As I mentioned in my prior posts, I will include, from time to time, my observations on the world  -  and the police world in particular.  These opinions are not derived, I assure you, from scientific studies, nor are they the final results of much deep thought.  They are just the stuff that gets shoved into a cop’s head after a decade or so.

Your Grandma Was Wrong

So your grandma told you people are basically good.  Bull.  In the last several patrol shifts, in neighborhoods that cross all socioeconomic barriers, the following have taken place:

1.  A mother of three, living in a twin bed with all three kids, fighting violently with police who tried to arrest her.  The kids were not hurt, thanks to the professionalism of our women and men in uniform.  Well done, Mom.

2.  A 90 year-old man with dementia left in his bed for weeks by his children.  Bed sores, sickness, infection, etc.  Thanks for raising me, dad.

3.  A young man who wanted to join a gang.  Nothing new here, except the gang didn’t want him.  So they beat him into the ICU.  He was fourteen or fifteen, at the oldest.

4.  Finally, some common sense.  These geniuses killed a cat and hung it from a tree on a public highway.  Why?  Tired of the cat messing up the house.

I once met a police psychologist who gave a good presentation on why cops are “different” than other people.  His hypothesis was that all humans can take only so much “evil stuff” before it gets them in some way or the other.  Cops, he said, get their dose for life in the first five years of their career.  Not so far off, doc.

What do you think?

As much as I fancy myself a philosopher, I am frequently reminded that what really excites me is being a cop.

Since my own blog description predicts I will be talking about my “…decade of policing,” I have decided to post (almost) daily the observations that stick to the fly paper in my head. Many will be from last night’s shift; others might be from years ago. I hope you find they continue to change the way we each look at policing. That remains my global mission. Here goes.

My First Observation: Over 10 Years Ago…

One of the first things I ever remember considering “as a cop” was how kids looked at me. I love kids, so I always looked and cooed and smiled. Before I was a cop, and to this day if I am out of uniform, they would generally look back, cry, or do nothing at all.

When I try this in uniform, kids light up. They giggle, laugh, and point. How cool is that? For years I have been carrying little stickers and badges and toy police cars for the occasion. Nothing makes my day like, “MOMMY! The police man gave me a real badge. LOOK M-O-M-M-Y!”

Sadly, after about 17 years, the smiles turn into middle fingers, and the chants are somewhat less — umm — adorable. Sigh.

But hey, smile at that uniform, little ones…you might just be staring down the philosophical cop.