13-003

 

I watch television to relax.  The trouble is, it’s not so relaxing.

 

Take police procedurals.  Officers go into a house, guns drawn, looking for someone.  They sneak around checking closets, finding dead bodies and smoking guns, but the entire time, I can’t pay a scrap of attention, because I’m too busy shouting: “Shut the door!  Close it behind you!  How do you know someone isn’t coming back?” 

 

Nobody ever shuts the door.  And by the way, what does it mean when they yell “Clear”?  Apparently one thing it does NOT mean is, “There’s nobody here,” because half the time, as soon as they’ve said it, some criminal springs out of the closet or out from under the bed., and attacks them; so I’m thinking it means “I’m all alone here!” Instead of “clear,” I think they should just yell “Marco!” Then whoever’s hiding in the closet could yell “Polo!” and we could be getting somewhere.

 

When they aren’t entering premises with guns drawn, they’re sneaking up on bad guys holed up in buildings… and yet the officers are always jabbering, in loud conversational tones, about who they’re sneaking up on, and who’s going to sneak to which window… not to mention where they’re all going for lunch after the arrests are made.  Does nobody hear this?  Does no one bolt out the back? And how can the criminals possibly get any of their criminal work done, with all that blather going on outside?

 

As for the arrests, I’m no expert on the Constitution, but there seems to be some kind of requirement that when police tell their suspects to “Stop!  Police!” they must shout it from at least a city block away. There must be some rule against getting close enough to actually arrest people…or else why don’t they?  So there’s always a foot-race, complete with shots ringing out and property being ruined.  Alas, they never seem to learn from these rookie mistakes…even though I have, and keep trying to tell them: “Get closer first!” But they never listen. 

 

When the fugitives escape in a vehicle, officers jump in their cars and give chase.  But who had the keys?  And when did they turn the ignition?  Or is everyone driving those newfangled cars that “know” if their key is in your pocket? (Which is more than I ever do.  I rented one of those things  recently, and my son had to “facebook” a friend to tell me how to start the car.)  Of course no one ever fastens their seatbelt – or gets tangled taking it off, when they arrive. 

 

And I’m sure I needn’t tell you how distracted I get when the driver turns around, for an animated conversation with somebody in the back seat, and never runs off the road or into another car.  

 

After an hour of all this “relaxation,” I am exhausted and must continue my research in the prone position.  I’ll see you tomorrow…if Marco and Polo from the closet don’t get me first!