes?

So you call 911:

911:  You have reached the California Highway Patrol.  Please be ready to state your emergency and location (2 minutes of elevator music and safety messages)

You:  drip, drip, drip,  I hope this direct pressure thing really works.

911: CHP, what is your emergency?

You: some illegal immigrant ran a red light and we crashed

911: are there any injuries?

You: Yeah you could say that

911: what kind of injuries?

You: my arm is cut off

911: where are you?

You: right here

911: no, what city are you in?

You: oh, yeah, sorry, I was getting dizzy.  I'm in Burg.

911: hang on a minute.  chp calls burg dispatch.....ring ring ring

Burg 911:  Burg PD, what is your emergency?

chp911:  Hi Sally!  This is Cindy!  How are you today?  Are you going to the dispatcher luncheon next week?

Burg911:  Cindy!  (squeal) I'm great how are you?  Yes I'm going.  Say are you still dating that fireman from Engine48?

chp911: hee hee, I did for a while but his hose wasn't long enough if you know what I mean (giggle), we have a new rookie here, I'm planning on showing him the Cindy special.  Say I need your recipe for spinach dip.  Do you still have it?

Burg911: I know what you mean.  Those firefighters look hunky but it's all show, always bragging about their hoses but they could never put out my fire (giggle).  Which recipe again?

chp911: the spinach dip one.

Burg911: yes I still have it, is that why you called?

chp911:  ummm, oh yeah!  That's right, there's a major injury accident in Burg.  I'll get you the caller, she's on hold.  Love ya girl!

Burg911:  you too hon!

Burg911: Burg PD, what is your emergency?

You: I'm....in....a.....car accident.

Burg911:  where are you?  what street?

You:  Main Street.

Burg911:  Are you injured?

(dial tone................)

Okay you get the point.  Program the damn 7 or 10 digit numbers to your local PD into your phones people!  

Simple Logic would say...

Ok, I realize I may be going out on the proverbial limb here, but I was thinking this morning, that if I were born in a foreign country, I dunno, let's just pick one at random, say Mexico, and I broke US Federal Law by entering this country illegally so I could find work picking lettuce, working construction, washing dishes, or whatever other skill I possessed, and I drove a truck to work every morning, that if I saw the Gringos around me stop when the light turned red, and this red light ALWAYS was preceded by a yellow light, and if I knew I had no driver's license, and no insurance, and if I get caught driving then my truck gets picked up by la grua ("the hook" or tow truck) then when I saw la luz amarilla I would get ready to stop and then come to a stop because I knew la luz amarilla would be turning to la luz roja and all the gringos were expected to stop, and there was a gringo policia on his motorcycle-0 across the intersection-o just waiting see if anyone will run la luz roja then I would make darn sure I altoed at the light. But that's just me.  

Running a red light:  $426

Driving with no license:  $281

Driving with no insurance: $551 (I have no idea why the court always tacks on that extra buck)

Impound fee for a tow:  $120

Towing fees: $190

Chances any of these traffic fines will ever get paid: 0 out of 10

Illegal immigration:  The Death of America.

They'll never notice me...

Driving down the main drag of downtown burg I notice a Mercedes E350 in front of me, probably I'm guessin' about a $60-70,000 car.  (I'm guessin' because I can't afford a Benz). Driver is a 30 yr old clean cut business guy type.  It has no plates on it.  Well it has the paper dealer plates on it and that little bogus new car sticker that CA car dealers put in the corner of your window when you buy a new car.   Yours truly notices that the paper plates are wrinkled, and the car hasn't been washed in a while.  Well if I had a brand new Benz, it would be sparkling clean.  This doesn't pass the smell test, so I put on the pretty lights for a violation of CVC 5200, no plates displayed.  

NSSG (Not So Smart Guy):  Is there something wrong, Officer?

BC:  I stopped you because you don't have any plates on your car.  How long have you had it?

NSSG:  A while (while digging out ID card).  I might as well tell you now, my license is suspended.

BC:  Thanks for letting me know.  How long is 'a while'?  Where are the license plates?

NSSG:  A few months.  The plates are in the trunk.

BC: (Removing the bogus dealer sticker and unfolding it to reveal the true purchase date)  You bought this car in Oct. '07.  You mean you've been driving around for a year and a half with no plates on the car?  Why is your license suspended?

NSSG:  Um, yeah.  It's suspended for a DUI.  I thought if I didn't put the plates on the cops wouldn't bother me.

BC:  Sounds like you're a victim of your own paranoia.  Please sign at the X.  This is a citation for no plates, no proof of insurance, and driving on a suspended license.  (He signs)

BC:  I need your ignition key.

NSSG: Why?

BC:  The car is impounded now.

NSSG: (Accepting his fate)  Okay.

BC:  I'm going to search it too.  Is everything in the car yours?

NSSG x2:  Yes.

(BC opens trunk, is almost knocked over by the smell of marijuana, and finds 1/2 oz. of marijuana in a paper bag)  BC:  Is there any more of this?

NSSG x2:  No, you got all of it.

(BC gets out the cite book again, and writes up a possession of marijuana ticket).  Please sign at the X.  (NSSG signs again).  BC:  Aren't you a little old to be smoking weed?

NSSG:  I know, it's stupid, I stopped drinking and I use it to relax.  

BC:  You know, maybe it's just me, but if I were driving on a suspended license, and I owned a nice car, or for that matter any car at all, and I wanted to keep driving it, I certainly wouldn't give the cops an easy reason to pull me over like not mounting the plates on my car.

NSSG:  Yeah, your right.  I guess I'm not so smart after all.

(Tow truck arrives for a 30 day impound tow) BC:  Have you ever seen my blog?

Once more and you'll have a hat trick!

So there I am at one of my favorite fishing ponds in Burg this morning, wreaking havoc on the morning commute.   A couple of years ago, traffic technicians in Burg installed several "rat" boxes at some of our busiest intersections.  What is a rat box?  It's a small light that is wired to a particular traffic signal, and pointed in a direction where traffic officers (a.k.a. moia and my buddies) can sit and safely view the signal and the limit line for the direction of traffic.  Basically it allows us to sit on the OTHER side of the intersection, and know the exact moment when the light has turned red for oncoming cars.  That way we don't need to bust through the intersection lights and siren and put ourselves and everyone else at risk going after a red light runner.  The rat box lights are usually red, sometimes blue in color.  Why the term 'rat box'?  I don't know, it must stand for something, I just think of it as cheese for the rat about to run the light, but I'm sure there is a meaning behind the term...I'll get back to you on that.

So there I am, again, in the morning.  This particular rat box is wired to the oncoming left turn arrow.   After a couple of minutes a fish jumps in the gill net and I pull it over.  Busted the light by a good 20 feet.  And now to the traffic stop:

BootedCop:  Good morning, I stopped you for running the red arrow.  May I see your license, registration and insurance please?

Clueless Driver:  Please don't give me a ticket, I just got done paying off the last one.

BC:  What did you get your last ticket for?

CD:  Running a red arrow

BC:  What did you pay on the fine?

CD: Over $400

(okay, maybe I'm not the brightest guy in the world, but I realize this 1. It's a weekday morning at 8am. 2. 90% of the working world goes to work on weekday mornings between 7am and 9am, hence the term "rush hour".  3. Most people work at the same place every day, and sleep and get out of bed at the same place every day.  4. As a result of #3, people usually drive the same route to work every day, at about the same time every day, which is the layman's definition of routine, a derivative of the word route.  5.  She just ran a red arrow.  6. She said her last ticket was for the same thing.  7. Conclusion--what are the chances that....)

BC: Did you get the last ticket at this same intersection?

CD: Yes

BC:  When was that?

CD: A few months ago

BC:  Did I give it to you?

CD:  I don't know are you the one that's always there?

Okay, I don't know about you, but if I got a ticket from motorcop for busting a red light, it cost me over $400, and I drive the same way to work every day, and I see Burg PD cops on motorcycles sitting on that corner on a regular basis, and oh by the way did I mention it cost over $400, and I was going through the same intersection where I got the ticket, and I see the 3 lights cycle yellow for 4 seconds, and I'm waaaaaay the hell back there behind the intersection,  then my brain at least would say "HEY DUMMY, FOOT ON BRAKE!  STOP!"

But alas, maybe some people don't think the same way as I do.  CD, cite #2 for you, next time is the hat trick!

Sometimes it simply amazes me how people survive in this world...

So You Think You Can Dance?

I've tried over the years  of dealing with the public to be the consummate professional when contacting someone--well, mostly.  There are times on this job, however, that one needs a little comic relief, and when you're in my position it usually comes at the expense of another:

Several years ago while on patrol one night in Burg, I stop a car for weaving.  Aha, suspected DUI driver.  I get up to the car and sure enough, the guy is drunk.  Not just drunk, mind you, but completely smashed.  I call for a cover officer to come over while I balance him out (thats cop lingo for field sobriety tests or FSTs).    This guy fails every test of course, and there's no question he's going in.  It happens to be a beautiful starry summer night, you know the kind where the temperature is perfect and everything is bliss.  My suspect is one of those "happy" drunks, but he is so wasted that I know he's not going to remember anything in the morning.  I'm estimating his BAC to be somewhere between a .22 to a .25, yet he's still walking around pretty well.  

So we finish the standard FSTs, and my cover officer moves in a bit closer, expecting me to slam the cuffs on at any moment.  The suspect says "how'd I do, Othifer?"  Now comes the fun part.    "Not bad, but I have one more test for you to take, and if you pass this one, you can go home."  "Okay".  "This is a pretty simple test, but it may make the difference between jail and sleeping in your own bed.  You see that rock on the ground in front of you?"  "Yeth."  With your right hand I want you to point to it and say 'ROCK'."  "Okay."  "Then, do you see that bright star behind you way up in the sky?"  "Uh huh"  "Then point to it and say 'STAR' loud enough so we both can hear you, and repeat that 10 times, with a faster cadence each time".  I smirk as I notice the quizzical look on my partner's face.  "Sir, do you understand the test?"  "Yeth!"  "You may begin."

Our gullible drunk then points at the ground "Rock!" and back over his shoulder "Star!"  I yell "come'on man!  faster than that, DO IT!"  "ROCK!  STAR!  ROCK STAR! ROCKSTAR! ROCKSTAR!"  I have no idea what passing motorists are thinking as this guy is doing one horrible John Travolta Saturday Night impression by the side of the road.   All the dude needed was an Angel's Flight casual suit to make it complete!  My partner had to turn and walk away because he was laughing so hard and starting to tear up.   The hardest part was imparting the message to our drunk that he didn't pass,  "sorry sir, please put your hands behind your back, you're under arrest."

Yeah, sometimes this job can be incredibly fun...

Excuse me Sir, while I pick up my shattered ego

A few years ago when I was a new motorcop, I'm working speed enforcement on one of our local speedways. It's the kind of fishin' hole like the kiddie ponds where you pay 10 bucks for your kid to catch a fish, you know the sure thing. So I'm set up for about 2 minutes and I zap a guy for doing 58 in a 40 zone. I get the car pulled over and stopped all fine, no problem, and start to dismount. For whatever reason they never go over dismounting in motor school except for always getting off the high side (non-traffic side) for obvious officer safety reasons. It's another reason you almost never see a motorcop at the driver's side of a car. We always mount and dismount the bike on the right side. I always approach the car from the passenger side. It's safer and I'm out of the way of passing traffic. So okay back to the story. I put the kickstand down, or so I thought. On the Harley you have to make sure that the kickstand is fully extended. I in my haste put the kickstand down only about 90% of the way, then set the bike down. TIMMMMM-BERRRRR!!!! I never knew I could pick up a 900-lb bike so fast! It's amazing what adrenaline will do. The most embarrassing moment for a motorcop is when he drops his bike, and I don't know any motor who hasn't. You just hope when your turn comes that it isn't in front of other motorcops because it is usually followed by a hearty round of applause and cheers and a camera or two coming out of a saddlebag. Not that we're mean to each other or anything, it's just that why poke fun at yourself when you can do it at your buddy's expense? We all have gigantic egos, because we know how flippin hard it was to pass motor school. The motor gods seem to keep us in line every once in a while. Humility is a good thing.

And yes, the dude still got his ticket. Everytime since then the kickstand has ALWAYS been fully extended!!