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| Me pretending not to be afraid of guns |
“Visit with the Po-po”
Over the years I’ve always had a decent relationship with Johnny Law.
You know, Cops, Fuzz, The Heat, Smokey, Po-po, Five-0… Oh yeah, we’re on
good terms.
In fact, I’ve only gotten one ticket in my 47 years of driving. Back in my college days, I was doing 60 in a 50. Had I not slapped my forehead the minute I saw Nacagodoches’ Finest, I don’t think he would’ve pulled me over. Best not to react guiltily when making eye contact.
Almost 30 years ago, I did get stopped for speeding, but wasn’t ticketed. You wanna know what’s weird? I ran into a officer awhile back who claimed to have stopped me. And, I didn’t even bring it up. That’s weird.
I remember he looked at my driver’s license and said, “Are you planning on writing about this?” I didn’t know the preferred answer to that, so I just stammered. He then looked up and noticed a car coming in the distance. He apparently didn’t like what he saw.
The officer handed me my driver’s license and told me to slow it down. Then he said, “Get outta here.” You know what happened next? He walked right in the middle of the road and pointed at the car that was headed toward him. Once he got the driver’s attention, he signaled for him to pull over. The driver did, too.
I would’ve had some serious intestinal problems had I seen a Law Dawg standing in the middle of the road pointing at me. That’s an image that commands respect. One reason I didn’t attend the police academy.
By the way, Brad Meyer is responsible for introducing me to topic of law enforcement. Two restaurant reviews back, Brad told me that we needed to hurry ‘cause he had to get back in time to attend an open house at the County Sheriff facility. I doubt he called it an open house, but I only started listening when he said something about a Swat Team.
Instead of driving Bradford back to The Courier, I begged him to let me tag along. Since we were in my car, he agreed.
What a great outing. I got to handle a lot of good stuff. They let me aim a 50 caliber sniper-looking rifle that was as long as I am tall. It weighed a ton. The officer who was explaining the weaponry told me that the giant gun was not nearly as accurate as the shorter-barreled weapon setting next to it.
He said some other important sounding stuff, but I didn’t listen ‘cause I was too busy looking through the telescopic lens, trying to find objects to pretend-shoot.
I also got to go into the big truck where the mayor and all the top-level officers meet when they’re negotiating with bank robbers. Or they’re trying to prevent a terrorist bomb from blowing up the city. Hey, I’ve seen the movies.
Let me tell you, the area inside one of those truck/trailer things is huge. Monitors and technical stuff are all over the place. I imagined being in a movie with Denzel Washington where we’re talking tough to some terrorists.
I also got the lowdown on the police motorcycles. I was listening to a sergeant with the Sheriff’s department explain about what’s involved in being a MOPO, when I noticed that the guy talking was Kevin. I taught the kid at Oak Ridge. Only he’s not so much a kid anymore. In fact, Sgt. Kevin Ray is one of those guys who could stand in the middle of the road and make you stop right in your tracks.
In fact, I’ve only gotten one ticket in my 47 years of driving. Back in my college days, I was doing 60 in a 50. Had I not slapped my forehead the minute I saw Nacagodoches’ Finest, I don’t think he would’ve pulled me over. Best not to react guiltily when making eye contact.
Almost 30 years ago, I did get stopped for speeding, but wasn’t ticketed. You wanna know what’s weird? I ran into a officer awhile back who claimed to have stopped me. And, I didn’t even bring it up. That’s weird.
I remember he looked at my driver’s license and said, “Are you planning on writing about this?” I didn’t know the preferred answer to that, so I just stammered. He then looked up and noticed a car coming in the distance. He apparently didn’t like what he saw.
The officer handed me my driver’s license and told me to slow it down. Then he said, “Get outta here.” You know what happened next? He walked right in the middle of the road and pointed at the car that was headed toward him. Once he got the driver’s attention, he signaled for him to pull over. The driver did, too.
I would’ve had some serious intestinal problems had I seen a Law Dawg standing in the middle of the road pointing at me. That’s an image that commands respect. One reason I didn’t attend the police academy.
By the way, Brad Meyer is responsible for introducing me to topic of law enforcement. Two restaurant reviews back, Brad told me that we needed to hurry ‘cause he had to get back in time to attend an open house at the County Sheriff facility. I doubt he called it an open house, but I only started listening when he said something about a Swat Team.
Instead of driving Bradford back to The Courier, I begged him to let me tag along. Since we were in my car, he agreed. What a great outing. I got to handle a lot of good stuff. They let me aim a 50 caliber sniper-looking rifle that was as long as I am tall. It weighed a ton. The officer who was explaining the weaponry told me that the giant gun was not nearly as accurate as the shorter-barreled weapon setting next to it.
He said some other important sounding stuff, but I didn’t listen ‘cause I was too busy looking through the telescopic lens, trying to find objects to pretend-shoot.
I also got to go into the big truck where the mayor and all the top-level officers meet when they’re negotiating with bank robbers. Or they’re trying to prevent a terrorist bomb from blowing up the city. Hey, I’ve seen the movies.
Let me tell you, the area inside one of those truck/trailer things is huge. Monitors and technical stuff are all over the place. I imagined being in a movie with Denzel Washington where we’re talking tough to some terrorists.
I also got the lowdown on the police motorcycles. I was listening to a sergeant with the Sheriff’s department explain about what’s involved in being a MOPO, when I noticed that the guy talking was Kevin. I taught the kid at Oak Ridge. Only he’s not so much a kid anymore. In fact, Sgt. Kevin Ray is one of those guys who could stand in the middle of the road and make you stop right in your tracks.
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| Kevin Ray next to a guy asking stupid questions |
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| With my friend Bob Berry |
Kevin pointed out some of the electronic features on his motorcycle, but wouldn’t let me ride it. I could sit on it, but he wouldn’t let his old teacher ride it. Sheesh.
I also ran across Sgt. Bob Berry, The Courier’s Po-C. (Police columnist.) Either the Conroe Police work closely with the Sheriff’s Department, or Bob was there to steal some of the equipment. Just a guess.
The piece of equipment I really wanted to see was the drone. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find it. I just imagine that the Top Bull got a load of me playing around with the rifles and put the word out on me. – “Hey, Theo, keep that idiot away from the drone.”
Too soon, Brad walked up and said, “You ready to go, Kojak?” I told him I was waiting for my complimentary Sheriff’s badge. Brad didn’t even smile. – When someone calls you “dillweed” is that a bad thing? “You dillweed.” Doesn’t have a good sound to it.
End
Good article Moke, I can just see you there.
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