Every story needs an ending

I've moved on from writing about my life. I guess it's only fair to the few who actually were interested in my stories to close the chapter properly. I've been thinking about doing this for a while but, life seems to get in the way of things that rate less important then others. You know how it is.

I still work for the same department. A lot of smaller changes have come about and in a lot of ways it's a better place then it was just a few years ago. Of course, it's not without it's problems. There are still things that bother me tremendously that could be solved with something as simple as terminating an incompetent, uncaring, vindictive, unstable employee. I'm told there's paperwork in to do just that in this case. I don't know how valid that is, I only hear back channel chatter. The relationship and trust between the patrolmen and the supervisors still isn't there. It's a slight bit better, but still severely lacking.

About a year and a half ago I was rushed to the emergency room by ambulance for what I thought was a heart attack. A thousand tests later and multiple visits to multiple specialists offices and I was told I experienced a panic attack. Not a run of the mill panic attack, but a 10 on a scale of 10, terror driven, heart racing, shock inducing incident. All the years of acute stress, constant shifts of hyper-awareness, and general unhappiness had caught up with me and manifested itself in the only way my body could figure out how to deal with it - anxiety. I can't begin to tell you how upsetting and scary that time in my life was. I've never dealt with anxiety in this fashion and I didn't want to be forced out of my job and be a pill popping zombie.

I was lucky enough to find a great doctor nearby who had worked for a number of years with the state police hostage negotiators and tactical units. He knows what police work is, the dirty underbelly of society that people pretend doesn't exist. I'm thankful to have met him and continue to see him periodically. With his help I was able to get a good hold on the anxiety, and all without taking a single medication. Aside from a few close friends at work, they don't know my issue and my doctor has promised me he'll keep it that way.

I also don't think I would've been able to do it without the love and support of my wife. Yeah, I didn't see that coming either, haha. But she's the woman of my dreams and the best thing to ever happen to me. I won't go into too much about her, since I need to protect her identity here as well.

So that's basically it. Hopefully that gives you some closure if you've been reading all these years and still care. So, as I ride off into the sunset, I'll leave you with this: Treat each other well, enjoy the little things in life, and be thankful for what you have, every single day.

All the best,

~Moe

For RLM

Close yet far

Complacency is a daily struggle.

Broken internal

I talked to a doctor about the nightmares, sleepless nights, and social anxiety I've been experiencing of late. He believes I'm experiencing a form of PTSD.

Fantastic.

Funny, but sad

The sheer number of fucktards in this world this country my jurisdiction is giving me PTSD.

Southland

I've been invited to screen the upcoming Season 2 premiere of Southland, which I've to admit, I'm thrilled about. I loved the first season, that aired on NBC, even though it was short. As with most dramatic programming, the season finale ended with a cliffhanger. Of course when the dopes at NBC decided the program wasn't coming back, I was pissed. It seems like everytime there's a decent, well done cop show, it gets yanked. Remember Boomtown? Another NBC programming mistake . Seems like they're making a lot of those lately (I'm with Conan.)

Anyway, someone with a brain over at TNT saw the show for what it is and picked up the program much to the rejoice of it's fans. They began re-airing the first season in January and are leading right into the second season, March 2.

Here's a little teaser of the show if you're not familar.

Hope

I'm embarrassed to admit that this blog has become a dumping ground for all the disappointment, contempt, and hate I have for society as a whole. I pursued this career not to fight the public, but to be the rock that they went to when their whole world dropped out on them. A handful of years experience later and I feel like I lost my way, only didn't know it until recently.

Somehow I stumbled on the website Gives Me Hope. Fourteen or so pages later of reading stories of small and large acts of kindness and compassion and I was ashamed that I didn't do more things like I'd read.

I share this in hopes that 1) if you're burnt out and lost faith in the human race, it may help you too, and 2) to serve as a reminder to myself. From now on, I'm going to work to make a difference every day; small victories through small acts. I know it's no small feat, but I've got to try.

Today

Today I laughed.

Today I cried.

Today I was grateful I could still feel.

Idiocracy

Today, I was more or less accused of fixing tickets. My own tickets. That I issued.

After embarrassing the superior officer in front of other subordinates(You want to come at me publicly, I'm going to come at you publicly), I told him the next time he came at me with an accusation like that he'd better have solid proof or a damn good attorney. Who's got two thumbs and is on the command staff's shit list? This guy.

I'm not sure what made me angrier - The fact I was being accused of being dirty, or the fact that this person is a supervisor. The very first thing that popped into my head was this:

"Can you believe that fucking retard is in charge of people?" sums it up pretty well.

Don't insult my intelligence

Honesty goes a long way in my book and as such can often be rewarded. For example, if I initiate a traffic stop and ask the driver if they knew why I pulled them over, their honesty can earn them a verbal or written warning. This is of course, dependant on the crime. Obviously I'm not going to verbally warn a driver I stopped for suspected DUI. "Honesty is the best policy" also works outside the traffic stop.

Frequently, I'll ask questions of suspects that I already know the answer to in order to gauge their honesty. Recently I responded to a call of someone trespassing. In and of itself, not a huge deal, right? Well, a guy matching the description takes off in front of me and I give chase on foot. He quickly gives up and my body is grateful. I really don't like to run. Anyway, another unit arrives and I've got the guy cuffed and I'm starting my search while I'm asking him questions. I tell him to be honest with me. During this conversation, he lies like a bed.

• "I'm not the guy you're looking for." Funny, you match every single descriptor given.
• "My name is Greg Smith." Well, your first name is Greg, but every piece of ID in your wallet says your last name is otherwise.
• "I don't use narcotics." Hmm, you've got a prescription for Methadone in your pocket.
• "I've never been arrested. " The rap sheet I just printed in the office says you have.

So, since he clearly demonstrated that he wasn't honest and certainly wasn't apologetic, he got charged with everything. Had he been honest from the get go, I would have given him a warning and completed some documenting paperwork just in case it occurred again. Honestly.

I am an angry cop

I read an article on officer.com last night that I could relate with.
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The Angry Cop - Part I
Understanding the threat from within
Posted: January 22nd, 2009 07:50 AM EDT
MICHAEL WASILEWSKI & ALTHEA OLSON, LCSWHuman Factor Contributors

Are you an angry cop?

Now, we are not asking, "Do you get angry sometimes, because of isolated circumstances that could get to anyone?" No, what we are asking is this: "Are you an angry cop? Is your job, because of what you see or experience on a day-to-day basis, or because of the pressure and politics you encounter in your agency or as a member of the law enforcement profession, turning you into someone for whom anger is a constant companion?"

Be honest, and also know that if you answered Yes outright, or suspect that you may be on the path to becoming an angry cop, that this does not indicate a character defect. You are not alone... not by a long shot.

I love being a police officer; it is just this place I hate!
This job is definitely not what I expected. If I could do it over again, I would do something else. What can I do about it now, though? It is too late to change.
It is not the idiots and jerks on the street I worry about. I can handle them. It is the idiots and jerks who run this department you need to watch out for!
I shoulda been a fireman. Everybody freakinging loves firemen.
I used to think what we did mattered. Now I know none of it mattered. It is all just a waste of time.

Do any of the above statements sound familiar? Have you heard these, or similar comments, voiced by your colleagues? Have they come out of your own mouth, or bounced around in your mind? These are just some of the many comments commonly made by angry cops. While even the most upbeat officer may occasionally think or make a comment like these, it can be a problem when the attitudes and beliefs embodied by such statements become ingrained in who you are and how you perceive your job, your world, and yourself.

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Read the rest of the article here.

Yes, I'm an angry cop.

Listen, numbnuts -

You're not smarter than me. Even if I were hung over and half asleep, you still wouldn't outsmart me. So why try?

Don't tell me you haven't been drinking when you smell like you fell into a vat while on the Anheuser-Bush tour. If that weren't clue enough, the half empty beer by your side and 4 cold ones in the bag next to that pretty much give you away.

Don't tell me you haven't been arrested when you know you have. I can check these things out, dipshit! By the way, your suspended license usually doesn't exude innocence.

Thanks for telling me that your hand is "busted." No, I'm not taking the handcuffs off. Yes, I will try to make sure that I don't close it in the car door when I shut it.

It's fine that you don't want me to put a seat belt on you. My department doesn't have a policy on that. However, you give up your right to bitch, whine, or cry when you get waffled because I have to stop short.

Don't ask me to cut you a break after looking me in the eye and lying to my face. I gave you the opportunity to take some responsibility and be a man. You blew it and that's not my fault. I will not coddle you. I don't owe you anything.

Finally, you're 45 years old. Sobbing like a baby isn't going to get you anything except covered in your own snot. It's hard to wipe your nose when your hands are cuffed behind you back. I don't care that your girlfriend is a bitch and this is somehow her fault. I don't care that you just lost your job. I don't care that you don't have the cash to pay the fines and you won't show up in court, resulting in a warrant for your arrest. I'm not doing this to spite you. I'm doing my job. I didn't make you take a swing at that woman. It wasn't me who got you drunk in public. I didn't lie to the cops.

You made your bed pal - Now you lay in it.

Fool me once, shame on you

A few months ago, I responded to the call of a shoplifter in custody at a local store. Generally, I really dislike these calls. Usually the dollar amount of merchandise is so low that it ends up being a 6th degree larceny which the punishment in court equates to sitting in time out for twenty minutes. Stupid court system. There really is no justice. Anyway, my point is the guy never jams a plasma TV into his shirt.

I arrive on scene and talk to the manager and decrepit looking black man in the manager's office. The man was caught with two bags of plain M&Ms and a can of potted meat. Gross. The guy didn't even have enough taste to steal something that would make a person's mouth water. The manager agrees to not press charges if the guy pays for the items. Homeless guy pulls out a shiny new brown leather wallet and pays for the items. Strangely enough, the wallet is empty except for the few crinkled dollar bills and the guy's State ID card. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I ask "Did you steal the damn wallet too?"

Guy adamantly denies it and the store manager says he doesn't recognize it as one of his. I read the guy the riot act and advise him to stay the hell away from this store before clearing.

Fast forward about an hour, when I get sent back to the store to speak with the manager. It turns out, the wallet was stolen and the manager found the empty box in the aisle. Now I'm pissed. I'm pissed at the manager for not know what products he carries in his tiny ass store, I'm pissed at the guy for lying to me, and I'm pissed at myself that I gave the guy the benefit of the doubt. I round up a backup unit and head to the shelter, his last known address. Finding him, I say "Give me the wallet."

He pulls the wallet out which funny enough now contains every bit of his life in it. Turning it upside down, I empty the contents onto the floor saying "I can't believe you sat there, looked me in the eye, and lied to my face about stealing the wallet."

"I swear to God I didn't take it."

Taking a step back, I said "Don't say shit like that when I'm standing next to you. I don't want to get hit by the lightning that strikes your lying ass down." This of course caused the backup officer to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle a laugh.

I left the man to pick up his property with the warning that he was now on my radar and even the slightest fuck up would lead to his demise before heading back to the store to return the wallet. I can't say if he took me seriously, but I haven't seen or heard from him since.