Wednesday, February 21, 2018
Rural Charms
“Town consists mostly of thieves.”
I passed off the Sheriff’s remark as Law Enforcement Wit.
But a year later, I met with him to decide which particular cheat worth pursuing.
“All too petty,” laughs he. “You know those French guys in those sword-fighting flicks? What they yell, I mean?”
“En Garde!”
“Best you can do.”
Labels: bad town, law enforcement, rural crime
Saturday, January 02, 2016
Vapors
“Borne like a vapor! Can you imagine?
Her hair! Jeannie’s.”
“Yeah, but on the sweet summer air? This is
the desert. That was the Shenandoahs or
something, where you get a bit of blessed
moisture off the trees at twilight! Oh how I miss it!
Don’t you, Gramps?"
Next day, Gramps, retaining the concept of mountain,
found an alley near Commerce Street with a gray-white
smear of one at the end.
Approached Monica, hard in a black pixie cut.
“Jeannie!” implored he.
Suddenly Sheriff Dentz drove at her, red lights spinning.
“Solicitation!”
“I didn’t fuckin say Hello!”
He gave Gramps to Deputy Alice Grimes to un-babble.
“It’s pretty about the hair and everything,” she told
Chuck when he came to pick him up. “Hey! Just
happened to think: my grandma goes to a daycare
over on Painted Horse. Her hair’s not bad, and they play
cards. Poker. For money.”
“He was a shark!”
“No greenhorns there, believe me!”
“You’ve been awful nice. And I don’t wanna drop the ball
from shyness when I meet someone nice. Some coffee or
something tomorrow?”
“No wife?”
“Left a good while back.”
“Had her reasons?”
“Maybe a thousand."
“Here’s my card.”
Gramps only said in the Jeep going home that
he guessed he "went too far, bit haywire," and things
confused him, "but it’s such a lovely lovely song! I can’t
get her outa…”
“Way it goes.”
Labels: dementia, fantasy, gambling, Jeannie With the Light Brown Hair, law enforcement, obsession, prostitution, song, Stephen Foster, Western
Monday, December 21, 2015
Round Up the Usual Western Insanity
St Rita the Mostly Good returned from a bender
in Reno with a nondescript cowboy. Her husband
informed the Sheriff.
He and his deputy, the other Drama Queen of Law
Enforcement, drove him out to the highway and
unholstered their weapons. He took the hint and ran.
Since she was Mayor, Rita settled down once again to
the routine of her office. During the two-year good
period, Scratch Ass Dog prospered.
The name was real, but, of course, had been chosen
by drunken silver miners during its entirely lawless phase.
Later it became a ghost town. Then Rita and her husband
refurbished it as a tourist attraction.
He ran the Quality Inn, and she the dance school. He was
always good and she, as before intimated, mostly.
There wasn't that much lawbreaking but shifting and
obscure parking regulations gave the sheriff and deputy
the bulk of their work, primarily in the collecting fines aspect.
Neighbors from surrounding towns often spoke of going to
the Scratch, or the Dog, for a quick drink.
Few ever tired of the staged shoot-out where Sheriff played Lefty,
the one-armed. And Deputy, Pig, the reputed worst man ever to
live in Hopp County.
Lefty killed him daily, not really preventing a very aggrieved final
speech after a spectacularly elongated stagger and fall. Then Lefty
gave an oration over the dead body as to the glory of Law Enforcement.
St Rita the Mostly Good itched to flee again, with or without a passing bum, when the Quality Inn was robbed during the shootout reenactment.
Sheriff quickly apologized to the audience and he and Deputy took off, Siren screaming and red and blue lights spinning!
The pursuit was Keystone Kops, both vehicles ramming each other and the squad car ending on its roof.
The SUV, however, had hit the only oak mid runt trees,
cactus and scrub, and the officers managed to crawl out and
limp to it to effect the arrest of the unconscious old man
supplementing his Social Security.
The Mayor put them in the same hospital room, and the three
got along, but the old man complained of their screaming in
real and imagined pain.
A video was retrieved from the carcam, and St Rita used stills
from it in the new brochure.
The young state trooper filling in part-time caught her eye,
but her husband unrelented his surveillance.
She, however, became entirely busy choreographing a ballet of
The Chase. A little license therein, since the children shot off
silvery cap pistols but nary a shot fired in the unhinged pursuit.
Anyway, the first performance was in the hospital room where
the old man applauded vigorously, and the officers grew jealous
of all the attention being paid to the dancers.
Labels: armed robbery, automotive pursuit, law enforcement, Nevada, reenactment, Reno, restlessness, sex, Social Security, West
Tuesday, May 19, 2015
Happy Hogan's Motor Court
I lived with my sister, Crestview Apartments. No criminals there.
Or at Darsell Acres, or Melody Falls Condos.
But if you were to draw a rope around the three, you’d pretty
much gather all the folks not incarcerated in the city of Laurel Vista.
Prisons and jails being the main municipal feature.
I commuted to my job as Chicken Inspector, at the Cluck-Cluck
Farm in Bent Oak.
Well, Sis and I called it that, the job. Anyway, Foreman of an
operation it’s needless to go into. Think feathers.
One day I was tried, arrested, and sent to Daryl Bell Hoxey
Private Prison.
The work of Judge Streamline Carter! Actually, the trial had been
held without my knowledge. Then, they sent the officers to take
me into custody.
“Well, it’s only two years, and I’ll get out in one,” I counseled Sis
while we read the order as the cops fidgeted.
Lynne put up with nothing! And I had to be ripped from her grip.
They never named the charge, by the way. And haven’t yet.
But she was down every throat she could find! All authorities
insisted I had my day in court. But I hadn’t, of course.
But everybody she talked to believed it, and waved away facts.
Which is how you become one.
Her efforts did get me transferred from inelegant Hoxey to
a halfway house, the former Happy Hogan’s Motor Court.
A startling resort in the twenties and thirties, but now a
rustic ruin, more or less. But some cottages had been
partially refurbished, and I got one. A third of it Fifties style,
formica everything, and a twelve inch Motorola black and white.
Hey! Quite comfortable! The catering service brought the food
I ordered, and I cooked it myself.
Unfortunately, not much of a chef, which Lynne discovered
after a visit.
So, she moved in. After notifying the Hogans, who were fine
with it. Especially after telling them she was a bookkeeper, and
would straighten out their...uh, you couldn’t call them records,
since the motel part still secretly ran and got mixed up with
the inmates, who would frequently help with luggage for the tips.
Well, you couldn’t tell which from which, and a couple from Rhode
Island had been held a full week past their checkout date.
Courtesy of Bung Slater, who was the ostensible overall warden
over three such “arrangements.”
We’re awfully good friends with the Hogans, dinners at their place
or ours weekly.
Anyway, when my sentence due to end, they persuaded Bung we
tried escaping when we went to Lowes, which we did frequently.
He just winked, so we’re here indefinitely, I guess.
Lynne’s in a fury of remodeling, but kept the thirty-forty-fifty
flavor. Mostly thirty. She threw out the TV!
You’d expect John Dillinger to answer when the door chime
plays Prisoner of Love.
By the way, I’m no longer a prisoner, but as my fellows toasted
at the banquet, “An honored member of the Enforcement Community.”
Lynne married Chip Hogan, who took over when he finished grad
work at Syracuse. His parents moved to Indialantic, Florida.
Quite an age difference, Chip and Lynne, but he pipes that she’s a
dynamo in the office AND in the bedroom!
The three of us visit regularly and have seen rockets go off at
Cape Canaveral.
Believe it or not, the cons run the operation while we’re gone--
though we question the embezzlers politely upon return.
Labels: crime, Criminal Justice, jail, judge, law enforcement, motel, prison, private prison, privitization
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Neocon Heaven
or Under God
Since we were fighting in nearly all the known countries,
the newly-elected Democrats re-instituted the Draft.
Chubbie, Ruck, and I turned in our draft cards month later
as a protest. The only official spot in town, Sheriff's.
He came to my house later while we were watching the Falcons.
Accompanied by deputies, Legion guys, and some layabouts
from Mixxy’s Paradise Lounge.
“As I see it, you take these back, One. Or we beat the shit
outa you, Two.”
One.
Labels: American Legion, draft, law enforcement, neocon, Sheriff, threat, war, wars
Saturday, March 30, 2013
What the Sound Man Did
The dentist not taking, Denise hooked
back up with Herve when he returned.
"Do you promise excitement?" she laughed.
"You never know."
The second night he's wrestled to the kitchen
floor by Detectives Eccles and Raffratry.
Mistake. They sought his twin. Soon enough, they
all killed a 1.75 of Wild Turkey, Law Enforcement
telling of their more bizarre cases, and Herve of
doing the sound for incorrigible boy bands, and,
on this last trip, El Shrieko, Peruvian tenor embedded
with ragged Andean dancers.
Denise spoke of the dentist.
“A dentist who couldn't drill,” cracked Raff.
Eccles quickly asked what a sound man does exactly.
“Massages the vocal and instrumental talent, often
when there’s little or none.”
The detectives ultimately calling for a cab since
they had sent the two patrolmen back, Denise
told them it was her best time in years.
“Welcome to Civilization!” Eccles warmly proclaimed.
The dentist not taking, Denise hooked
back up with Herve when he returned.
"Do you promise excitement?" she laughed.
"You never know."
The second night he's wrestled to the kitchen
floor by Detectives Eccles and Raffratry.
Mistake. They sought his twin. Soon enough, they
all killed a 1.75 of Wild Turkey, Law Enforcement
telling of their more bizarre cases, and Herve of
doing the sound for incorrigible boy bands, and,
on this last trip, El Shrieko, Peruvian tenor embedded
with ragged Andean dancers.
Denise spoke of the dentist.
“A dentist who couldn't drill,” cracked Raff.
Eccles quickly asked what a sound man does exactly.
“Massages the vocal and instrumental talent, often
when there’s little or none.”
The detectives ultimately calling for a cab since
they had sent the two patrolmen back, Denise
told them it was her best time in years.
“Welcome to Civilization!” Eccles warmly proclaimed.
Labels: dentist, law enforcement, singing, sound, sound man, talent, Wild Turkey
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Outside Supreme Court,
It All Plays out as Parody
Representatives get facetime.
Pickets also, in prides of signs.
Law professors invited to parse
common language until
it trails past farce and into
insanity. “Circus clowns” etc
bandied for this jostling caboodle:
a comparison much too wimpy.
Labels: clowns, law enforcement, Supreme Court
Saturday, March 17, 2012
Enforcing Madness
DEPUTY
Started with fight between Mike and Marie outside
Kippy’s Kool Kup.
SHERIFF
Been called for those two before.
DEPUTY
It wound down and then Mark interfered.
SHERIFF
On which side?
DEPUTY
Marie's. Offered to marry her.
SHERIFF
Pretty drastic on the moment. But, ah, cottage
small by the waterfall! Did Mike rev back up in
his hurt and anger?
DEPUTY
Huge wrenching sobs. By this time the quarrel
has moved back to the bungalows.
SHERIFF
And the mischief makers among them?
DEPUTY
First, Melo.
SHERIFF
Stop with all the M's!
DEPUTY
Last one!...well not quite. Anyway he got a rifle for
birthday and proceeded to shoot it into the sky.
Reciting political slogans.
SHERIFF
Left or Right?
DEPUTY
Alternated.
SHERIFF
It can't stop there.
DEPUTY
One they call the Colonel?
SHERIFF
Interrupted his wet dream of glory to...
DEPUTY
obliterate concrete lawn jockeys and
plastic flamingos with his AK-47.
SHERIFF
No garden gnomes? Anyway, where are the Enforcers?
DEPUTY
Just arrived, Deputy Jerry getting colonel in bearhug.
SHERIFF
Thus restraining a sovereign nation!
DEPUTY
Other deputies grab other maniacs.
SHERIFF
Don't forget that love started it all.
DEPUTY
Whatever.
SHERIFF
But not over yet. PTT.
DEPUTY
Post Trauma Trauma? When it's all calmed down,
weirdness reappears? Bingo, Sheriff! When everybody
in cars for downtown ride, Marie's sister, Melody,
throws a harddrive out her window at Deputy Alice.
She had been asked for a statement but was studying
for a Calculus exam.
SHERIFF
Intellectual component. We lacked that.
DEPUTY
Anyway, Magistrate due to sort it out in morning
at his office.
SHERIFF
Don't stand too close to him.
DEPUTY
Does he go that way?
SHERIFF
Not entirely.
DEPUTY
Started with fight between Mike and Marie outside
Kippy’s Kool Kup.
SHERIFF
Been called for those two before.
DEPUTY
It wound down and then Mark interfered.
SHERIFF
On which side?
DEPUTY
Marie's. Offered to marry her.
SHERIFF
Pretty drastic on the moment. But, ah, cottage
small by the waterfall! Did Mike rev back up in
his hurt and anger?
DEPUTY
Huge wrenching sobs. By this time the quarrel
has moved back to the bungalows.
SHERIFF
And the mischief makers among them?
DEPUTY
First, Melo.
SHERIFF
Stop with all the M's!
DEPUTY
Last one!...well not quite. Anyway he got a rifle for
birthday and proceeded to shoot it into the sky.
Reciting political slogans.
SHERIFF
Left or Right?
DEPUTY
Alternated.
SHERIFF
It can't stop there.
DEPUTY
One they call the Colonel?
SHERIFF
Interrupted his wet dream of glory to...
DEPUTY
obliterate concrete lawn jockeys and
plastic flamingos with his AK-47.
SHERIFF
No garden gnomes? Anyway, where are the Enforcers?
DEPUTY
Just arrived, Deputy Jerry getting colonel in bearhug.
SHERIFF
Thus restraining a sovereign nation!
DEPUTY
Other deputies grab other maniacs.
SHERIFF
Don't forget that love started it all.
DEPUTY
Whatever.
SHERIFF
But not over yet. PTT.
DEPUTY
Post Trauma Trauma? When it's all calmed down,
weirdness reappears? Bingo, Sheriff! When everybody
in cars for downtown ride, Marie's sister, Melody,
throws a harddrive out her window at Deputy Alice.
She had been asked for a statement but was studying
for a Calculus exam.
SHERIFF
Intellectual component. We lacked that.
DEPUTY
Anyway, Magistrate due to sort it out in morning
at his office.
SHERIFF
Don't stand too close to him.
DEPUTY
Does he go that way?
SHERIFF
Not entirely.
Labels: law enforcement, love, politics
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
BBC Interview of Virginia Anti-Abortion
Enforcement Group Members
BBC
I guess we must start with the controversies. As you might know, the governor is getting a document ready to curtail
your responsibilities.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Hey! Being Cunt Cops, there’s not enough to do.
BBC
Which is what caused you and Commander Lincoln here
and others to stop a Richmond motorist? He says you
roughed him up.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Well, Commander Polk did.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Makes no difference who. We got immunity. Polk just
wanted to make him a man.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Besides, we all chipped in and bought him a nice pink purse.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Eye-talian.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Now that’s ignorant. We say ghinny where I come from.
BBC
Moving right along....
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
You’re not spose to make the jokes. That’s our job.
BBC
Quite right, uh, accurate.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Let’s get to the orgy. You’re dying to.
BBC
Okay then, Roanoke Times called it a homosexual one.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
(singing) When I’m not near-uh the girl I love-uve...
COMMANDER LINCOLN
(also) We love-uve the boys we’re near!
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
All piddle-paddle. Who cares? This Twenty First Century for godssakes!
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Queer shit sells!
BBC
What doesn’t is the much more important accusations of persistent Racism.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Stop there, Limey Person!
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Yeah, but you did nail it. Persistent!
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
That ain’t our fault. We’re just Cunt Cops. Look! You hafta be the biggest fool on God’s Green Earth not to know that these are political jobs. My Daddy a State Senator and Linc’s there, Mega Contributor.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
In a perfect world, they’d be co-auctioneers at Slave Market.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
“What do you bid for this totally sexual woman?”
COMMANDER LINCOLN
“Coal black if that’s your preference!”
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Did they start with a prayer?
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Nah! That’s now.
Enforcement Group Members
BBC
I guess we must start with the controversies. As you might know, the governor is getting a document ready to curtail
your responsibilities.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Hey! Being Cunt Cops, there’s not enough to do.
BBC
Which is what caused you and Commander Lincoln here
and others to stop a Richmond motorist? He says you
roughed him up.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Well, Commander Polk did.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Makes no difference who. We got immunity. Polk just
wanted to make him a man.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Besides, we all chipped in and bought him a nice pink purse.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Eye-talian.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Now that’s ignorant. We say ghinny where I come from.
BBC
Moving right along....
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
You’re not spose to make the jokes. That’s our job.
BBC
Quite right, uh, accurate.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Let’s get to the orgy. You’re dying to.
BBC
Okay then, Roanoke Times called it a homosexual one.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
(singing) When I’m not near-uh the girl I love-uve...
COMMANDER LINCOLN
(also) We love-uve the boys we’re near!
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
All piddle-paddle. Who cares? This Twenty First Century for godssakes!
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Queer shit sells!
BBC
What doesn’t is the much more important accusations of persistent Racism.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Stop there, Limey Person!
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Yeah, but you did nail it. Persistent!
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
That ain’t our fault. We’re just Cunt Cops. Look! You hafta be the biggest fool on God’s Green Earth not to know that these are political jobs. My Daddy a State Senator and Linc’s there, Mega Contributor.
COMMANDER LINCOLN
In a perfect world, they’d be co-auctioneers at Slave Market.
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
“What do you bid for this totally sexual woman?”
COMMANDER LINCOLN
“Coal black if that’s your preference!”
COMMANDER JEFFERSON
Did they start with a prayer?
COMMANDER LINCOLN
Nah! That’s now.
Labels: anti-abortion, GOP and Race, homosexuality, Law, law enforcement, Virginia
