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| Rob's Soapbox | ||
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Congratulations!
You have finally landed on the one page on this entire site (and on the entire internet for that matter) that is purely without bullshit... my soapbox page. There are a lot of times during our show that, whether it's because of time constraints and other obligations, I don't always get to address some issues that I feel don't get the attention they deserve. There are even more times when I just don't feel like waiting until the show the next day to get some things off my chest. Thus, I have started the "Rob's Soapbox" page. If you have clicked on this page looking for someone to coddle your fragile sense of self-esteem, or tell you what you want to hear or to reinforce your outdated world view, then exit this page right now and go somewhere else. If you are in search of the last forum for reason and common sense left in the world, then sit back, relax, and enjoy. I make only one promise with this soapbox page... if you read long enough and often enough, you will eventually be offended. So here's my latest soapbox. Listen up, 'cause you just might learn something... |
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July 13th, 2009 A RIDE ALONG WITH MICHAEL JACKSON One of the absolute highlights of my recent summer vacation was a ride-along I did with Deputy Brian Amos of the Sacramento Sherriff Department. For those of you un-initiated to the ride-along (as I was before this trip) the idea is to literally ride with a cop and see what they do, how they do it and all of the intricacies and challenges that go into being on the spot in the heat of the moment that are not always translated into TV reality shows and the like. I gather that each ride along is different, starting with the cop. In my case, I sat next to Brian in the front seat, perhaps out of necessity since his K9 partner, Jesse, had pretty much called the back seat at the outset of the evening. Deputy Amos set the rules for my trip right away; unless he told me otherwise, I was to be by his side the whole time. That meant when he got out of the car, I did too. At no time in our eight hours together did he ever tell me to stay in the car so I was right there, sometimes sandwiched between multiple deputies as we responded to reports ranging from a teen putting a shotgun in his mom’s face to capturing a rape suspect to a two-family fight on the lawns of their North Highlands homes to a high speed chase of over 100 MPH tracking a motorcyclist with no headlights evading the police. I saw and felt it all, which is what Brian wanted. For him the point of the ride along was for me to actually see, feel and experience everything they did; the danger, the adrenaline, the on-the-spot decision making, the team work, the thinking, everything. It’s been almost two weeks since the ride along and I still find myself thinking about it…a lot. It’s the kind of thing that makes you rethink your career choices in life. After giving my wife a blow by blow description of the night her first question, upon seeing the glimmer in my eyes was “do you think you’d want to be a cop?” My wife knows me well and she saw an excitement and pride and invigoration in me that only comes with absolute passion. Knowing she didn’t sign on to be a cop’s wife I quelled her query with a simple, “in another life, absolutely.” The first thing I did the night of the ride along was walk through the Sherriff station with deputy Amos and listen to the quiet lack of morale throughout the building as cop after cop bemoaned the impending budget cuts that will transfer some of them back to jail duty and others out of jobs completely. Once everyone hit the streets, it was totally different; every cop was excited to be out there catching bad guys. The realities of the financial world have no place when you are staring into the eyes of the reality of the actual world in the middle of the night. While Deputy Amos and I patrolled the streets that night, there were 36 cops out. Once the budget cuts take full control, there will be 10; and no helicopter helping from above. For selfish reasons, I can’t wait to go out again because I can only imagine how busy and dangerous it will be by the end of the year. The thrill I got being part of six cops entering a dark home at 3:00 in the morning to find six drunken people lying in wait for us will only be intensified when it’s two cops. Unfortunately, I have a feeling I’ll be told to stay in the car a few times on the next trip; fewer cops means everyone is less safe and their ability to protect me while serving the public will be hampered by cuts in the force nearing 75% at certain patrol times. The night of my ride along came 4 days after the death of Michael Jackson. In the ten days between Jackson’s death and his public funeral, twenty American soldiers were killed overseas fighting for our freedom. The public funeral of Michael Jackson was carried live on every American news network, almost all cable channels and seen by approximately 1 billion people worldwide. No one watched the funeral of any of the servicemen who were buried and almost no one is talking anymore about cops being taken off of the streets. Vallejo is talking about eliminating their SWAT team to save money; that ought to make hostage takers and bank robbers happy. It doesn’t matter, though, because nobody seems to care. When your grandmother is shot in a bank in Vallejo or your sister’s rapist goes free in Sacramento or your mom gets a phone call from the Reno police department rather than an officer at her door after someone has broken into her home, then you’ll care…and you’ll blame the cops for some reason. However, when a freak job who has contributed nothing to pop culture in more than a decade, passes away because he can’t sleep at night without hospital anesthetics; the world stops. Don’t blame the media; nothing drives me more nuts than a soul-less public that shakes its fist at the TV and screams “why are they covering this story so much?” Why do you think? Because you are watching…in extraordinary numbers; and because you wouldn’t sit and watch a 60 minute documentary on what the streets of your city will look like after two-thirds of your police force are cut. More sickening, if TV did show a serviceman’s funeral, you’d walk by the TV and say “who the hell is this guy and why is he on TV?” Which is funny, because that’s what I said when I saw Michael Jackson’s funeral on TV. We shut down highways in Los Angeles so that an individual who did, admittedly, change the world of music, could be driven from cemetery to funeral home to public gathering places. No mention was made of his total inability to cope with anything remotely related to life; no mention was made of his multiple bouts with accusations of child molestation (ironically, when that did come up his supporters were quick to scream of his innocence in the 2005 trial but never wanted to discuss the first accusation in the 90s when Jackson paid off his accuser to go away). No mention was made of Jackson’s $500 million debt, his abhorrent behavior with his own children, ranging from dangling one over a balcony to literally paying off their mother to stay out of their lives. To hear Brooke Shields and Al Sharpton tell it, Michael Jackson belongs alongside Martin Luther King Jr. and Abraham Lincoln as one of the greatest humans ever to moonwalk the face of the earth. So today I raise a glass of fine wine in the air to once again toast the American culture; the society we live in that has made the death of a talented pervert the center of our world while we ignore true heroes that defend our abilities to ignore life on a day to day basis. As 2009 unfolds, many cops will die in America and many soldiers will do the same overseas, all in an effort to provide us the apathy we so richly feel we deserve; and no one will cover it and no will care. Maybe when that rapist shows up at your door you can just call your hero Michael Jackson to protect you. For those of you as frustrated as me, asking what can be done, I encourage you to visit this website operated by the Sacramento Sherriff's deputies. It explains the realities of budget cuts and things that we, the public can do to help:
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