The Cop Obsession- The Sunday Collage

The other night I was eating at a restaurant when I struck up a conversation with the waiter. After managing a few restaurants, working 60 and 70 hour weeks, my waiter informed me that he had had enough of the restaurant business. He was going into law enforcement.

I don't think I was every really prepared for law enforcement. I started in 1983 and I landed in one of the richest, if not the richest, valleys in the west. Sun Valley is filled with old money, blue bloods, billionaires, liberals like John Kerry, and more Ivy league graduates than I care to remember. The place was suffocatingly liberal and when I say that- I need to be specific. These people don't think they are better than you- they know they are. They have more success than you, more money than you, a better education than you, bigger houses and jets, and they aren't afraid to make that known under the right circumstances.

They are better than you. That was a consistent message.Think Leona Helmsley.

I wasn't prepared at all for any of that, in fact I was incredibly naive and stupid. I have to tell you that the contempt those people have for law enforcement is well concealed. Outwardly, you wouldn't see it. They understand propriety better than any class of people I have ever met. Image is everything to the wealthy. Publicly, they wouldn't say shit with a mouth full. Privately, it was a different story entirely. After many years, you might say- the truth just started leaking out.

So the upper crust wasn't much different than the lower crust when it came to hating cops. They just used different tactics.

I'd be a liar if I said I didn't feel a twinge of hate anytime someone flipped me off, called me a pig, or yelled "sooeyy." If blacks don't like being called "niggers" then how could anyone imagine cops who enjoy being called "pigs." The difference is- nobody cares about cops. There will never be any marches, any litigation over hate speech because generally speaking- our society says it's ok to call policemen "pigs." It is tolerated. And it is tolerated by the masters of free speech- the liberals- the deciders of what is appropriate speech and what is not. Or it wouldn't be.

I get all that. I got it privately and I got it from folks like Bill Maher. And I got it for 25 years up until such point that I didn't have to get it anymore.

There was only one guy- in all my years- who very nearly got his ass kicked. There was the kid on one of our league's softball teams that loved to call me pig. I gave his father CPR on a gym floor before he was pronounced dead. I gave his mother money and a television before she died of lupus 15 years later, nearly penniless, but I never made a point of telling him. It didn't matter. He had a shitty life- I never expected much out of him anyway.

And so I jettisoned out. I would not have to hear the cop hating rhetoric anymore. Or so I thought.

Please don't misunderstand me. I hate victim speak. I picked that line of work and I enjoyed it. And even when I was at my worst- I'd like to think there was a lot of good in me. So mostly the good outweighed the bad. That's why I stayed for 25 years and the first one was free. I wasn't stealing from anyone, charging predatory interest rates, or gouging little old ladies in car repair shops because I could get away with it. I was trying to be the best human being that I could be and sometimes I was. I wasn't ashamed of what I did and I'm still not. But I don't make much of a habit of mentioning the old life because out here nothing has changed.

I guess I still don't get it. Everyday it seems, I stumble onto blogs and rants all over the internet about crooked cops or ne'er do wells with some attached vitriolic narrative. It's a never ending stream of shit and I have to quit thinking it's going to stop any time soon. I gotta quit confronting these people. Hatred, any kind, is just a form of mental illness. Besides, I am 30 years down the road and I doubt the liberal word police are gonna show up anytime soon. All I can do is remove those venues from my daily radar.

Law enforcement is a noble profession. Done well- cops work small miracles every day. That's a gratifying gig.

Those were the things I said to the waiter. I liked him. He was a big, happy guy with a daughter that he said he wanted to spend more time with. I remember thinking I would have hired him back in the day.

In the meantime, if any of you cop haters stumble in here and think you are gonna leave some nasty piece of vitriol in the comments, know this- it won't last long. And if Kenny stumbles in- I just wanna say thanks. He'll know what I am talking about.









 






 

A Heart Wrenching Story

As a bagpiper, I play many gigs. Recently I was asked by a funeral director to play at a graveside service for a homeless man. He had no family or friends, so the service was to be at a pauper’s cemetery in the back country. As I was not familiar with the backwoods, I got lost and, being a typical man, I didn’t stop for directions.
I finally arrived an hour late and saw the funeral guy had evidently gone and the hearse was nowhere in sight. There were only the diggers and crew left and they were eating lunch.
I felt badly and apologized to the men for being late. I went to the side of the grave and looked down and the vault lid was already in place. I didn’t know what else to do, so I started to play.
The workers put down their lunches and began to gather around. I played out my heart and soul for this man with no family and friends. I played like I’ve never played before for this homeless man.
And as I played ‘Amazing Grace,’ the workers began to weep. They wept, I wept, we all wept together. When I finished I packed up my bagpipes and started for my car. Though my head hung low, my heart was full.
As I opened the door to my car, I heard one of the workers say, “I never seen nothin’ like that before and I’ve been putting in septic tanks for twenty years.”
Apparently, I’m still lost… It’s a man thing.

"They're Just After My Money" and Other Enlightening Moments- The Sunday Collage

Many years ago, I used to play poker in Northern Nevada with a cantankerous old millionaire who played a lot of cards. He was frequently very lucky and he'd do stupid things like count the cards in the middle of the table with his index finger, including the two he was holding in his hand, and then announce he had a straight. Of course, he would then bet. Newcomers would always think that nobody would say that out loud and mostly they would just call his bet- a few of the aggressive ones would raise just prior to being introduced to a re-raise.

One time, after a very lucky session, my friend looked over at me and announced he was leaving. He was a big winner. He looked at me and said, "These assholes are just after my money." I replied, "No shit Sheldon- it's a poker game."

In just the last three months, my property taxes have gone up 200 a year, my homeowners and car insurance went up 200 a year, and my cable bill went up 150 a year. I am going to pay a 450 dollar Obamacare penalty. Those 4 things are going to cost me 1000 more dollars next year aside from rising food and energy costs.

Is there anyone out there- anywhere- who believes the Bureau of Labor Statistics 2.5% annual inflation bullshit?

And if you don't- please explain to me how the masters of the universe have stopped the precious metals from soaring which they have a tendency to do whenever inflation hell is breaking out.

I am in absolute awe at what I am seeing. Consumers are being absolutely stripped of what little wealth they have left, while being introduced to lower, crappier wages as the stock market band on the economic Titanic just plays along.

If I didn't know any better, I'd just say that everybody was after my money.

I'll tell you the nuttiest part. I actually bought precious metals thinking that this precise scenario was about to take place years ago but alas, somehow, someone, has reversed  the economic laws of nature which have governed the 53 years that I have been on this rock- forcing gold and silver to trade near three year lows.

I cancelled my Direct TV account last week. I am kind of sick of them arbitrarily raising my monthly charge every year or so which is their trade tactic for getting you to sign a new contract. Each time a contract expires, they gouge me just a little bit more. Six years of this nonsense. This time, I said "no mas." I am gonna save about 900 a year. I very gleefully will box up their receiver, the card, and pay my last payment to these pirates.

I am going to use that money to pay my taxes, insurance, and my Obamacare penalty. 

Now granted, I'm going to be missing out on CNBC telling me how wonderful banks and Wall St. are every weekday morning. I won't be able to see the digger clowns from Montana finding "nectar" in the hole. Or Jeremy Whatshisname catching river monsters. Somehow I am going to just have to make due without all of that "entertainment."

Or not. I bought a Roku from Amazon that actually gives me most of what I watch for 99 bucks, one time. I'm still playing with it but I think it might be a viable alternative to corporate capture. I streamed the Preakness today over Pimlico's site and watched the only thing worth seeing. California Chrome might just break the 40 year triple crown drought. I will finally be able to die in peace.

I've been watching commodity prices rising dramatically over the past two months- well everything except gold and silver- that is. Gas is almost back to 4 bucks a gallon in Boise with two weeks until Memorial Day. Prices on everything from meat to coffee are soaring. They even raised my water bill.

I don't know about you, but I get this sneaking suspicion that our economy is heading for a cliff. Like something very big is about to happen and nobody is talking about it or sees it coming.

This morning, I am thinking about going to Jackpot, Nevada and playing in a poker tournament. Everyone will be trying to get my money while I in fact- will be trying to get theirs. That's kind of the agreed upon premise. At least it's all above board and everyone plays on the same, level, playing field. Nobody can simply extort your chips from you without winning them- fair and square- nor do you have to sign contracts or listen to corporate drones try and entice you into giving them more money. 

I used to see Sheldon, my friend, every Sunday in that tournament. He won his fair share of them. I haven't played in it since he passed away a couple of years ago. Maybe, I will get a straight and count the cards out in the middle out loud (of course) and my two hole cards and say, "I gotta straight" and then bet.

I bet they'll call me. Some things, thank gawd, never change.

The Free Speech Nazis and Some Tuesday Humor

Today I noted that a professional football player was fined for tweeting some free speech regarding an openly gay football player selected in the draft who kissed his boyfriend on national tv.

You see it's ok to kiss your boyfriend on national television- that speech is protected. But if you object to men kissing other men on the lips and tweet about it...well that speech is not protected. http://www.cnn.com/2014/05/12/us/michael-sam-nfl-kiss-reaction/

You cannot make this shit up. There is a part of me that is very grateful I am in my 50's and that I don't have to put up with another 50 years of this bullshit from the free speech nazis.

The speech nazis of course, are free to pick and choose who gets free speech and who does not. If you are black you can  say "nigger or nigga" but if you are white- that is off limits. The first amendment they will say, only protects free speech where the government is concerned. Therefore any consequences you suffer- as they humiliate you, banish you from NBA team ownership, or fine you- is perfectly acceptable. There are consequences they say- consequences which they arbitrarily assign as they DECIDE who is entitled to their brand of free speech and who is not.

Free speech you see- is available only to the nazis. They will determine what you can say and what you cannot say.

That is mob rule in action.That is also precisely what the founding fathers sought to avoid when creating a Republic which protects the rights of the minority.

Oh yea, the humor part. You'll like this.

Mel Brooks recently stated that his best film in his opinion, “Blazing Saddles” could not even be made today because of the political correctness craze which has grown exponentially during recent years. The NFL draft which was held this past weekend reminded me of a joke which I’m sure will put the biggest bullies in America, “the political correctness police” into a frenzy. It goes like this.

The Washington Redskins are changing their name because of all the negativity, shame, humiliation, dissent, polarity, adversity, defiance, hatred, animosity, contempt, discrimination, division, violence, counter-productivity, ill-spirit, un-Godliness, and hostility associated with their name. From now on they will be known simply as the Redskins.

Six Years at Bernie's- The Sunday Collage

During the week, I had the chance to see an oddball movie called "Weekend at Bernie's." It is the story about an embezzler (Bernie) who invites two co-workers (who discovered the theft) to his vacation home to have them killed and gets killed himself. The two co-workers, fearing they'll get blamed for Bernie's death, pretend he's still alive and although there is a party at Bernie's house over the weekend- nobody notices that Bernie is dead.

I don't want to ruin the movie- in case you want to see it. It came out on blue ray last Tuesday.

There is a metaphor in here somewhere.

All during the week, more and more internet chatter took place about Benghazi after the disclosure of an administration email that essentially proves that this administration willfully lied to the American people regarding the nature of the attack on Benghazi. Blaming it on some poor islamaphobe/videographer/felon schmuck in California (eventually having him arrested) and calling that a "talking point." What a sham.

To call the actions of President Obama deplorable and reprehensible is obvious. They were willfully negligent.  That the American people have allowed Obama to essentially ignore this event has become a hallmark feature- not only of this presidency but of an American populace who apparently support this man and who are morally just as bankrupt as he is.

So I'm not here to state the obvious- that Obama is a self centered liar who placed his re-election concerns over the lives of American citizens, allowed others to lie about it on his behalf, and has never offered even an explanation for what he was doing that night.

Instead, I want to talk about an American citizenry that allows this type of reprehensible conduct and labels it "politics."

Watergate was a third rate burglary. Back then, the media led by Woodward and Bernstein, were fed a non stop stream of information from the deputy director of the FBI who was code named "deep throat." The journalistic investigation ended Nixon's presidency. When it became obvious that Nixon was on the verge of being impeached or perhaps even criminally charged- he resigned and was later pardoned by President Ford.

A lot of people, particularly liberals, wanted Nixon in jail back then. We have never jailed an American president. I think we should have. It would have sent the message in this country that nobody is above the law. As it turns out- the Nixon affair was precedent setting.

So if we call Nixon a criminal for the scandal that was Watergate- how does the Benghazi affair measure up? What are we going to put on Obama's report card?

I don't think Obama directly ordered the siege and killings. That he did nothing that night was inexcusable. This was an American diplomat that had begged for help and protection- almost endlessly- and had received nothing from Hillary Clinton.That Benghazi was probably a CIA sponsored gun smuggling operation does not alter my view that only the President- the Commander in Chief- can order the military to protect our citizens anywhere. Think Jimmy Carter.

It was three weeks prior to the 2012 election and we all damn well know what happened to Jimmy Carter right before his re-election bid. The failed Iranian hostage rescue was seen as one more bungled attempt of an ineffective President. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Operation_Eagle_Claw 

I remember it well. So would Obama. We are both about the same age.

You see, I am not surprised that Obama is yet another self centered political sociopath who sees his material needs as far more important than the lives of some hoi polloi in a Libyan outpost.

I am far more concerned with an enabling populace who will conjure up every excuse imaginable to allow Obama to escape responsibility. The last excuse, the deus ex machina that supporters always seem to default to... is that there is nothing to see here- it's all just politics. That's always the position the left takes whenever they've run out of excuses for this guy.

Only Obama could have sent the military to help our staff in Benghazi. He did not. Could there be some mitigating circumstance? Unfortunately for now, there is no explanation except that he is a callous, self centered human being that simply did not care about the lives of his countrymen. He had an election to win or lose.

If you would like to keep your sanity- ignore and accept what is happening today in America. Your countrymen are cowards. They distort issues and try to make facts look like opinions. They create every excuse imaginable to help their ilk escape accountability and responsibility.

Contrary to popular beliefs- we do not always get the politicians we deserve. Sometimes we get far worse. 

As a retired police chief, I am trying to imagine a situation where an employee failed to respond to a 911 call for help, let some family get massacred, and then ignored the whole incident with indifference. Never wrote a report or offered any explanation to a grieving family. Can you imagine that? Could he keep his job? Could I keep mine?

That would be a strange world indeed.

Getting back to that metaphor and a message of hope for the non criminally sane. Pretending that everything is fine does not make everything fine. To keep your sanity right now, keep your expectations low. Don't compromise your principles and don't let a majority of American cowards tell you what is right and wrong and remember this- just because you are right does not mean you will prevail. Right now, the cowards are winning.

We have two more years at Bernie's.  

Obama At The Bat

From Mark W.... with over 8 million views.

They'll Never Do This Again- The Sunday Collage

On Tuesday of this week, I traveled by high speed Elantra to Butte, Montana. I go there a few times a year to eat cornish pasties, pork chop sandwiches, and other assorted delicacies like pastries from the Town Talk bakery. (I am currently on day 3 of my once a year Atkins diet) We always gamble a little in Butte and I think I beat them out of 30 bucks.

I used to stay at the old Finlen Hotel in uptown Butte, but now I stay at the Miner's Hotel. I wouldn't have it any other way. The city has an emotional claim on me.

There is an adjective residents use to describe themselves. It's called Butte tough and I am going to try and describe what that means to me. I think that unless you have lived in Butte- you may not understand it. But first, please allow me a few strokes of the paintbrush.

As a child, I remember this old gentleman on Platinum St. who used to pull quarters out of our ears and give them to us. He was always well dressed and just strolled along. I remember the Mencarelli's house- I had my first drink there when I was 11. I stopped to watch a kids baseball game last week at Scown field. The kids that were playing baseball that day were the same age as I was when I played at that field in the shadows of the Anselmo head frame. Scown field was where I hit my first home run- and Mr. Scown was my coach. 

When I was a kid growing up in Butte, 40 below temperatures were pretty common and usually happened at least once or twice a year. Winter seemingly lasts forever here- due in large part to the fact that Butte lies at the western foot of the Continental Divide. The mine was still in full swing in the late 60's and early 70's when I was growing up. The uptown part of Butte is filled with late 19th century architecture and homes. The old part of town is built on very steep terrain with winding, crazy streets that no city planner could even imagine. Some of the streets are so bad- that they are impassable and potholes lurk everywhere. Streets get far worse the higher up you drive toward Walkerville. The old part of Butte boasts large brick homes and mansions. Further up the hill- the little suburb of Walkerville didn't fare as well. The only way to describe Walkerville is that it is kind of a shanty town with no shortage of rusting junk laying about. The original residents of Walkerville were all immigrant miners- too poor to build homes out of brick so they had to settle for little wood houses. Houses that many simply built themselves. They walked out their front doors, maybe a quarter mile or less, to work in the mines each day.

If Butte is tough, Walkerville is tougher. Here's a decent blog post that I found with some accompanying pictures- pictures which capture a little bit of the flavor of the place.  http://jonjostcomingtoterms.wordpress.com/2012/07/29/settings-walkerville-and-butte/

The dark side of Butte was that it was a giant mining camp with thousands of poorly educated miners from all over the world. Crime and corruption were rampant. The murder and violent crime rates were once the highest in the nation and the theft and arson rates might not have been far behind. There were shootings, bombings, and fights. Everyone it seemed- engaged in fights. Gambling and prostitution were done out in the open.

They once called Butte the Gibralter of unionism. Even the butchers and barbers had unions. Unionism spawned all kinds of work stoppages, mayhem, and murder over the years. http://www.butteamerica.com/labor.htm

Very often as a kid growing up in Butte and sometimes as an adult in Boise- I found myself defending Butte's honor. Some Montanans like to call Butte the armpit of the world or simply refer to it as Butt, Montana. Oh... how I get tired of hearing that over and over. I still don't like it and every once in a while- I let some would be smart ass have a taste of their own medicine.

So, what's it like to be Butte tough? Butte tough is about being there. It's about surviving horrible mine conditions, decades of calamities, all kinds of crime and shootings, brutal winters, and seasonal depression. It's about striking (and having no income) against a cutthroat company who thought nothing of manipulating and plundering the working class, infiltrating union meetings with Pinkerton spies, and killing at least 2500 miners in unsafe conditions. It's about crippling disease. It's about working 12-hour days, 6 days a week, choking on dust and putting rock in the box. It's about living in houses that always need repairs and driving on streets that the lack of a tax base has all but forgotten. It's about cursed earth- working among some of the worst soil erosion on the planet, toxic dust, and a pit filled with water so acidic that it can obliterate an iron train rail in two weeks. It's about being abandoned by your government when you desperately need clean up jobs for a Superfund site which one day- will have to be cleansed. It's about disease, alcoholism, drug abuse, an abnormally high suicide rate, and 10 dollar an hour jobs if you can land one. But mostly, being Butte tough is about enduring.

And despite the dark side- I love Butte. I love the architecture, the history, the heroism, and the spirit of those who stayed on long after the mine closed. This was their home- good times or bad.  I love the people who share the common bonds of what might be described as a desperate life. I love the 100 year old beer and cigarette ads painted on the brick walls of buildings in uptown Butte. I love the peeling paint, the wrought iron fences, the concrete gargoyles and lions adorning those structures. I love copper. I love the food, the crazy streets, and the granite curbs. I love the spirit of people who came here to find their piece of the American dream. I love those giant black head frames and all the tragedy and greed they represent. I often wish that people could have experienced this place like I did. 

Because deep down I know- they'll never do this again.