Posts Tagged ‘cops’

Since I have started blogging, there is one person that never never fails to read my posts, share them on Facebook, and encourage me to keep going (or kick me in the ass with a reminder that I have “neglected my duties”) more than anyone. The topic of this post was her idea and suggestion, and I decided to run with it…Thanks Susy!

The “Bucket List.” It’s a popular thing now…and mine is one of the few blogs without one. Seems everyone is making a list of what they fully intend to do and want to experience before it’s too late.

That’s not what this is.

Yeah, yeah, someday I will make a Bucket List of my own…and I will post it here for your amusement.

But this one is a little different. My list for today is going to be all the things you NEVER once thought you would do, intended NOT to do, or otherwise ended up involved in that you would never have planned on.

This isn’t exactly an Anti-Bucket List, but similar.

This is the Bucket List that Fate would have written for you with her cruel twists and gleeful cosmic jokes…

  • You will travel several states away in search of an ancient cemetery for the purpose of…well, you won’t have a good reason. You will take this 36 hour road trip on a bus with dozens of strangers. (some of my cooler relatives actually did this one)
  • You will grow up without the intention of EVER having children because you like the order and freedom of your own existence too much to share. Then you will be blessed not only with two children, but two children JUST LIKE YOU.
  • You will spend adolescence fighting with your mother about your messy room…then you will develop adult-onset OCD…and have a messy child.
  • You will overcome your shyness in one fateful night, and realize this when you wake up the morning after your twenty-first birthday party with the terrible realization that you accepted a new job the night before…as a bartender in the bar you celebrated in.
  • You will find out that the bartending job will become the most loved and long-lasting job you ever had. You will discover yourself behind that sticky bar, make some of your dearest friends, and learn more than college ever thought to teach. You will get comfortable in your own skin and come out of your shell to never go back in.
  • You will spend more on an education you will never use than you will make in any one decade of your life.
  • You will get mad at a boyfriend and pack your bags, call a cousin to come get you, and move out of the state.
  • You will find out that the cousins you fight with as children become damn good friends as adults.
  • You will not forget the people who were cruel to you in high school. You will also not forget the people who were kind.
  • You will discover that you work much better for yourself.
  • You will be a night-owl in a world of people who leap out of bed at sunup like a freaking cheerleader on crack…you will resent these people and spend your life making coffee and trying to convince them NOT to call you before noon.
  • You will discover that the only thing you need for an impromptu trip to Albuquerque (simply because you like the name and you’ve never been) is two friends, a Ford pickup with an intact radio, a giant bag of Funyuns, and someone’s boyfriend’s gas card.
  • You will discover that the return trip (from anywhere) is never as great as the trip there. Unless you took a bus, then got smart and rented a car to come home in.
  • You will have an incurable soft spot for cats. You will marry a man who is allergic to them.
  • You will bungee jump for the first time in the parking lot of a Ford Dealership from a rusty crane. Your mother won’t speak to you for a month.
  • You will learn to drive a stick shift. You will abandon the whole concept in the middle of college traffic at 5pm on a Friday in the middle of the busiest intersection in town and hitch a ride home. The owner of the extended cab, long-bed Ford dually will have to come fish his boat out of traffic himself. He will forgive you…eventually.
  • You will take out a mailbox with an 18-wheeler.
  • You will yell at inept tech-support people at AT&T, at least two bosses, and a bank manager.
  • You will throw flaming cookies out a seventh floor window after forgetting they were baking…for a couple of hours.
  • You will stand barefoot (as a child) on a fish your dad caught and talk about the “whale.” You will also tell him it’s “darker than hell” outside while sitting on the armrest of his truck.
  • You will learn to speak a foreign language well enough to start a fight.
  • You will laugh in spite of yourself the first time your child says “dammit.”
  • You will get out of speeding tickets by crying, flirting, and using the “but I really gotta pee!” excuse. Then you will marry a cop.
  • You will stash photos of a cowboy water-skiing in swim trunks and a stetson for later blackmail material. You will later exchange these photos for equally incriminating ones of yourself.
  • You will organize at least one bikini square dance.
  • You will creep through old houses at night with friends and be convinced there are ghosts.
  • You will believe in ghosts, vampires, and superstition…and not care who knows it.
  • You will get tattoos and piercings.
  • You will learn that following all the rules and doing everything “by the book” would have made you a completely different person…and you won’t regret a damn thing.

I married a man who shrieks like a little girl and does the freaky dance if he walks through a spiderweb. This is the same man who wears kevlar and carries an M-something-or-other on his shoulder, a pistol on his side, and a knife in his boot. Gun-wielding psychopaths are no match for him, but a single strand of silk will bring him to his knees.

A wasp can extract almost the same reaction in this tough man…minus the shrieking, with more arm-waving. If we didn’t share this ranch with a population of roughly eight thousand wasps, it might have escaped my notice for a few more years.

Unfortunately, we live in a place where the bugs were (at some point in history) exposed to radioactive chemicals that gave them super powers.

The scorpions glow under a black light. Seriously. They also play dead if you poke them with a stick.

The spiders average the size of my closed fist, and can create a web that might actually stop a man in his tracks…they certainly have an effect on cops.

We have a few mosquitoes…they don’t bother me too much, they think my husband is skeeter-candy, though. More than those, we have what I grew up calling Mosquito-Hawks. I don’t know if that is a name I made up as a child or an actual reference, but they are basically giant mosquitoes. They fit right in with our overly-healthy arthropod/arachnid population.

Porcupines actually do shoot quills from their nether regions with the flexing of a muscle. I did not believe this, and dismissed it as an old wives’ tale until I actually witnessed the hissy fit that ensued from Officer Spiderman and his gun.

There are still some who don’t believe the centipede I found one day was ten inches long and had a red head. These same people actually saw the aftermath…I moved EVERYTHING out of my house in one afternoon. Seriously folks, I wouldn’t have done that for some little bug! …still never found the damn thing.

I am deathly afraid of centipedes. And clowns.These are actual phobias that will make me stop breathing for a space of time. People who love me don’t torture me with these things, people who grow to love me learn quickly that it’s not like jumping around a corner with a Scream mask on…it’s not a funny prank to pull.

Spiders, snakes, mice, and porcupines I can handle, and my husband is pretty good about exterminating any centipedes and scorpions we run across, and I take care of the things that can attack from above.

At least I don’t have to worry about bad guys…when someone breaks into the house, I get to be the one that screams like a girl.

This is something I wrote a while back in response to a “letter to editor” in a local newspaper…

The writer was evidently quite offended that a police officer dared to turn on lights and sirens as he responded to an emergency call.

Rumor has it he drove *gasp* 45 miles per hour in a 35 mph zone!

Wow…I wasn’t aware Wyatt Earp drove a truck. Thanks for the enlightenment. I’ll never watch Tombstone with the same level of respect…

Just for those who don’t know…

Police officers go through extensive training behind the wheel. Years of driving under conditions that would have most people spinning off the road. They are perfectly capable of handling the speeds that their job sometimes requires. If you have the bad luck not to notice the flashing lights and the blaring sirens that accompany an emergency vehicle, rest assured that emergency responder is perfectly capable of dodging you when you step out in front of him. They really do have to prove their driving skills at high speeds before someone “pins a badge” on them.

If you know of a police officer that runs Code 3 (this is the term for an emergency response with urgency, lights, and sirens) to catch a person going 3 mph over the speed limit, then you must not be from here, because the officers here won’t stop you for that violation. They have bigger fish to fry.

Consider this. You state the “few seconds” it would cost to slow down to 35 mph will not make a difference. You are mistaken, it would take more than a few extra seconds to reduce speed, meander through town, and build back to a speed suitable for an emergency. It would cost at least a couple minutes or more.
Now, imagine a child being beaten by an abusive adult waiting desperately for someone to save her. What about the person hiding in a closet from an unhinged ex tearing though the house with a gun? Or the mother whose child has been abducted and know precious seconds are wasting away while that child is taken further and further away?
These things happen in small towns, too. You don’t hear about every tragedy an officer faces, so the illusion of the safe little community remains intact.

Now, put yourself in the shoes of the officer. If he makes it on time, he might save a life. He might save a beaten child in time to avoid a hospital stay or a broken bone. He might get a baby back to his mother. He might stop a psychopath from firing the gun he is waving at the scared woman who called 911. If someone is already hurt, he could get there in time to put pressure on a wound before someone bleeds to death. Depending on the location of the injury, that can take seconds.

The people who read the local news surely read about a suicide attempt nearby. A person was saved literally by mere seconds, and ONLY because the officers that responded turned on their lights, their sirens, and drove as they were trained to.

You’re right, the police officer could take his time. He could give you those extra couple of minutes to satisfy your sense of propriety. He could ignore his training and his call of duty.
I can tell you this though…when it’s “time to bring out the big guns” (your words, not mine), that is not an officer I would vote for. I think I would vote for the one who will show up quickly when I call 911.
Let’s just hope you’re never in a terrible situation waiting desperately for someone to come to your aid…begging the 911 operator to “tell them to hurry”…praying help arrives in time. Let’s hope if you ever are in that position, that the officer turns on his lights and drives a little more than 30mph.