Do you know who Barry Manilow is?

Posted on July 6, 2015 by Badge415

Anyone who has worked with me knows I like to joke around with citizens. Sometimes the person is drunk and the opportunity is too good to pass up.

One night we had an officer involved shooting in a residential neighborhood. By the time I arrived, the scene was Code 4, but they still needed traffic control to keep cars out of the area.

I parked my patrol car just south of the shooting scene at an intersection and waited until it was okay to send traffic in that direction again. Every once in a while a resident would drive up and ask if they could get to their house. After screening them, I moved my car to let them pass.

That’s when I saw a car pull up to a house at the corner where I was at. A person got out of the car and walked up to the front door. The man was looking in my direction because I was blocking the street. He then looked northbound on the street to where all the police lights were.

He went inside his house, but came right back outside. He walked to the sidewalk and looked back down the street again. I could tell he was curious about what happened. Heck, I would’ve been curious too.

He then started walking toward my car. There was something about the way he walked that told me he had been drinking.

He got to my driver door and I saw the “drunk” look. His eyes were red and droopy with all the classic signs of a person who had been drinking. He was tall, thin and about 25 years old, with the smell of beer on his breath. I just hopped he wasn’t obnoxious.

“What happened?”

“Barry Manilow is down there.” I couldn’t resist saying it. It had been a while since I threw Barry Manilow’s name out like that.

“Really?” he said with a confused look on his face.

“Yeah,” I said as I tried to keep a straight face.

“Is he bad?”

“He’s badass. You should Google him.”

“Really?”

“Yes. He’s bigtime.”

“OK, thanks officer, I’ll Google him.”

The man smiled and turned around to walk away. It made me laugh because he had no idea I was kidding around. It also told me that more people in the world need to learn who Barry Manilow is.

Sometimes you just have to have fun on this job. Are you a Fanilow?

The tow truck and the bathroom

Posted on July 3, 2015 by Badge415

Last night I saw a tow truck run a stop sign right in front of me while going at least 20 miles per hour. I followed it to the next stop sign because I wanted to see if the driver was going to do it again. Of course, the driver rolled through that stop sign also, but not as bad as the first one.

I stopped the tow truck and walked up to the driver side. The driver had a weird look on his face as he opened the door so we could talk.

He handed me his license as I asked, “Why didn’t you stop for the stop sign?”

“I have to go to the bathroom,” he said.

“You do?” I said with a raised eyebrow. I’ve heard this excuse before and I wasn’t buying it.

“Yes. Bad.”

“Where are you going to use the bathroom at?” I asked.

“I don’t know.”

Maybe he had to use the restroom, but I wasn’t sure if it was as bad as he was making it out to be. I decided to write him a ticket because he hadn’t tried to stop for either stop sign.

I started to walk away, but then turned around as I asked, “Number 1 or number 2?”

“It’s going to be number 3,” he said with a serious look.

I wrote the ticket a little faster just in case……

You just can’t make this stuff up.

There’s still good in people

Posted on July 3, 2015 by Badge415

What do you see when you turn on the TV? You see conflict, chaos and people who just can’t get along. You see people who would cross a busy street just to kick a person while they’re down and then celebrate about it.

We, as officers, see firsthand what mean, crazy and violent things people do to each other.

Today I witnessed something rare. I actually saw the opposite of all the craziness and nonsense in the world.

I responded to a “person down” call at one of our parks. The call said a male was inside a woman’s bathroom and not breathing. When I arrived, the paramedics were already there and treating a male, who overdosed on heroin.

A homeless woman told us she was in the bathroom at time taking a “birdbath” as she tried to wash herself. While she was in the restroom she could hear a man and woman cutting an aluminum can open to make a “cooker” so they could inject heroin.

She knew what this sounded like because she was also a heroin user.

At one point the man went down and stopped breathing. The woman who was with him, took off and left the male on the floor in the bathroom.

The homeless woman saw this and knew he wasn’t breathing. She took action and started doing CPR on him, even though he was a complete stranger to her.

She said, “I just couldn’t leave him there.”

“Did you give him mouth to mouth?” I asked.

“Yeah. I’ve done CPR before.”

“Really?” I asked.

“Yes. To my mom. I was 12 years old at the time.” She made it sound like her mom passed away that day so I didn’t ask her any more questions.

The paramedics were able to revive the male and transported him to the hospital. We told the woman it looked like she had saved his life and told her she did a good job.

When we were done, she walked off into the park holding a bag with all of her belongings. She went back into her little world that most people will never be able to understand.

This is because the world has forgotten her and most people wouldn’t give her the time of day because of the way she looks.

Despite this, she saw that a complete stranger needed help and she jumped in with both feet and did what she could for him.

I’m not saying it’s safe to give a heroin addict mouth to mouth, but we can all learn a little something from the spirit of this woman, who helped another human being who was in need.

The spirit she displayed wasn’t much different from cops and firefighters, who are out there every day doing things for people they don’t know. They also don’t ask for anything in return.

Just something to think about.

The day I stopped Batman (Well, not really)

Posted on June 30, 2015 by Badge415

How many people can say they stopped Batman?

The other day I was driving down the street while at work when I saw a guy stopped on the side of the rode on his bicycle. He had one foot on the curb and he was looking down at something.

What really caught my eye was the word BATMAN on the back of his tank top. As I passed him, I thought it would be a funny picture to make it look like the police stopped Batman.

I dismissed the thought and kept driving. But this BAT opportunity would never come up again, so I turned around and headed back. I figured, how hard could it be to ask the guy.

By this time, Batman was riding his bicycle again along the curb. He didn’t have a cape, nor was Robin, The Boy Wonder, there as his partner. It was just a guy in his late 40’s with a shaved head, goatee, mustache and tattoos. He was the poster boy for parolee/tweaker man.

I pulled alongside and yelled out through my passenger window, “Can I take a picture of your shirt?” How funny that must have sounded.

He never even looked at me. It almost seemed like he pedaled faster. I called out to him again, but he looked straight ahead and seemed more determined to ignore me. I then wondered if this guy was going to be a “consensual encounter” that turned into a bicycle pursuit.

I called out one more time and he snapped out of his trance. He looked over at me and saw the police car. He said, “Yeah,” and stopped.

I stopped behind him and got out of the car as I said, “Can I take a picture of your shirt with the police car? It’s not every day a person can say they stopped Batman. My kids will think it’s funny.”

Parolee man laughed as he said, “Sure, you want me to stand like this?” He then turned away from the car while still sitting on the bicycle.

“Yes, perfect. Hold on.”

I set up my shot, but I noticed I couldn’t see the entire Batman word because of the way he slouched.

“Can you stand up straight for me?” Batman instantly stood up straight as he “posed” for the picture.

After I was done, I walked up to Batman and showed him the picture as I said, “Thank You, I appreciate it.”

“Bye, I hope your kids like the picture.” Batman then started pedaling as he rode off on his tweaker Bat bike.

One thing is for sure, this job allows you to do things that people in normal clothes can’t do. Could you imagine pulling up alongside parolee man on a bike and asking for a picture of his shirt?

Sometimes you just have to have fun on this job.

The Cat Poop Lady

Posted on June 23, 2015 by Badge415

Good neighbors are hard to find, right? Everyone has had that one neighbor who was too loud, or who had a trashed front yard, or who parked in front of your house. They were that one person who made you cringe when you saw them.

I once had a call about the crazy neighbor from hell. This particular “415 neighbors” call was more unusual than most. One night I was sent to 415(disturbance) call involving two neighbors. I knocked on the door of the RP’s(reporting partying) house and waited for them to open up.

After exchanging hellos, the RP said, “The woman next door wiped cat poop all over our front door.”

“How do you know?” I asked. This was already getting weird.

“The neighbor across the street video tapped her and put it on You Tube. Do you want to see it?”

Of course, I wanted to see. It’s not every day you get to see a neighbor wiping cat poop on a house. The RP told me they had problems with the Cat Poop Lady in the past. Really? I’m not surprised.

The RP logged onto You Tube and clicked on the link. The video showed the Cat Poop Lady during the daytime with a plastic shopping bag in her hand as she picked up something in her yard. Her actions were the same as when someone picks up after their dog at a park, so I knew it was animal feces.

The Cat Poop Lady walked next door to the RP’s house and started wiping the feces all over the front door and its handle. She then moved to the front windows and did her best “Wax on, Wax off” imitation from The Karate Kid movie while doing it. It was bizarre to watch. Who does this?

During the video, the voices of small children could be heard in the background. One voice said, “What is she doing?”

Another voice replied, “She’s crazy.”

I wondered how disturbed the Cat Poop Lady was to go through all this trouble. I also wondered how I got sent to this call in the first place. I felt like a robbery victim because they stole an hour away from me that I could never get back.

This wasn’t a police problem. They needed Ace Ventura-Pet Detective, not the cops. And the Cat Poop Lady needed Dr. Phil.

I told the RP I was going to write a “disturbance neighbor” report and said I would go talk to the Cat Poop Lady to give her a trespass warning. It was easier to take a short report and be done with it. Plus, I wanted to see what the Cat Poop Lady woman was like.

I knocked on the door and the Cat Poop Lady answered. I told her the reason why I was there and she came outside. I instantly saw the problem. She had a mean streak and definitely was suffering from some type of mental illness.

She denied going next door and doing her “wax on, wax off” imitation when I asked her about it. She was being difficult at this point and wanted to argue with me. She also started telling me how terrible the neighbors were. That’s the pot calling the kettle black.

I said, “I saw it on You Tube.”

“What do you mean? She asked.

“Someone video tapped you picking up cat poop and wiping it on your neighbor’s house. A little kid on the video could be heard saying ‘you’re crazy.’ Do you want to see it? It already has 50 views.”

That pretty much brought the conversation to screeching halt.

“This is your trespass warning. They don’t want you on their property. If you go back, they’ll have you arrested. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

I went back to the RP’s house and they were more than happy I had done something for them even though it was so small on my part.

I drove away thinking how strange the call and the Cat Poop Lady were. I also realized it’s not every day you get to write “cat poop” in a police report. It’s as close to a BS call that you can get.

You can’t make this stuff up.

I need a vacation!

Posted on June 13, 2015 by Badge415

Passports
Boarding pass
Luggage
Sunscreen
Hat
Book
Wife
Kids

That’s what my list looks like for a seven day cruise to the Mexican Rivera. Everything is packed and I’m ready to go.

Will I miss work? Yes and no. I’ll miss the laughs with my friends more than some of the nonsense that happens every night.

I still have passion for the job, but right now I’d rather have the wind in my face and the sea air in my lungs as we watch the sun setting over the horizon from the highest deck of our cruise ship.

For seven straight days there will be no blood, broken bones, abrasions, car accidents, tow trucks, street closures or fatal collisions. There won’t be any liars, drunk drivers, hit and runs or complaining from someone who can’t believe they’re at fault for the collision. There also won’t be any code 3 driving or report forms to fill out. It will just be “John Time.”

So, back to the original question. Will I miss it?

Part of me will because the job is part of me as much as I’m part of it. But the other part can shut the police world away because I won’t have a care in the world.

So, when my ship sets sail on Saturday at 4:30PM Los Angeles time, I’ll have a strawberry margarita for you guys that still have to work. Who knows, I might even have another as we sail off into the sunset.

Stay safe out there.

Not all shootings are like the movies

Posted on June 11, 2015 by Badge415

On Saturday night I had the pleasure of having my son on another ride along. He would go out with me every night if he could because he wants to be an officer.

The first two hours of my shift were spent trying to catch up on my paperwork. My son was like a caged lion that was pacing back and forth in the office. Every so often he’d ask when we were going outside. Each time I said, “When I’m done.”

For some reason, the night was unusually slow and he was itching to see action. As the hours ticked away toward EOW(end of watch) the chances of action were slipping through his fingers.

At about 1:30AM we met two of my friends at a legendary taco place for some food. My son was having fun listening to guy talk, but he wanted to get back into the police car. I could also tell he was getting tired because he had been up all day.

That’s when that sleepy eyed look sprang to life when a shooting call went out. We were only about two blocks away from the call so we headed that way.

As we left the restaurant my son was walking fast and leaving me behind as he went toward our car. I pointed out to him it didn’t matter how fast he got to the car because I was the one driving.

While we were en-route, an officer broadcasted over the radio that the victim was shot in the arm and was uncooperative.

We were the fifth car on scene as we drove into a rundown neighborhood that had seen better days in the 1950s. The apartment buildings were in disrepair and tired looking. There was graffiti spray painted all over the walls as a reminder that gang members believed this patch of concrete belonged to them.

We got out of the car and walked up to the victim, who was lying in the grass in front of an apartment complex. He had a shaved head and was wearing the trade mark baggy white t-shirt and dark pants of a gang member.

An officer was applying pressure to the wound as we waited for the fire department to arrive. My son stood next to me as he watched everything that was going on and being said. He was like a sponge at that moment taking it all in. If only he would listen to my wife with that much attention.

After a little while we left because there was nothing to do. As we drove away my son said, “I thought there would be more blood.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I also thought he would be in more pain. It’s not like the movies.”

“Sometimes there is more blood. It just depends on where the person gets shot,” I told him.

He then made me laugh as he said, “You really have to be ghetto if you won’t even tell the cops who shot you.”

“Some of these guys won’t say anything when they’re shot,” I replied.

“You guys were so calm. It was like you see that every day.” I couldn’t help but smile at that. It’s true. That stuff really does becomes “normal” after a while on this job. It’s just part of this crazy journey called police work.

But it’s not my fault

Posted on June 9, 2015 by Badge415

There’s a something funny that happens when a person finds out they’re at fault when they rear end another car. You would think it was pretty obvious who was at fault in that situation, but sometimes there’s drama when they ask.

The rear end collision is one of the most common I go. You would think this particular type of collision would be the easiest to avoid since the car was right in front of the other driver. There’s no surprises here. The car was either moving, slowing down or stopped.

After the collision the driver will sometimes ask if they’re at fault for rear ending the car. I actually think it’s funny when they ask that. That’s like a baseball player dropping an easy fly ball and asking if it was his fault.

They other night I went to a rear end collision where the driver was shocked when she found out she was at fault for crashing into the vehicle in front of her. She was going 40 miles per hour while following a vehicle less than a car length behind when the car stopped in front of her.

Of course, she didn’t have time to stop and crashed into the car. One person went to the hospital and one of the cars had to be towed. She then wanted to debate and argue with me when she asked if she was at fault.

There’s something that happens to people who can’t believe they’re at fault when they rear end a car. I call this the “I can’t believe I’m at fault” reaction.

First there’s the look of disbelief. Their eyes get wide, the jaw clinches, the head goes back and the upper body makes an involuntary jerk to the rear. They then shake their head side to side like it’s going to go away.

This particular reaction comes in different levels of disbelief, which makes it funnier at times. The reaction can be very slight to down right drama.

Once the reaction has been displayed I try and explain to the driver that they have to drive at a speed and distance that is safe for the conditions.

Whenever the person hears that they come back with, “But I was.” They say this without realizing that they just crashed into the back of a car that was stopped in front of them.

If they had been driving at a speed and distance that was safe for the conditions I would still be sitting in Starbucks rather than standing in the street with them.

Never mind that there’s an ambulance and a fire truck taking the victim away, who was just violently assaulted from behind by a 3,000lbs object on four wheels.

The process of explaining this can be painful at times, because the driver is in defensive mode. At that point they just want to debate.

There finally comes a point where nothing I say is good enough. That’s when I bring out this one simple sentence that works every time. It’s the “I should’ve had a V8” moment for the driver who is arguing with me.

I say, “You just can’t around hitting cars.”

Once the person hears that they stop arguing. Sometimes they display the “I can’t believe I’m at fault” reaction again. That means I get to see their body involuntarily jerk backwards again, along with the jaw clenching and shake of the head. This time the eyes don’t get wide. They instead squint like the villain from a Disney movie.

Too bad I can’t say what I really want to…….. ” You just can’t go around hitting shit.”

Was His Name Ricky Bobby?

Posted on June 7, 2015 by Badge415

If you’ve seen the movie Talladega Nights then you know who Ricky Bobby is. If you haven’t seen it, then you need to because it’s a pretty damn funny movie. I crack up just thinking of the name Ricky Bobby.

I had my son on a ride along tonight when we went to a “check the welfare” call at one of our local motels. A man called the police asking that officers check on his wife, who was at the motel because she was crying and not answering his questions.

Just thinking about that made me wonder what kind of people we were dealing with. Who calls the cops to check on their wife at a rundown motel when they’re in another city? Of course, that’s what makes this job interesting.

Two other patrol cops walked into the motel room first. There was a woman in the room, who was drunk and alone. She was crying and very emotional. We stood there while she told the officers what the problem was between sobs. Empty liquor bottles were on the desk and dresser like trophies.

From the start it looked like she was a sloppy drunk with tear soaked hair that was stuck to her face. She was a hot mess for sure.

At one point one of the officers named Pete, asked the woman what her husband’s name was. She said he wasn’t her husband. It was just her boyfriend and his name was, “Robert Bobby.”

I couldn’t resist and said, “Did you say Ricky Bobby?”

“No, Robert Bobby,” she replied.

Without hesitation, Pete said, “I thought she said Ricky Bobby.”

I almost lost it when Heather, the other officer said, “I thought it was Ricky too.” I had to turn away because I saw my son start to laugh.

For the next twenty minutes she attempted to tell us about Robert. Every so often I would ask if she meant Ricky. She gave me an exasperated look every time she heard Ricky and corrected me by saying, “No, it’s Robert.”

It finally came to a climax when she attempted to call Robert on the phone, but he hung up on her. I asked if she was calling Ricky Bobby. She got frustrated and said, “Why do you guys keep calling him Ricky? Does he have another name I don’t know about?”

I turned around again because I almost busted up. I was just hopping my son wouldn’t look at me and make me laugh.

When we finally left the motel room my son said, “She obviously never saw the movie.”

Thanks Ricky Bobby for making that call so memorable. We now have a new inside joke for the rest of our careers.

“If ain’t first, you’re last.” – Famous quote from the real Ricky Bobby. Not Robert Bobby.

When your street race doesn’t go as planned

Posted on June 5, 2015 by Badge415

Sometimes I’ll be on a call and another officer will ask me if the story is going to make the blog. It’s funny to me because I’m usually thinking the same thing.

The other night I was on a stop and I said to myself, “This has blog written all over it.” I was even tempted to tell the driver he was going to make the blog because of his stupidity. I also wanted to tell him he was one of the reasons why I have new stories every night.

Let me back up so I can explain how I met Mr. Speed Racer with no brain.

I was stopped at a red light thinking about all the reports I had to write because of the collision epidemic that my city sometimes suffers from. That’s when I heard the sound of skidding tires and an engine revving. A few seconds later I saw a car approaching from the opposite direction, which was clearly the winner of a race. The loser was in the next lane bringing up the rear.

I made a turn and waited for Mr. Speed Racer to go by me. Even though I was busy, Mr. Speed Racer needed some attention because of his lack of decision making skills.

I stopped him and asked, “Why do you think I stopped you?”

“You think I was racing,” replied Mr. Speed Racer.

“What would make you think that?”

He went on to tell me the other driver challenged him so that was why he was racing. He also told me he had been cited for racing a few years ago and the ticket cost him $800. I asked him why in the world he would race again if it cost him that much. Mr. Speed Racer told me it was because the other driver challenged him.

It was clear to me that this 24 year old didn’t see the big picture in life. It made me wonder how I could provide world class customer service to this individual so he would see the error of his ways.

I went back to my car and did a records check on his name. I was surprised my computer didn’t freeze up and crash from all of the times he had been stopped and had his car impounded. I was also surprised to find out he had been stopped by our department at least ten times.

I did some research on his stops and I saw my name attached to one of them from May of 2007. It turned out I stopped him and impounded his car for driving while unlicensed eight years ago. What are the odds of that?

I went back up the Mr. Speed Racer and asked him how many times his car had been impounded. He said, “A lot.”

“I impounded your car too.”

He looked at me and said, “You did?”

After I was done with the stop, I knew Mr. Speed Racer was going to be immortalized in a Badge415 blog story. He’s a perfect example of people who make poor decisions and wonder why the police are talking to them.

I’m pretty sure Mr. Speed Racer will lose his license again after my stop. And I’m really sure he’ll get his car impounded again too.

Who knows, maybe I’ll be the one who stops him again and we’ll have Mr. Speed Racer 2.0 blog story. I’m confident he’ll never learn his lesson until he hurts himself or someone else.

Until then, be on the lookout for Mr. Speed Racer and other people like him. Unfortunately they don’t care and never learn their lesson.