I am a sergeant for a medium size police department in the great Pacific NW. I have been a cop for over 20 years and I love the job. My partner and I have been together for almost fifteen years. We have a cat (or better yet he allows us to live in his house and serve him). As I am new to blogging I don’t really know what I will be writing about but if you find anything of interest let me know. If not let me know that too.
This has been a long work week. It always seems that way when I do more administrative work. I didn’t get out on the road much this last week. Meetings, interviews and lots of paperwork kept me in the office.
One of the hats I wear as a sergeant is the equipment, uniforms and kind of the logistics officer. We recently promoted two new sergeants so I had to get them set up in their offices, get phone extensions, cell phones, pagers, uniforms, computers, business cards…. the list seems endless. I think I have a pretty good handle on it now but I am sure something has been overlooked.
It’s my weekend now, three days for myself and I am heading out to fire up my Massey Ferguson tractor and get some work done around the property. I also have to haul it over to our friends house as I promised to cut down some brush for them. I hope the weather holds up and it doesn’t rain too much.
Saturday is the Pride parade in Portland. I plan on getting down to check everyone out and hopefully see some friends. Hopefully I will get some good photos to share. Well better get off my butt and get with it…..
For sure one of Portland’s FinestEvery year I try to get into Portland for the Grand Floral Parade at the Rose Festival. I don’t go so much to watching the parade. I go to see old friends that in many cases I haven’t seen since the last parade and hopefully meet a few new. I also go to watch all the interesting people a large festival like this attracts. I always take my camera and love to catch people being themselves.
I don’t think I saw a third of the parade this last Saturday. I usually try to head out of town before the end. I hate all the traffic, it’s always an incredible mess with over a hundred thousand people all trying to get home at once. This year was very festive though, and the weather was great with no rain and a little cloud cover. Often it rains but Oregonians are use to that
2006 Rose Queen Camille Clark
I got my long awaited tattoo yesterday. I had been working with an artist named Willow from Two Chicks Tattoos (see My First Tattoo) who was working on a design with a bear theme. She worked up a piece for me and although it was very good it didn’t jump out and grab me. It was a bear in a dream catcher and although I wanted some Native American influence in the tattoo it just wasn’t what I wanted.
Just by chance while I was researching tats on the internet I came across one that I really loved. In fact when I saw it instantly knew it was the one I wanted. The original tattoo was all black/gray art work and I wanted some color in my tattoo so I touched up the picture in Photoshop and then took it off to Willow for her to look at. She loved it too and after a couple of adjustments we agreed on the design.
So yesterday I lost my virginity, well at least as far as getting my first tattoo. I lost my other virginity so long ago I can hardly remember. I had been a bit anxious the last couple of days but when I got to the shop I was pretty relaxed. I arrived about 1:30 and after signing all the disclaimers, hold harmless and warnings that your arm may fall off, we got going about 2pm. By 5pm we were finished. It wasn’t as painful as I guessed it would be, I guess I would describe it as uncomfortable. I had heard so many different opinions from people about the pain level that I just tried to put it out of my mind and not think much about it much. The most discomfort came when she was wiping off the ink and cleaning it up.
The tattoo is a fairly detailed piece and she told me that it may take two sittings but I wanted it all done at one time so I was determined to endure. I will say that at three hours I was about reaching my tolerance level but we got it done.
I think my partner was rather apprehensive about me getting the tattoo but after he saw the completed work he was very pleased. He wanted to come and watch and no doubt taunt me but he had to work so he didn’t get to see it until later that evening when I took the bandage off. I only told a couple of my coworkers that I was getting inked so it will be fun showing it off at work next week.
We promoted two officers to sergeant today. Five people applied. Two were very happy, as for the others, or at least for two of them it was a long, and in the end, very disappointing day. One of the guys was only going through the process for the experience and knew he wouldn’t be selected. The other guys that didn’t make the cut I suspect deep down realized he wasn’t quite ready. As for that third that didn’t make it I know it was an enormous let down.
I talked to most of them through out the day as they were waiting for their turn on the hot seat, the dreaded oral boards. I gave them as much encouragement as I could. I shared what my experience had been during my two times on the interviews. Number three who is one of our detectives was very confident and he had been preparing for the exams and interview very hard. Had he been selected he would have done a very good job. I have to agree with the final selection though and it exactly what I expected.
It is never easy telling someone they didn’t make the grade especially when they are a good employee and your friend. This time it wasn’t my job but I have been there. I saw his face after he came out of the Lt’s office and it told it all. Now we must all help to build him back up, to make him see the good in the experience and help him grow from it. I know he will, he is a good man.
Actually it’s not Adam’s rib, it’s my rib but I had to have a title. I went to the doctor today after a fun weekend of little rest and pain even when I took a deep breath, and well coughing was just delightful. I found that one of my ribs is separated where it joins to the sternum. I guess that would explain why that Good Pain I wrote about isn’t so good anymore. In fact it is down right a nuisance, what with not being able to sleep at night and worst of all now I have to go on light duty at work. What is the moral of this story…. at fifty years old it is probably best not to go at it so hard with at thirty year old in much better shape than myself.
Light duty is both a bane and a blessing. It’s great that you don’t have to sit at home doing nothing when your injured. It is good for the department too since they are at least getting some work out of you. If the injury is like mine from a work related event it helps cut down on their insurance costs. If you get hurt off duty its great because you don’t have to burn up a bunch of sick time. The down side, at least for me is that I don’t get to work my cherished “four ten” shift. It’s back to working regular business hours, eight hours a day five days a week. That’s just not right but I think that is part of their strategy to get people off light duty and back to work.
The doc says I should be okay to go back to work in a week or so but it will be several weeks before I am mended. I guess the cartilage will never reattach to the rib but he says my body will compensate.
I have been think a lot about getting a tattoo but I have been having a very difficult time deciding what I want. Actually I have been contemplating it for many years now. I really like arm bands and Celtic art work. When I first started thinking about it I wanted a Loony Toon cartoon character. I was especially thinking of Taz but the more men I looked at with tattoos the more I saw of Taz and other Loony Toon characters. I want something unique for my self.
I have visited many tattoo shops but most of their stock art work is all the same and just doesn’t excite me. I recently went into a shop called Two Chicks Tattooing which is run by the artist with the lovely name (or moniker) of Willow. I looked through her portfolios and really I liked her work. She had several albums with many picture so I know she has been doing her art for a little bit anyway.
One theme I have been thinking about is a Bear tattoo with something in the Native American genre worked in. My initial Idea came from a temporary tattoo which I bought online at http://www.temptatts4u.com. I have tried quite a few of them to get an idea what I will be happy with. I showed Willow the temporary and asked her if she would draw up something. Today she called me and said she had some art work ready for me to look at. I am excited about seeing it tomorrow. Let you know how it turned out.
Ouch… I hurt today. Last night was a four hour (actually only 3 and a half hour) training class on the carry and use of tactical knifes. We meet at the junior high school’s gym for the training and I must say it was some of the best DT training I have been to in all my years with the department. The officer who ran the class was just trained recently as an instructor and he did a great job. I learned a lot and I am re-thinking my use and carry of a knife at work.
The training was very realistic. We were issued exact replicas of a real tactical knife from Benchmade except the blade was blunt tipped and not sharp. We were trained to use the knife with our weak hand which was very strange at first. I have never even considered using or carrying it in that way. By the end of the class it made perfect sense and was becoming fairly easy to do.
The guy I teamed up with for most of the class is a studly tough powerhouse of a man. He is the type of man I wouldn’t want to get into a fight with but I held my own with him very well. Of course we were told not to go 100 percent but I think most of the times we were going at least 95 percent. A couple of time we may have been going all out but it was fun
Later we were told to switch to a new partner and I worked with one of our female officers. That was a little different as she probably only weighs about 120 pounds. She is also coming off an injury to her hand so fighting with her wasn’t very challenging but it was enlightening. Size does matter….. I hope she never has to get into much of a hand to hand fight with some guy. She better just shoot him.
I bet by tomorrow I will show a lot of bruising. My left hand is quite sore and my chest hurts a lot. When I got home and took a shower I had red marks all over my body from the knife strikes. It is kind of a good pain though, the kind that is there to remind you that you made some gains and learned something. I wish we could to training like that more often. Also wrestleing around with the studdly guys isn’t too bad either.
Quiet is how I would describe my work week so far, that’s common for some holiday weekends. Memorial Day weekend is one of the more quiet I guess, a lot of people are out of town camping or what ever else they are doing. The ones that stay in town seemed to behave fairly well. A lot of traffic today though as people were returning home. Traffic crashes are always a problem and I heard a few on the radio around the county but we were spared any in the city.
I have a great work shift doing ten hours a day, four days a week. Three day weekends are kick ass. My Monday (which is actually Sunday) is just me an my guys with none of the brass around. Not that I don’t like my supervisors, they are great people and wonderful to work for but it is so much quieter when they are not around. On a holiday weekend I get two nice days.
Tomorrow will be another story though. There is always a price to pay and now I will have to cram three days worth of work into the next two. That’s okay, it’s worth it and well getting ten hours of holiday pay is nice too.
This is just something I have had a round for several years. It rings very true in my opinion. Hope everyone had a great Memorial Day……
Cops are human (believe it or not) just like the rest of us. They come in both sexes but mostly male. They come in various sizes. This sometimes depends on whether you are looking for one or trying to hide something. However, they are mostly big.
Cops are found everywhere-on land, on the sea, in the air, on horses, in cars, sometimes in your hair. In spite of the fact “you can’t find one when you need one”, they are usually there when it counts most. The best way to get one is to pick up the phone.
Cops deliver lectures, babies, and bad news. They are required to have the Wisdom of Solomon, the disposition of a lamb and muscles of steel and are often accused of having a heart to match. He’s the one who rings the doorbell, swallows hard and announces the passing of a loved one; then spends the rest of the day wondering why he ever took such a “crummy” job.
On TV a cop is an oaf who couldn’t find a bull fiddle in a telephone booth. In real life he’s expected to find a little blonde boy “about so high” in a crowd of half million people. In fiction, he gets help from private eyes, reporters, and “who dun-it fans”. In real life, mostly all he gets from the public is “I didn’t see nuttin'”.
When he serves a summons, he’s a monster. If he lets you go, he’s a doll. To little kids, he’s either a friend or a bogeyman, depending on how parents feel about it. He works “around the clock”, split shifts, Sundays and holidays, and it always kills him when a joker says, “Hey, tomorrow is Election Day, I’m off, let’s go fishing.”(that’s the day he works 20 hours).
A cop is like the little girl, who, when she was good, was very, very good, but, when she was bad, was horrid. When a cop is good, “he’s getting paid for it.” When he makes a mistake, “He’s a grafter, and that goes for the rest of them too.” When he shoots a stick-up man he’s a hero, except when the stick-up man is “only a kid, anybody could of seen that.”
Lots of them have homes, some covered with ivy, but most of them covered with mortgages. If he drives a big car, he’s a chiller, a little car, “who’s he kidding?” His credit is good; this is very helpful, because his salary isn’t. Cops raise lots of kids’ most of them belong to other people.
A cop sees more misery, bloodshed, trouble, and sunrises than the average person. Like the postman, cops must be out in all kinds of weather. His uniforms change with the climate, but his outlook on life remains about the same; mostly blank, but hoping for a better world.
Cops like days off, vacations, and coffee. They don’t like auto horns, family fights, and anonymous letter writers. They have unions, but they can’t strike. They must be impartial, courteous, and always remember the slogan “At your service”. This is sometimes hard, especially when a character reminds him, “I’m a taxpayer, I pay your salary”.
Cops get medals for saving lives, stopping runaway horses, and shooting it out with bandits (once in a while his widow gets the medal). But sometimes, the most rewarding moments comes when, after some small kindness to an older person, he feels the warm hand clasp, looks into grateful eyes and hears “Thank you and God bless you, son”.
– Anonymous