Whatcha Gonna do?

Cops
By tv emmet.
When I’m worried and I can’t sleep…I watch “Cops.”
When I feel like my life is a dead end and there is little to look forward to…I watch “Cops.” I just love that “Bad Boys” theme song.
If I am really down, I watch two, maybe three shows. The show seems to be on 24 hours a day, seven days a week. If “Cops” isn’t on then I watch the companion shows of high speed chases across the globe.
It’s much cheaper than hiring a psychiatrist. After an hour or so, I decide that being a cop might be the worst job in the world. It seems like everyone you deal with is drunk and/or hostile, probably shirtless, on probation and carrying guns and/or dope in their car or house. As I understand it, the culprits have to sign a release to appear on television, shirtless and drunk, handcuffed in the back of a police car. Who would sign such a release? These culprits give drinking a very, very bad name.
“Bad boys, bad boys…”
Cobb Manor becomes a palace after an hour or so of watching the police invade the culprit’s homes with broken furniture, broken windows (another fight) and clothes and food strewn around the room. On most shows, each couple (married or not) has just finished a few rounds late at night (for the hundredth time) and someone is going off to the jail. More and more it seems the woman is to blame.
I am sure that the culprits have occasionally escaped the police either on foot or behind the wheel. We never see those. I am amazed when an overweight officer manages to catch a fleet young culprit in some back yard. If here is ever an argument for the use of Tasers, this show is it. When the police approach some huge, angry culprit, the Taser ends the confrontation in a very quick minute. Without the Taser, you must expect that the culprit would be shot a few times.
Likewise, I think dash cams have saved a few lives among the culprit set. The cops are always furious, with guns drawn after a high speed chase. The longer the chase the angrier the cops seem to get. They arrest the driver with guns drawn and pound the guy into the street. I often wonder what would happen in the camera was not running.
I have this mental image of guys (some gals) gathered around a jail television set, watching “Cops” and waiting for their segment to come on. “That’s me! Watch this” This is where the cop maces me and I drop to the street, crying!”
“Bad boys, bad boys….”
I have been in Maine State Prison dozens of times, as a reporter in the midcoast area. I never had any inclination to stay. The overwhelming feeling of relief when I went back out the door never lessened even after 30 years of visits. It certainly kept all those planned murders on hold. (You know who you are.)
I have been in the back seat of a cruiser just once, when I saw Chief Al and his trusty Lieutenant Metcalf parked in the Knox County Courthouse parking lot. I jumped in the back seat to give them some grief. They looked at me and without a word, got out of the car and walked away. It was then and only then that I remembered that the back doors in a police car are permanently locked. They went into the courthouse and told the pretty court clerk (Blue Eyes) that they finally had me under arrest. I don’t want to repeat that event.
After a Thomaston bank robbery, I pulled up to a Route 1 State Police roadblock. I innocently asked what was going on and the trooper said “Show me your hands.” I certainly did, as my voice raised several octaves. I explained that I was a reporter looking for information on the robbery. I don’t want to repeat that event, either.
After watching a late night “Cops” show, or two, I drift off, fat and happy in my Cobb Manor bed. Life could be worse, like handcuffed, shirtless in the back of a police car.
“Whatcha gonna do when they come for YOU?”