12,338. RUDIMENTS, pt. 884

RUDIMENTS, pt. 884

(shooting fish in a barrel)

Hassle-free cops? I wonder. Back

about, oh, I forget the year, I parked

next to a friend's house in Avenel, on

Chase Avenue, to be exact, in front

of the neighbor's house. The kid

that lived in the house, some little

pesky 12-year old, put his bike

down in front of my car, as a

snarky challenge to blocking me

from leaving. Something about

not wanting me in front of the

house. I told the kid if he didn't

move the bike in a few minutes,

I'd simply run over it as I left.

He didn't; I did. Turns out the

kid's father was a not-so-friendly

cop. Boy did I take a go-round

on that one. Just goes to show

the law hides in the most

unlikely places; that's their

game  -  like the cop cars you

see now, 70 feet off the road,

thinking they're actually hidden

from view, just waiting for

scanning as each car rolls by.

Dorks have better chances in a

whorehouse. The other night I

had a cop over to my house. I

didn't even know it. The phone

rings, I answer and the voice on

the other end says, 'Sir, this is

Dispatch. You called a little

while back; could you please

step out of your house, I have an

officer there wishing to talk with

you.' I said, 'Huh?' So she repeated

it. Twenty minutes previous I had

called in (it was like 10pm) and

said, with annoyance, that for the

4th night in a row there were what

sounded like gunshots outside, in

the fields, or what's left, at the

new apartments they built, and

the fragmented woods that run

over to the prison.  I said it was an

annoyance, my dog was bothered,

it didn't sound like the geese-cannon

they occasionally use to scatter the

flocks (there are none now), and it

certainly wasn't firecrackers. Which

I often hear too. I said it wasn't in

the bargain that I had to now live

with such crap going on and I wanted

it checked out, and/or stopped. Period.

-

So, they sent a cop over. 'Sir, you 
called about gunshots at the prison? 
4 or 5 nights in a row? Can I have
your full name and this address

please.' He's writing down, in his

little pad, all the while. It was dark,

his cop car was at the curb, and 
my front light at the end of the walk 
was on, where we stood. So I had to 
re-explain it all, how I didn't define 
it was; I had not said it was gunshots
at the prison.  The point being I didn't 
know what it was and that was the 
problem. He starts then asking 
questions,  leading questions, I

thought, as if I were an idiot. I said, 
'Look, I know the difference in 
percussions, and so does my dog,
as does my wife (she was there, to
witness this). This is not a fireworks, 
and not a goose cannon. It's from 
over there  - perhaps they're 
shooting at deer (plentiful now, 
with occasional herd-culling)  -  
and then I also had to say how 
the Linden Police Shooting range
is right over there, through

the swamps as the crow flies, 

and though I sometimes hear that 

too, this was not it. Those police

firings were in volleys, as if timed,

maybe 20-30 shots in quick

succession. This was not; rather

these were 2, maybe 3 shots (all

sounding very much like the

sounds of old Pennsylvania

hunting seasons). So, this stalwart

young officer tried to make sense

out of this odd house-call, as did I.

My complaint was about myself,

rather about 'over there'  -  as I

pointed. Curiously enough, even

baffling to me, and oddly-phrased

too, he turned to where I pointed  -

which was apartments and woods  -

and simply said, 'Well, we have do

have a man over there, (meaning a

cop), but I'll put this report out and

we'll keep eyes and ears open.' I had
no clue what that meant either.

And he left...Pretty weird.

-

See, the thing about ignorant people,

which , in this case I hoped I was not,

is how they insist on taking up the

time of others' regardless of the value

of the claim  -  part of their procedure

is to weave you in, bungle you up,

and entrap you after you are drawn

into their web. That's just how it goes,

and how they operate, and it happens

all the time. I sincerely hope this isn't

how I came across, but at that point

I nearly felt as if I was the fool here.

When you're running a town, or a part

of the town, that takes responsibility

for nothing, and owns up to nothing.

nor announces anything publicly, 

what is the average schmuck (like me) 

to do, having no recourse? If I take

up a rifle and stalk the same area of

the noises, I'd be arrested. If I shot

back, randomly, in the direction

of them, I'd get apprehended. I 

went to Paddock Street, with my 

dog, and was told to leave by some

shirt and tie geek  -  it was private

state property, in a white 

mystery-building.

-

When a cop hides out today, with the

scanners and plate readers and all that,

it's pretty much a leisure activity. Take

as an example, the other morning,

Woodbridge car 7  - windows half

down, plumes of vapor smoke wafting

out the windows, parked at the back

end of Merril Park with, maybe, a

park roadway 1000 feet off, with the

small chance of a speeder or violator.

I have no idea who thinks such a thing

is enforcement, and at 70+ bucks an hour

too, but it goes on. The old way of hiding

cops was some stumblebum cop and

car partially concealed behind a 

billboard for 'Sno-Cone Charley's

Chicken and Cream stand, don't miss

it, 3 miles on the right!'  -  no more of

that these days. The hidden agenda of

things now is that YOU, and me, are

the outside agitators, for whom the

deserved 'watching' is never enough,

while apparently, the 'police' now cover

for the local, theft-laden, creepy

business-interests within the town,

be it real-estate, subsidized housing,

graft or pass-along corruption.

How to figure that? I don't know.

I'd rather run over some brat kid's

bicycle, and take my punishment.

-

I think it's all too much, and way past

the point of no-return. Truthfully.

Everything's a slanderous mess, with

crooks and prevaricators everywhere

but no one cross-examines them.