rlfj: Blog

Lots of elements in this story. The main story, about the Headless Horseman, was from a tale told me by a Texas police officer, and like Skinny Mike, the officer involved managed to get over the incident and went on to a long and honorable career in law enforcement. Several of the other stories I can personally bear witness to.

The story of the late-night antics in the Wal-Mart came courtesy of my wife, who used to be a graveyard shift cashier at a local grocery store. She would come home and tell me the damnedest tales of who and/or what came in at 2 or 3 in the morning. In one instance she reported a guy coming in stoned and looking for beer and condoms with what seemed to be the loose change he had pulled from the couch. I dread to think of what had happened to the poor couch! In another case a different gentleman came in looking for flowers and condoms, and then told my wife that if he didn’t have the one, he wouldn’t need the other. She couldn’t believe people would blurt out this stuff to total strangers. As for the outfits I described, just search for ‘ugly Walmart people photos’ and you will find many sites with pictures that will make you want to leave the species, also.

The accident on the highway in Alabama happened to me, though it was in Pennsylvania, not Alabama. As I mentioned, my beloved decided I needed to sleep on the couch for a few nights. I also had to hire a couple of criminal lawyers, one of whom had as his last defendant a serial killer named Lewis Lent. I used to drive home from work wondering if the NY State Police were going to be waiting for me in my driveway with a warrant. Just like in the story, I told my wife that my name and extradition are never used in the same sentence!

Enjoy!

The further adventures of the Grim Reaper. This is a collection of short stories that share a theme. It is a few years after the finale of the original Grim Reaper book. I will post these vignettes mostly as a whole, so some posts might have one chapter, and some might have several. Only the finale will take longer.

The title comes from the first episode of Miami Vice, the groundbreaking police series from the ‘80s. At the end of the episode, Sonny Crockett, a Miami cop played by Don Johnson, asks Rico Tubbs, a NYC cop played by Philip Michael Thomas, “Hey Tubbs, you ever consider a career in southern law enforcement?”

Before I go further, I absolutely have to thank my two ‘police editors.’ These gentlemen, jjmcdonald and grynslvr2, are both current or former law enforcement professionals, both south of the Mason-Dixon line. They have provided the basis for some of the stories (but not all) and have helped with both accuracy and editing. They have worked with me on earlier stories and were indispensable here.

The first story is Block Party, which was suggested by jjmcdonald. Interestingly, this story was the only one my two editors had a disagreement on. grynslvr2 considered this a ‘Man Bites Dog’ story, rather unusual. Many gangsters, he reported did not treat their families nicely and were prone to beat and rob grandparents. I don’t have any personal expertise on this, but I found it interesting that jjmcdonald commented that the African-American and Hispanic communities seemed to be more prone to respect for matriarchal hierarchies than other communities. Regardless, it is based on a true story.

A big element in the first story is about warrants. On TV we hear all about warrants and getting them and using them, but about 90% of what you see on TV cop shows is bullshit. There are search warrants and arrest warrants, and they are not the same thing, and the rules are very specific for each type. Fuck it up and the bad guy walks, and you might just screw up the entire case against him. Warrants can be very complicated and need to be very precise. I have heard from a few other police professionals and magistrates confirming this. Even the tiniest typo or misspelling can invalidate the entire thing. Judges can be very particular about what they will and won’t allow. The actions of Officer Hanover could have easily landed him and the department in some very hot water.

In any case, I hope you enjoy it.

Now we see the dark side of fraternity life. For all of you who have been complaining about Carl joining a stupid frat and how evil they are, well, now you get to say, ‘I told you so!’ No, it didn’t happen in my frat. Still, it is the sort of thing that happens every year, somewhere.

On the other hand, it’s actually pretty rare! How many thousands of frat houses are there across the country? It’s only a handful every year, nationwide, that get truly stupid, where people get hurt or killed. When it does happen, it’s usually stupid shit like this, where a handful of brothers get out of control. That’s not an excuse, but it doesn’t mean we have an epidemic of abuse, either. Anyway, so much for the soapbox.

As many of you have suspected, or as I have admitted, portions of this story are semi-autobiographical, but the accent is on the ‘semi’! My real family is nowhere near as fucked up as the Buckman family. We’re only average fucked up, since we’re just an average family. Even though we live 300 miles away, we try to get there several times a year. Two years ago we took my mother on a cruise; she was 94.

We’re taking another break from Carl Buckman and going back to the Grim Reaper for a few weeks.

I got a lot of positive reaction to the chapters about summer camp with the army. I must not have screwed it up too much. Thanks to all the constructive critics, and that is a serious thanks! I had huge amounts of help from vets. If I screw something up, it’s my fault, not theirs!

What surprised me the most was the considerable number of emails saying that Carl should dump Marilyn. Several people thought that her hitting him and calling him an asshole was beyond the pale, and he didn’t need this kind of grief. Hey guys, you’re overthinking things! He insulted her, she got pissed, she called him names, they got back together again. It happens all the time, and probably happens in every single relationship, even the great ones.

On the other hand, I got several responses saying how I had screwed up by having Carl make the mistake in the first place. These broke down into two types: A) Carl is a genius and would never do something so dumb, and; B) Carl is so good and wise he would never make a mistake like that. Well, there are two responses to that. First, lots of really smart people do stupid shit, and while Carl hasn’t made the old mistakes again, he is certainly capable of making new ones. Secondly, and in some ways more importantly, Carl is human. He is not some sort of wise demi-god. He puts his pants on one leg at a time just like the rest of us. In fact, on occasion he manages to screw that up, get his pants on wrong, and falls flat on his face. This was certainly one of those times.

There is a dark part of Carl’s soul. In some of the later chapters we get to explore that, and some of the readers will not like what is there. He’s simply a human, generally good, not perfect, and as fucked up as the rest of us.

So much to write about this time! Obviously the big change is that Carling starts doing stuff with the Army. More on this in a moment.

I had a real head-scratcher of an email when I published this story on SOL:

“Considering the USA attacked Canada and a whole bunch of other countries in its war of conquest. Considering that the so-called American war of Independence was really about looting and pillaging British loyalists, and that thousands of loyalists were marched to their deaths in winter. And considering that Carling is a Southerner and so no fan of the Civil War. Considering all that, it's a wonder he talks like such a fucking dumbass about "protecting his country". And it's a wonder he can't see the Lefleur's point of view, who were an immigrant French Catholic family from Quebec. Part of the country that was attacked by the United States! The truth is Bob Lefleur is totally right, and Carling is a fucking idiot.”

Okay, so the writer isn’t a fan of the U.S. I understand that. After all, this is America, where every citizen has the God-given right to be a fucking asshole and have a moronic opinion. No, here’s the head-scratcher part: How the hell do you get all the way to chapter 41 reading about a certified patriot, when it was announced in chapter 21 that he was doing ROTC and joining the Army? Wouldn’t you have stopped earlier? Okay, so much for the comments about the reader from the cheap seats.

I belonged to an Army frat in college, and most of this chapter is taken directly from their stories from summer camp. Some of them liked it, some of them hated it, all of them talked about it. The part about the Blue and Orange armies is not completely true - I had to tone it down! What really happened was even more unbelievable!

In 1974, “BLAZING” and “SADDLES” was actually used as a sign-countersign. My buddies couldn’t believe it happened. The movie had come out that year and was one of the biggest comedies in movie history. That somebody would use something so recognizable simply was astonishing to them! What happened next was equally crazy. They didn’t capture the sentries and take them back as prisoners. No, my buddies managed to talk their way through the sentries, infiltrated the enemy positions, and were escorted to enemy headquarters. Once there, they tossed in some smoke grenades (simulated real grenades), grabbed some maps and other papers, ran outside, commandeered a Jeep plus the Orange army driver, and then forced him to drive them back to the Blue army.

Just about every veteran who read it wrote back how it reminded them of what really happened. The most common phrase was how funny it seems now, and how much of a pain in the ass it was then.

My kid brother was in the National Guard at the time (he is nowhere near as fucked up as Hamilton - he’s an asshole but he’s not crazy; there’s a difference!) and he told us stories about the Army and the Guard, but I always discounted them. He made armory sergeant after the previous armory sergeant managed to remove all the firing pins from their rifles and mixed them up. I would think they were interchangeable, but apparently not. My brother was promoted to armory sergeant to fix this problem, but it was a mixed blessing. The old sergeant was assigned as his assistant.

I think Dunnigan once wrote that the winning army isn’t the best army, but the least worst army. Makes you wonder, doesn’t it? Thank God the Russians were even more screwed up than we were!