S.O.S.

Somebody help me. I've been kidnapped by the Soul Patrol! I'm being held in some backwards assed shanty in Alabama by the disciples of that prematurely-gray haired crooner . Send help.

I know, I know. I've been M.I.A., again. Been busy guys. Work, as always, won't let me have much downtime. And the downtime I've had lately I've had to dedicate toward getting things arranged for my upcoming move. Ugh. This is my last weekend here in the Bethesda pad. I'm gonna miss this place, but I'm looking forward to moving on to another, slightly more permanent arrangement. Plus, my new house is bigger and has a much bigger back yard. Yes, that translates into P-Dogg is throwing a party sometime around the end of the summer. Everyone is invited. BYOB, deadbeats.

Gotta run, time to go to work, again.

One For The Good Guys

Here I was thinking that this week at work wouldn't be too bad since I took Monday off to play some golf. A four-day work week. That should be simple enough. WRONG!

We got slammed this week. I arrested two people Tuesday afternoon on gun charges. It was part of an on-going investigation I'm doing with Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). The ICE guys are a lot of fun to work with. But I'll get into that another time.

Wednesday was just all around busy with paperwork and junk like that (I could barely see my desk), but at least I managed to get out at a respectable hour and made it to Happy Hour.

Yesterday was non-stop. Early yesterday morning some fuckwad decided it would be a good idea to hit a Deputy Sheriff with his car in the parking garage of the courthouse. Fortunately the deputy wasn't seriously hurt (treated and released from the hospital). The asshole that did it was already a known violent offender and it was all a matter of time before we found him. When we did find him, which was around mid-afternoon, he led us on a brief chase (God forbid you just give up), and then slammed into a few cars before he was finally caught. In addition to already being wanted for armed robbery, he added attempted first degree murder and first degree assault on a law enforcement officer to his resume. Swell guy, indeed.

Anyhow, I found it funny that local TV news reporter Darcy Spencer, who is freakishly short, by the way, was on the scene as quickly as she was. She managed to get there with her camera crew before some of the cops did. Nice work Darcy. So, of course, I managed to get my mug on the TV news last night. I guess the 5 or so seconds I appear in the background makes me a celebrity since my phone started ringing off the hook from friends calling to say that they saw me. Yeah, I'll be hiring an agent this afternoon and joining the Screen Actors Guild on Monday.

If anyone cares to see it, you can check it out at www.nbc4.com and click on the video for the story "Man Arrested After Deputy Struck With Car." And for those of you who don't know what I look like, the only hint you'll get is that I'm tall and I'm not wearing a uniform. That should narrow it down. No autographs, please.

Oh, and as an aside, today marks my 12 year anniversary in law enforcement. Where has the time gone? Seems like only yesterday that I was a snot-nosed rookie out writing traffic tickets. Oh, wait, yesterday was much more exciting than that.

I'm All About A Rant

You know, despite what anyone might think, I'm not always that negative a guy. I do, at times, try to see the positive in things. For example, I played golf today, drank several tasty beers and now I'm watching the hockey game while chowing down on some of the best buffalo wings on the planet. Now if that's not positive, I don't know what is.

Having said that, I do feel the need to make some remarks about an article I read in the news today.

I read a piece about how Army troops have been deployed to the U.S. / Mexico border in and attempt to curtail the illegal border crossings. Well, "officially," the troops are there to do various other tasks such as road repair, and the like, but are not permitted to detain migrants. Right, we're really going to send military troops to the border in order to fix some roadways. Sure. But you know what? I don't care what kind of ridiculous reason is given. I'm glad they're there and I'm glad that they're having some impact on the illegal crossings.

Let me tell you folks, I deal with illegals EVERY SINGLE DAY. And that's no exaggeration. I've arrested illegals for all kinds of stuff ranging from misdemeanor theft to felony assault and attempted murder. I've said this before, and I'll say it again ('cause I actually still mean it). I have no problems with "Hard Working Julio" who wants to make a better life for him and his family. I could care less about his immigration status. That is until Julio decides to be an incredible fucking asshole. You know, get incredibly drunk, start a fight and stab some other dude in the left eye (yeah, that's kind of happened before - sorry for being so graphic). I have a huge problem with Julio when he acts like that.

My point (I, do, occasionally, have one), is this. People actually had the nerve to complain that the troops' presence at the border crossing was really deterring the immigration. Really? You don't say? Um, perhaps I'm totally missing the point here, but, um, wasn't that the whole fucking point?! Why do people feel the need to complain about steps being taken to make sure that people don't go breaking laws? And it's not even that I'm some big flag waving, incredibly zealous, patriot. I'm really not. I love my country, but I also love good common sense.

I just couldn't imagine moving to a foreign country and expecting them to bend over backwards to accommodate me and my American friends. If I gathered an ass-load of my friends and family together and decided to move to Prauge, we would most certainly learn Czech. Why? Because that's the fucking language of the country we've decided to live in! If we decided to pack up and move to San Salvador, the same principal would apply. I guess what I'm saying is this: If I decided to sneak into a country and set up house, and the national language is something other than English, I would make every effort to learn the language of the land. Sure, it's bad enough that I entered the country illegally in the first place, I wouldn't make things significantly worse by insisting that the natives speak my language instead of theirs. My hypocrisy only goes but so far.

The rant, and the first intermission, is over. Go in peace.

The Name Game

OK, I couldn't possibly make this up if I tried. Funny and scary all at the same time.

I was sent to investigate a child neglect complaint - which, of course, isn't funny. According to our complainant, his baby's mother is a crackhead and she leaves their little baby girl alone in the apartment while she's out scoring some rock. So I go over to the apartment to find out what the deal is.

When I get there, I literally arrive at the door at the same time Cracky McCrackhead does. I don't really know where she's coming from, but she looks like a train wreck so I'm assuming she's coming back from a two day bender.

Anyhow, I tell her why I'm there, get a little ghetto attitude from her (which I promptly put a stop to 'cause we all know I'm never in the mood for that shit), and then we go in to check on the little girl. The kid, fortunately, seems fine, healthy, fed, clean clothes, etc. But since the kid's father is making an allegation, I have to collect some information and forward a report to Child Protective Services so that they can follow-up. So here was a part of my conversation with Baby's Mamma:

Me: How old is the child?

Crack Whore: 2

Me: Does anyone else live her besides you and the little girl?

CW: Some of my sister's people stays here sometimes (WTF does that mean??!)

Me: What is the child's name?

CW: Ikea.

Me (perplexed look on face): Ikea? And it's spelled "I-K-E-A?"

CW: Yeah.

Me: You named your daughter after a Scandinavian furniture store?

CW: A what?

Me (shaking head ruefully): Never mind.

That officially takes the #1 spot on my all time fucked up things to name your kid list. That spot was previously held by a young man named "LaBron Da'Vic (I don't even remember what his last name was 'cause it's totally irrelevant).

Kids Are Fun

I'm totally digging being an uncle. It's even better now that my brother and sister in-law have moved back to this area from Pittsburgh. With them living in PA, I hadn't had much of a chance to spend any time with my nephew. And now I have a neice, as well. She's only a few months old and still doesn't quite understand what an Uncle Pat is, but my 2 year old nephew (pictured here in my police car) is all about Uncle Pat.

He's at that age right now where he's completely obsessed with keys and cars. Every time I see him, he must hold on to my car keys. And if he has the chance, he wants to get in my car and play. He totally digs playing in my police car ever since I showed him how to turn the lights and stuff on. I won't show him how to turn on the siren because it's pretty damn loud and I don't need to go scaring the bejezzes out of the poor kid. I had the worst time trying to explain to him that the MDC (mobile data computer) in my police car doesn't play the same Blue's Clues game that my brother apparently has for him on their computer at home. But so as not to toally disappoint the guy, I let him talk on my (turned off) police radio.

My brother told me that me Jack, my nephew, likes to play with his daddy's SWAT stuff, so I got mine out of the trunk so he could have some fun. Unfortunately his little head wouldn't be able to support the weight of my Kevlar helmet, 'cause that would've made for a kick ass picutre, but here he is with Uncle Pat's vest on. Although I'm not sure I want little Jack to go following in the footsteps of his dad and his Uncle Pat and getting into police work, I'm glad that he's having fun playing junior cop. He does look like he's ready to kick in some doors, though, doesn't he? "Freeze scumbag! Bring me some juice!"

Getting Back To Normal

First of all, thanks to everyone who left comments, sent e-mails and the like regarding my dad. I appreciate it.

The past couple of weeks have almost been a blur. Between hospital visits, working a lot and making every second of what little free time I've had count, I sometimes don't know where the time has gone. I had to look at the calendar a bunch of times today before it sunk in that it was actually June.

But things are starting to get back to normal. Or at least the small amount of normalcy that my life usually has. Work is still keeping me exceptionally busy, but at least I'm getting into some really good cases (which, sadly, I can't discuss here right now), so I'll enjoy working on that stuff. The amount of silly bullshit that my bosses have me doing has dropped significantly - I guess the bullshit well is running dry, but I won't complain about that.

With things (sort of) slowing down, I get to look forward to some goof off time. I'm all about that, as we all know. I'm thinking that tomorrow would be a good time to take a few hours to play music really loud, perhaps watch stupid TV, or even do a whole lot of nothing. I'm sure I'll come up with a good way to pass the time.

Anyhow, I should be able to get back to posting on a somewhat regular basis. So stay tuned mi amigos, you never know what happens next.