flashback

Look what I found. When I was 15 or 16, I was at Sycamore Canyon beach with some friends. I remember walking down the beach and we noticed what looked like a water rescue going on. Turns out it was not a rescue, but Baywatch. So we went to the parking lot and saw a bunch of trailers and we tried to see if we could see anyone famous. The only famous person there was the Hoff. We thought that he was the biggest cheeseball in the world, but we gathered outside his trailer screaming, calling him 'Mitch', and asking him to sing for us. He was really nice and came out to see us. He gave us these cards of himself and some posters, and tape cassettes of his music. I don't think anyone kept the tapes, but we drove home from the beach later that day blasting it. He was really tall, thin, and tan. That's what I remember. I remember thinking he looked so much bigger on tv. Someone with him said we could show up at Zuma beach in bikinis and be on the set. It was hilarious. I'll never forget that day. I've kept this picture all these years. I love how oily and hairy he is. And who could resist the look he's giving?

I still have a "thing" for the Hoff. Whenever he's on tv, or in the news with a drunk scandal, or anything at all, one of my brothers calls me to give me all the details. I eat it up and then say, "Wait, why are you calling to tell me all this?" And he's like, "Because you love David Hasselhoff". Then I'm like, "No I don't. " And he's like, "Yes you do." and so it goes and has gone for the last 10 years it seems. Have you seen some of his music videos? If you haven't, you are missing out. Here are some of my favorites:

random thoughts

I had plans tonight. These plans have been in place for a while. HF got home from work this morning and informed me before falling asleep that he had to be back to work by 3 pm to work a special event. I gave him my "squint like Clint (Eastwood)" eyes, but I knew there was nothing I could do about it. It was impossible to get a babysitter on that short of notice, and I couldn't take the kids with me. My plans. Ruined. I was kind of upset. (note to self: Mr. and Mrs. Fuzz should have a scheduling meeting once a week, preferably Sunday nights after the kids go to bed. We will write on a calendar all the scheduled events that he has that he knows of and then I can make plan A's and plan B's. No more of this telling me about events while I'm half asleep or shampooing my hair and can't write things down.)

My eyes darted around the room, resting on a rotting container of baked beans on HF's nightstand. He had already fallen asleep and I lay on my stomach staring at the nasty container. I realized that every day he brings his pack upstairs when he gets home and empties everything out onto his nightstand. I wake up because I hear the violent ripping of the velcro on his uniform belt. Sometimes I might roll over and say, "Seriously?". Then there's the racking of the slide, the lone bullet falling out with a dull thud on the floor, to which I might say, "Can you do that again? I don't think the neighbors heard you". Then there's the sound that I can't stand the most. The empty tupperware container being set down on the nightstand. Today being the previous night's baked beans. It will sit there until I can't take it any longer and I take it down to the kitchen, because HF just won't do it. Sometimes these containers are being brought home after a few days or even weeks and are growing mold. This is one of those little things that drive me mad. I shout in my head, "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST PUT THESE NASTY CONTAINERS IN THE DISHWASHER AND NOT BRING THEM UPSTAIRS TO OUR BEDROOM AND PUT THEM ON THE NIGHTSTAND?!"

But you know what? These sounds are the sounds of him coming home *safe* in the morning. I love being woken up by the sounds of him coming home when there's so much uncertainty while I'm sleeping. It's comforting! In the middle of the day when I'm finally getting around to loading the dishwasher, I remember that there's one more dish. I go upstairs and tiptoe into the bedroom. I usually pause to look at him sleeping. He looks so tired. Sometimes there's drool coming out of the corner of his mouth. Sometimes he's snoring. I like it when he's lying straight face down with his arms by his side and there are two or three pillows stacked perfectly on top of his head. I slowly reach for the nasty container that he so inconsiderately! placed on the nightstand and I hold my breath, thinking that if he hears me, he might karate chop me because that's what he does now. As I carry that container back downstairs, I know it really isn't a big deal that he does this. Yes, it really does drive me crazy, and it would be preferable that he put his used food containers in the sink, rinsed! But this little ritual of his, imperfect as it is, has become "music" to my ears given the nature of his job. In the grand scheme of things, it's just a container. And if it's empty, that means he ate his food that I made for him instead of going to some fast food place in the middle of the night.

If he gets home early enough, before the kids are awake, he slides into bed, spoons me, and quietly tells me about his shift. I would like to keep sleeping, and sometimes he goes right to sleep along with me, but I end up having so many questions. And he usually has some good stories to share. Which, by the way, he will be sharing on the blog soon.

I like this post by LAPD wife, Routine Challenges.

My newest found tv show while HF is working graves. Miami Vice seasons 1-4 on Hulu.com. So far? Ridiculous.

If you are a fan of Napoleon Dynamite and Nacho Libre, you will be happy to know about the newest film, Gentlemen Broncos , out October 30th.

Poll: How much education do you have?

During the whole Gates and Crowley fiasco, I read a comment on a news forum. This person said that when they were young their dad was pulled over for a traffic violation and as the cop was approaching his father's window, he turned to his son and said, "Now remember son, a cop is a highschool dropout with a gun." So that's the view he has kept with him 30-some years later. Nice. Later I will go into all that's wrong with what that father taught his son.

From what I understand now, most agencies require at least a GED. Some require some college or a Bachelors. I am curious. How much education have you cops received? I will put the poll on the top right of my sidebar. Remember: spouses, girlfriends, family, friends, etc. can answer for their cop.

• highschool or GED
• some college
• associates
• Bachelors
• Masters
• Doctorate
• other (such as trade school)

***added later*** I guess I should've included a highschool dropout option too. Oh well.

lemonade award

Thank you Lisa for the lemonade award. I'm not sure what it stands for, but thank you nonetheless! That was nice of you. Lisa has a great blog. She writes a little about everything. She does great movie and book reviews and is well traveled. She has an excellent travel blog as well. She always has something interesting, beautiful, or inspiring to read about. And. . . she is a police wife.

love the shift you're in

These are the results from the last poll I posted. I asked What shift do you prefer?

days 14 (35%) swing 11 (28%) cover 2 (5%) graves 8 (20%) not sure/ it doesn't matter 4 (10%) Votes: 39

Every night this week, I've sat in front of the computer, cracked my knuckles and wiggled my fingers over the keys, ready to write. Nothing comes. Instead I end up reading Harry Potter, or I clean the kitchen, shave my legs, pumice my feet, watch Dancing with the Stars, or end up crashing face down onto my bed, falling fast asleep. It's a pampered life when HF works graves, I'm tellin' you. Sometimes when HF is on his way out the door for work, I will say something like, "When the cat's away, the mice come out to play!" and then I do my best dirty old man cackle with jabbing elbow and all. If he's ever wondered what it is I do while he's at work and our children are sleeping, he can rest assure that I'm usually not doing much of anything. Sometimes there is an ocassional ladies night. Usually I'm enjoying a couple hours of relaxation before heading to bed. One night last week he came home unexpectedly for some items he forgot. He needed me to run them outside to the patrol car. I had just settled in on the couch in my pjs to watch some ALIAS with a large mug of ice cream, and had a face mask on. I hesitated on the phone. I looked down at myself and touched the hardening mask on my face. "Uh, do I have to come outside?"
After reading the comments, I have to say some of you have some CRAZY work schedules! I don't think I have anything to complain about any longer. Each shift HF has worked has been an adjustment. Just when I think I'm getting the hang of one, or liking the routine, *bam* new shift. Since being cut loose, he has been working graves. He'll probably be working graves for the next couple of years at least. These are my thoughts on the night shift (great. now I have the song by the commodores, "night shift" stuck in my head).

What I don't love about HF working nights:

1. He is not at home while we are sleeping. Sometimes I hear noises, or feel a little scared at night. If you lived in our neighborhood you would feel the same way.
2. If he's not here during the night, then that means he's not sleeping with me. With small children, our only chance to spend quality time together is when the children go to bed. Physical intimacy is not always achieved before he has to leave for work. That vital part of our marriage gets easily neglected so therefore has to be scheduled. We do have a little less than 2 hours without kids before he has to go to work though.
3. We don't get to have a normal date night. And his days off are on awkward days for date night. Sunday and Monday nights. It's hard to get babysitting on those days. At least for us it is.
4. Sleeping during the day, even if he gets 7-10 hours before waking up, is still not the best sleep. He is always tired because his body is always out of wack.
5. His days off sometimes don't seem like days off because his body still thinks he's on graves.
6. Overtime. This would be an issue with any shift though.
7. When I wake up in the morning he should be next to me in bed. For obvious reasons, he can't always leave work when his shift is supposed to end. Sometimes he can't get to bed until later in the day and then has to go to sleep when we would normally be seeing him and spending time together.
8. It seems like there is a lot more action in the middle of the night. Good for him, not good for me if I'm being a worry wart.
9. Feels like he is always gone. Even when he's here sleeping upstairs.

I'm sure there's more things to hate about the graves (from a police wife's perspective) but here's what I love, or at least am finding to be not so bad:

1. Even though he is sleeping, it's comforting that he's here and just a few steps away if there's some kind of an emergency.
2. Sometimes when I put the baby down for a nap, I leave with Luke and Daisy to run errands or go do something fun. He predictably sleeps at least 2 hours for his nap, but if he were to wake up and cry, HF would hear him if he needed to help him. So far it hasn't ever happened.
3. He wakes up at 3 pm, which if you think about it, is like getting home from work earlier than your typical 9 to 5-er.
4. He gets some good quality time in with the kids, gets to eat dinner with us, and help put the kids to bed.
5. Me time. I'm finding that having this time at night is really good for me. I can watch movies, read, work on projects, do office work, organize our lives, take care of my physical, spiritual, and mental/emotional needs. It actually forces me to be organized in most ways; personally, home management, etc. If he is home at night, then we usually don't do anything except hang out. Everything else gets neglected. With him gone, I am better at time management.
6. It's a good schedule with young children because he can go to any afternoon and evening events and be here for dinner and nighttime routines.
7. I've been able to take care of myself better. I guess that fits under the me time category, but I read a lot, I beautify, I talk to friends and family, I make plans, set goals, sometimes I make playlists.

So for us graves really works well. I'm actually quite happy with our little arrangement right now. I'll just have to figure out a new rhythm when the shift changes to days or swings. Just please not the dreaded cover shift. I don't know how I would ever rock the cover shift.

How do you make graves work for your benefit? Or whatever shift you or your spouse is on? I also want to know what it is you do for your "me" time. How do you nurture yourself when you are done taking care of everyone and everything else?

more manly quotes

I have some more quotable quotes from HF that make me roll my eyes, but smile when he says them anyway. I don't know if he's actually used them on people while working, but I like to think he does. And I like to imagine that he says it like Chuck Norris would in Walker, Texas Ranger.

"You can say what you want, but you are going to do what I say"

"You can have the last word, but I get the last act."

and my personal favorite from ALIAS season 5:
(Jack Bristow watching agent Tom Grace at the firing range.)
Jack: I think you got him.
Tom: My mother always said, if somebody was worth shootin' once, they're worth shootin' twice.
Jack: I'm sorry I never met her. She sounds like my kind of woman.

Consumerism And Interpersonal Relationships (By HF)

I recently had an epiphany while interacting with the public I serve. We live in a free market democracy. Each generation has it seemingly "better" economically, then the generation that preceded it. The teenagers and college age students that I work with nightly are notably different than their grand parents.

I grew up a military brat (Navy) and, understandably, that military tradition and core set of values was instilled in me at a very young age. We grew up in what you would call middle class in an upper middle class world. My father was a "mustang officer," in the navy. He started as an enlisted man and worked his way to a commission. He made me work for everything I got and at times I hated him for it. I hated that my friends seemed to get whatever they wanted. When I turned sixteen, I got to drive the Ford Taurus station wagon, but I had to pay for gas, insurance and take over the transport duties of driving my younger brother and sister to their various after school activities. From the time I was old enough to legally work in the state I grew up in, I had at least one job. Most of the time I had two or three. Before that I did endless amounts of ridiculous yard work for my father. My wife and I put ourselves through college, and afterwards, the police academy training I recently completed. We both understand the value of work and see life from those eyes.

As I said earlier, many of today's emerging teens and 20 somethings are economically better off than many of us and preceding generations. Over time we as a society have focused on the price of just about everything. We have adopted a consumer mindset, obsessed with saving money and getting the best deals on everything. When an item stops working, we are more inclined to throw it away and just buy a new one. Not only a new one, but a better version of the old one. And better versions of everything we have come out in an endless stream almost daily. The advent of new digital technology has perpetuated and accelerated this consumer mindset. The Internet has enabled sellers to slash their overhead and consumers to more quickly find the best deals over a broader scope of available resellers. The Internet has also eliminated much of the personal interaction that used to be involved with buying and selling goods. It is now possible to get everything you need without leaving the comfort of your own home.

It could be said that finding the best deal for the best product or service has become a type of obsession. And this obsession has spread to some people's interpersonal relationships. I see people acting with a total lack of respect for others based on a consumer mindset of "what can this person do for me?" or "What can I get out of this relationship?" We as a culture have even adopted this consumer attitude into our common language. We discuss relationships in terms of "cutting our losses."

I find myself interacting with people who are viewing me as a police officer through these eyes. They "know the price of everything and the value of nothing." Because of this consumer mindset, basic economic principles will tell you that having a cop stop you, more often than not, is not going to be good for your wallet. As a result, the way they look at me is poor and that is reflected in the level of disrespect displayed. These kids that I interact with tend to have no situational awareness and don't see the value of being "nice." They only see me as a thing that's going to stand in the way of their sense of entitlement that they have grown up with their entire lives.

I believe that this consumer approach towards interpersonal relationships and the related sense of entitlement both causes and is used, albeit fruitlessly, to fill a void in people; a void consisting of deep and unmet needs. I have seen people treat others like broken products, discarding them without hesitation and moving on to the next bigger and better relationship that they think will give them what they want. Fewer and fewer people are thinking about responsibilities. Fewer and fewer ask what they can contribute to a relationship to make it last or give it value.

I realize that this is in no way the end all be all of why people break the law and then subsequently treat law enforcement badly. But I do think that this idea of attaching a consumer mindset to our interpersonal interactions is a problem that we as law enforcement officers and citizens are going to see much more of in the future.

more lessons learned

Supposedly our computer will be fixed by tomorrow. It needs a new hard drive. It amazes me how much I depend on that machine to do just about everything. I check the weather, I look up recipes, I budget, check my bank account, pay bills, blog, type up lists, check email, look up questions like, "Do dragons blow fire through their noses or their mouths" for my six year old that wants to know, and I watch tv shows on hulu.com. I had no idea I depended on it so much.

Here's another realization I've had. I think I am a Polyanna (see definition at married to the law). And I'm okay with it. I want to be. But of course, things are not always puppy dogs and roses. A few nights ago, we had a BBQ (sorry Erin, I spell it with a Q) at the park with some friends. We were running a little bit late, and the kids and I made it there before HF. I saw him pull into the parking lot and take FOREVER to find a parking spot, and I started feeling impatient. My impatience grew as I watched him sitting in the car not getting out, and then getting out, but getting on his cell and circling the parking lot. I was shouting in my head, "WHAT THE H**L ARE YOU DOING?! WE'RE ALREADY LATE!"

Finally he makes his way over and he asks me if I saw some guy on a bicycle near the city dumpsters. I said, "Yeah. Why?" He said that he matched the description of a guy that has been stealing bikes for a very long time and dumping the parts in the dumpster. Of course, he checked the dumpster and there were bike parts. He asked me which way he rode off. I had no idea. And I really didn't care. HF had gotten on the phone to call it in. I rolled my eyes. I said, "Why can't you just be here with us and that's it?" He looked at me and smiled. As soon as he smiled, and looked at me with those penetrating brown eyes of his, I realized immediately that he won't ever be able to just do that. Even though he is hyper aware right now being a rookie and all, he is still going to be someone who notices what's happening around him at all times and he has a duty to serve and protect even when he's clocked out. I was essentially asking him to put horse blinders on and not look for anything and just enjoy a much needed BBQ with us and some friends.

Much of my frustration is coming from the last 2-3 weeks being sort of crazy. He already has 60 overtime hours for this week and last alone. 2 weeks ago he did EVO (emergency vehicle operation) during the day and worked his night shift as well. He had no days off, and then he got called in early one night because there was a riot. I think HF will write about this soon. I saw him on You tube. Awesome. I appreciate the extra income, but I miss him, the kids miss him, and he needs rest! We had a lengthy discussion a couple of nights ago about all this, our expectations of each other, some explanations about the job that I'm still learning to navigate, made some plans and goals. It was good. I will write more about this later. I also have a lot of other posts in the making. So hopefully I can start posting regularly in the next day or two.

To sum it up: I realized that the job doesn't end when he's clocked out. He is always on duty. I am okay with it, it is expected, but it is a burden! We have a lot to learn, but this is still what we are meant to do and I really am happy with his choice of career. When I have these realizations or learn a new lesson, I am actually struck with a sense of excitement or satisfaction, because I realize that I am becoming a "pro" at making things work and accepting what "comes with the job". I am learning to be more independent and more organized. I am determined to be a good police wife. I want a happy life, a happy family, and a happy husband. I know his job isn't a happy one, and I want to do my part to make sure that we can achieve happiness in our own marriage and family. If I do my part, he can do his professionally, at home, etc. I'm beginning to think that there will be no end to what I can expect from his job. I have to roll with the punches.

computer repairs

I am not blogging for a couple of days (not that I've been blogging regularly anyway) so that our laptop can be fixed. I haven't been reading blogs either because of limited access (read: shady computer) so I leave you with a special treat for a couple of days. I couldn't embed the video but here's the link. Unfortunately, the dancing in this video has been permanently embedded into my brain. It's just awful. But that's why I love it anyway. Enjoy! See you in a couple days.

texting

I texted HF the other night while he was at work:

ME: I have your work phone

HF: OKay, I'm 10-17 to the house.

ME: That means diddly squat to me

HF: Time to learn

ME: It's not like I can't hear you roaring into the driveway.

It seems like all we do is text these days. And I don't have a full keyboard like HF does on his blackberry, so my texts look like this.

ME: when will u B home?

HF: I'm changing right now.

ME: Do u want 2 make out when u get here?

HF: Sure

ME: C u L8R.

Yes, we schedule intimacy.

Traffic Stop/Driver's Ed (posted by HF)

The other night I was out patrolling when I witnessed a blue Saturn come careening down a hill without it's headlights on. I followed the car and lit it up. The car slowed down to 15 mph but did not stop. Suddenly I was in my first pursuit. At 15 mph. I followed the car for 3 city blocks, calling out it's location and direction of travel. Finally it came to an intersection and stopped at a red light. I approached the car and she started to open her door. I closed the door and told her to open her window. Something was not right. I didn't get the "I'm a criminal vibe," from her. She was a short Chinese woman who had a confused look on her face. She cracked the door open again and leaned out to speak to me. Her English was good,

"Are you pulling me over?" she asked.

"Yes. Did you see my lights in your rearview mirror? Did you hear the siren?"

"Yes, but I thought you were trying to get by me."

"No, I was trying to get you to pull over because your headlights are out."

"No they're not!"

"Ma'am they are."

"No they're not!"

I asked her to step out of her car and take a look for herself. She stepped out onto the sidewalk and pointed to her running lights.

"See! I told you they were on!" she shouted, pointing at her amber running lights.

I motioned to her headlights and explained that those were the headlights and were required to be on at night. She started explaining to me that she only used those lights during the day so that people could see her. She attempted to justify running without them on at night when she said,

"If I turn these on at night I will blind everyone and cause accident!"

I told her to get back into her car. I held the door open for her as she complied and rolled the window down.

"Put your hands on the steering wheel at a9 and 3," I instructed. Surprisingly she understood this concept and obeyed. "Okay, now do you see this lever on the left?"

She nodded her head. "I want you to turn the dial at the end of it so that the line is on the little headlight." She turned the dial and her headlights came alive.

"See how bright they are officer? I blind everyone if I leave these on," she protested.

"Hold that thought ma'am. I want you to now push the lever out away from you until it clicks. The high beams erupted.

"oh," she gasped.

"Now pull the lever back to towards you and see what happens." She complied and the lights went dimmer. I reached inside and pushed the lever again. "These are what's called your high beams." I clicked the lever back again, "these are your low beams. Look around. See all these cars driving around us?"

She nodded her head.

"They are all using their headlights. When there's nobody around you can use the high beams. When on coming traffic appears, you need to switch to your low beams. Your high beams might blind someone momentarily but your low beams won't hurt anyone."

She looked totally dejected. I could tell the fight was gone from her and she looked up at me.

"I am so sorry officer. I thought I was following the rules."

"Have you ever been pulled over before?" I asked.

"No, never," she responded.

"Okay, now that we've cleared the headlights matter up I need some information." I asked for the usual documents and instructed her not to get back out of her car. Dispatch confirmed that she was a college student from China, and everything came back clear. I returned to her car and began lesson number two.

"Okay, is this a new car?" I asked.

"Yes I just got it one month ago."

"Okay, do you know how to use your windows?"

She looked at me sheepishly, "no."

"Okay, this button rolls your windows up and down. When you see red and blue lights in your rear view mirror," I pointed to her mirror, "you need to slow down, pull to the right and stop."

"But what if he wants to talk to me?" she asked.

"If the officer is stopping you, you'll know because he'll walk up to your window. If not, then he'll drive by you, grateful that you got out of the way."

"Okay," she said, seeming to grasp the concept.

"Now if an officer stops you, you need to roll down your window so you don't have to open your door to talk to him or her."

"You want me to stay in my car? I thought I would help by talking outside of my car."

I shook my head and she looked even more dejected as the realization came to her that she had the wrong idea of what cops in the United States wanted.

"You need to stay in your car for many reasons. If you get out, you could get hit by another car and we don't want that. We want you to be safe. So stay in your car. It's our job to walk back and forth so let us serve you. All you have to do is just stay in the car and wait for us to do what we need to do. Okay?"

"Okay."

I could tell she was starting to feel a little better. She struck me as the kind of person that truly wanted to "follow the rules," and was devastated to learn that she had not been. I wondered how she ever obtained a license but it was valid and she was committed to driving with her headlights on.

"Okay, this is your first traffic stop. So now that you understand the rules, I'm going to let you go without giving you a ticket. I think we've made some real progress tonight wouldn't you?"

She nodded in relief.

"All right, you drive safe okay?"

I got back in my car and watched as she drove away. I never thought that I would be giving someone an impromptu drivers ed class on how to use your headlights and how to handle being pulled over. When she started to get out of the car, all my combat instincts seemed to go on alert but it was quickly clear that she was not looking for trouble. This was definitely one of my weirder traffic stops so far.

I hope she does better with her PhD. classes then drives.

what i found in the dryer part IV

I thought this was a funny find. I found a pen (which no longer works because I washed it) and this CIA pin. When I asked him where he got this, he playfully acted like he was hiding something, "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Turns out another officer had a few of them and was like, "want this? Here you go!" Why would you have a bunch of CIA pins on hand if you aren't in the CIA? Unless he really is affiliated. . . I'm extra suspicious right now because I've been watching ALIAS and I want to be Sydney Bristow. Another item to toss into his top dresser drawer AKA: the junk drawer. I'll have you know it's full of tape cassette players like walkmans, mini tape players, etc. I should take a picture of all his devices. And he uses them! I don't get it. I just don't get it.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving (posted by HF)

A few nights ago, one of the female Field Training Officers was coming on duty. She walked into the patrol room and up to one of the cabinets that each officer has an assigned drawer in. She opened her personal drawer to retrieve some needed forms for the night's work when she noticed a picture frame in her drawer turned face down. She turned the frame over to reveal a vintage print from the 1940's.

"Who could have put this in my drawer?" thought the officer.

"Who knows I collect vintage art work from the 1940's? she wondered.

She looked at the frame. At first glance it appeared old and weathered. But upon closer inspection, she discovered that the frame was, in fact, brand new.

"It's been hand treated to look old. The weathering job is too precise, too congruent and even, too balanced. The grain of the wood doesn't show through the paint the way it would on a frame weathered by time."

"Oh there's a card!" she quipped.

It read:

"Dear Samantha [name of officer changed],

I just wanted to thank you for all the time and effort you spent training me while I was there. You were like a sister to me and I still feel that way. I was at the fourth of July parade and I saw you there with your beautiful kids. You mentioned that you collect these and I saw it and knew that you would love it.

Love,

CJ"

Question 1: How in the world did CJ get into the patrol room!?
Question 2: Is CJ stalking her former FTO!?
Question 3: WTF???