Thursday, March 02, 2006

Bored Bored Bored....

I've been complaining all week about how boring things have been.

What happened?

Around the house I burned brush, moved big rocks for my lovely wife's rock garden and graveled the parking area. We also re-explored each other in a way we haven't in a while. I taught my son the target areas for shooting big game and worked with him on power generation, striking and awareness- training that I didn't get until I was much older than he is now.

At work, very quiet. A primary source of boredom. Some good conversations with a schizophrenic; interviewing a developmentally disabled young man who may be the victim of fraud; interviewing several disciplinary inmates. Found some contraband where an inmate had inscribed a quote from an author who is a friend of mine. E-mailed Steve to let him know he has a fan in jail. Only one decent back-up call, which got me into a room alone with three fighting inmates- who immediately broke it up and sat down when I ordered them to. Did tameshiwara on a ten pound bar of chocolate. Yay.

Outside of work and home- one good workout; taught a weapons retention and DT course for a small town PD and met some cool people; worked out with the erstwhile "Friday student". Took some good hits, but not enough. I know what we need to work on next. Read "Protecting the Gift", "The Zombie Survival Guide" and almost finished Tacitus' "History".

Bored, bored, bored.

Writing- a little editing on the manuscript that's out, a few entries here.


Molly said...

If you were addicted to anything but adrenaline, they'd put you in detox. Bigger and bigger hits, smaller and shorter highs. When was the last time you went climbing? on the coast - in devil's cauldron or somewhere? Or caving somewhere new?

The Moody Minstrel said...

Greetings from Japan, Rory!

I'm checking out your blog for the first time!

I read about the chocolate bar on your wife's NaNoPubYe blog. That sounds nasty. Dangerous to both blood sugar levels and wrists...ouch! That thing should be classified as a WMD.

Have fun with the rock garden. That sounds like a good way to spend a weekend!

Kami said...

Yes, helping your wife with the rock garden is a *great* way to spend the weekend. I think you should do that a lot! :D

Anonymous said...

Now you've made me do this - tell you about one of my days; it'll show you why I became a cop at 50.

Briefing at 1410 - T. brought in the big woofy doofus we all hope will be a scumbag-biting patrol dog. We'll see -- . Briefed the boys on a purse-snatch sting I planned at Wal-Mart - floor plans, personnel assignments, comms, UC and takedown boys. Briefing cut short by a call of an unwanted at a bus shelter in Troutdale. Pulled up 10 minutes later to see a big guy pushing a Troutdale officer toward the street. A 5-second session of electro-therapy convinced the drunk otherwise, and off he goes to detox with a Tri-Met officer. A couple of traffic stops - warnings for driving stupid in an intelligent-driving zone and then meet B. for coffee at Starbucks. Just as my butt hits the seat, a call in my district of a shoplifter in custody. This is usually an easy one - I don't bother writing up a case when the merchandise has been recovered - the store 86s them and off I go, but this time a baggie of meth fall from the guy's pants as I'm patting him down. More searching, consent to search the car (it's a shame what a dirtbag can do to a classic Cadillac), more meth and paraphenalia. He's already been down in the County so a ticket and he walks. I'm sure he'll go to court - yeah, sure ... Just thinking about dinner when a call comes out about two guys running behind some apartments with guns. Zip over there and find they're a couple of teens with airsoft guns - but you shoulda seen the look on their faces when real guns were pointed at them. Read them the riot act, turn them over to the parents and soothe a homeowner. Another traffic stop on a grandma and two kids in booster seats - she's 62 and has three twenty-year-old warrants. Off to jail she goes. I left the kids duct-taped to a phone pole until she can pick them up. Down at booking, talk to some of the knuckle-draggers about one of our own with a self-inflicted gunshot wound; my patter is part conversation, part commiseration, part counseling. The risks in this job, on both sides, are real, from within and without. Communication, internal (self-talk) and external is life-saving. A couple hours of paperwork, an eviction, cuppla restraining order and civil paper serves and and some routine cover (called backup in the jail) action rounds out an evening. It is a distinct, almost sexual, pleasure to peel off 40 pounds of gear and take a shower. On the short drive home, try and stop looking at license plates and pedestrians, try and turn from cop to civilian. Somewhat successful. Until tomorrow.

Rory said...

Kevin- It's an honor. Poke around and you'll see some of what goes on in my head.
Molly- It's not evn adrenaline any more so much as duty. I can't recall the last time I had a 'hit' or a 'high'. It's just a job, kid.
Mac (I assume, didn't know you were doing sting planning)- sounds like a good busy day. Miss you, old friend.