Kihei, Hawaii Whitefish, Montana Bloomington, Minnesota Barrow-in-Furness, Cumbria UTC/GMT Iraq Afghanistan Republic of Korea Ocean Grove, Victoria
Optimized for 1280x1024 resolution

Monday, August 20, 2007



My landlords' son has a birthday tomorrow. Yesterday he had his birthday party.

I love the sound of kids just being kids. Laughter, squeals, screams and excitement. Games played, songs sung. gifts given. No better elixir than the joy of life.

A lot of guests complain about there being children making noise at their resort. I don't get it. They must be the most self-centered individuals alive. If I have my druthers, I'd rather hang around the kid's pool than one reserved for adults only. The energy is contagious with the kids. Their world is still fresh, alive, mysterious. Full of adventure.

If anyone disagrees, just keep quiet and do your own thing.

Happy Birthday, Austin!

Slept. Ate. Slept. Ate

That was the sum total of my day. And one that I relished immensely.

Let me check my schedule for tomorrow.

Yep. More of the same.

The recovery from my back problem of three weeks ago is still in progress. The Quasimodo look is disappearing. An old injury has flared up in my shoulder again but will eventually go away. It always does but each recurrence and recovery take just a bit longer than the prior time.

Nothing interesting in the local news. No good funny stories arrived in this weeks e-mails.

So here's an old "war story":

It was around midnight. I had a partner with me. Just cruising our beat. Radio traffic very quiet.

Get waved over by a citizen. He had seen a young man sitting at the base of a traffic light pole on an island in the middle of an intersection a few blocks away.

Sitting with his back against the pole was a mid-teenage male, clutching a silver tea service tray to his chest, hunkered over. Unconscious.

My partner taps the kid on the shoulder. The kid opens his eyes and slams the tea tray into my partners face. Cartoon style. You could almost see the face highlighted in the flat surface. He wasn't "out for the count" but he was out of action. Kid tries to run away. I tackle him. Back then I had great upper body strength, I could bench press about 250 lbs. (115 kg). I didn't care how big the opponent was, all I had to do was get them on the ground and I could easily handle anyone except a trained wrestler or martial arts expert. This kid was neither but no matter how hard I tried to control and subdue him, nothing worked. I hit him across the knees with my baton. No reaction and "Holy Shit!" he grabbed the baton, breaking the leather strap, and tossed it into the street. Attempted a choke hold and he easily shoved my arm away. Maced him, and he didn't even feel it. My partner finally rejoined the fray and the two of us wrestled the kid, rolling into traffic lanes as John Q's, with family in tow, slowed and watched the show as they passed by.

Most physical altercations are done in 30-seconds or less. This one easily passed the 5-minute mark and only my partner and myself were showing any signs of exhaustion. And it was far from over.

I finally got him face down in the dirt, shoved my Mace canister into his mouth and emptied it. Thats not a slow process. I felt like I was riding a Brahma bull in a rodeo. Just as the canister emptied, his body went limp. He was gasping for air. Got the cuffs on him and found an ID.

Just barely 17 years old. A long juvenile record of burglaries and narcotics use. That night was my first experience with an individual on PCP, which is a pig tranquilizer. In a human it creates a high that gives the individual almost super-human strength, as I found out the hard way.

He had committed a burglary in an adjacent city, taking cash and the Revere silver tea service tray. Very expensive. The intersection was as far as he had made it, about 4 blocks, before falling unconscious. The burglary hadn't even been reported yet. Took him to "Juvie" via the Emergency Room at County Hospital.

He was released to his parents custody before I had even started to write my report.

He didn't show any bruising or other identifiable marks of the fight. My partner and I had destroyed uniforms (torn shirts, ripped pant's knees), black and blue marks everywhere and a couple of minor, but tender, bite marks. My partner had a broken nose. Smashed flat.

Added that one under the "Learning Experience" column of my life.

Thanks for stopping by. Check back tomorrow. Maybe I can find something more interesting to write about.




The Un-Official State "Symbol"
Makena Shore
North Kihei
Napili Bay
Molokini & Kaho'olawe

"Let's all be careful out there!"