As organized as a food riot

So I’ve been a Detective for a year now, and I’m almost as organized as Fred Sanford’s front yard. I’ve never been what you would call OCD, organized, or, for that matter, “all there.”

That being said, it’s starting to hinder my work performance that I can’t keep track of cases, suspects, witnesses, or tools. I swear I go through 20 pens a week. Evidence hasn’t been an issue, as once it’s collected and processed, there’s no delay before it gets dropped into property.

For those veteran desk jockeys out there, how do you do it? How do you keep track of everything and everyone? If you have a system, app, mantra, or gnome who helps, let me know. PLEASE!!

Rant #1

A monument for a child at Galong, New South Wa...

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Please allow me to postpone the second post in the I’m a Basic series. I need to vent. I’ve often said (jokingly… most of the time) that a permit should be required to pro-create. The events (and a particular case) of the last week have made me believe this to be true.  If you don’t want a child:

  1. Don’t get pregnant
  2. If you get pregnant, put the child up for adoption
  3. If you choose to keep the child, act like a RESPONSIBLE ADULT and care for it.

After working the negligent homicide of a three year old little girl due to the parents (both of them) being irresponsible douche bags with no regard for the human life they brought into this world, I’m left wondering why the man upstairs allows children to be given to people who don’t deserve them, and for all intents and purposes torture them, when there are thousands of loving, caring couples and singles who desperately want a child and can provide them with all the love, care, and material things they need.  I don’t like the weak being hurt, especially when they can’t defend themselves, and ESPECIALLY when it’s a child.

Thus endeth the sermon.

Criminal Pro-Tip #5

Vandalism

Image by vrt3 via Flickr

Facebook is not your friend.  Facebook videos are DEFINITELY not your friend.  If you’re going on a felonious vandalism spree, putting video of you and your friends committing said vandalism will not help your case in court.

I’m a Basic, not a child

English: Mayport, Fla. (Jan. 19, 2007) - Firef...

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Any EMT with more than a month on the streets has worked with that Medic. The one who gives all the others a bad name. The one that sees you as a driver and a janitor, and not much else. There are several names for this Medic, most of which are not considered polite for normal conversation. I call him/her the Paragod. Paragods are the ones that think your title should be “ambulance driver”, your sole purpose is to stock the truck and lift the patient, and when asked a question, fires off a quick “you’re just an EMT, you wouldn’t get it.”

My typical response is something similar to “you’re more than welcome to drive AND treat your patient if you don’t want me here,” which usually gets me a stern talking to from the Commander and another station change. All this being said, what can we do as a collective to “re-educate” the Paragod that we’re more valuable than we’re treated. Before you say “you can’t teach a dumb dog new tricks,” lets think about it. What value IS a basic on an ALS truck, really?

The obvious first response is “driver,” which makes my nuts hurt. But it’s also a valuable part of an ALS team. As I’ve pointed out numerous times, albeit usually to my detriment, one cannot treat a patient and drive a bus at the same time. The other obvious response is “manual laborer,” i.e., the one who works with his back while the Paragod works with his brain. This one gives me a testicular twinge as well, but like it’s predecessor, is also a necessary part of the team.

Keep in mind, even though the focus of this post is the Paragod, I have worked with some AWESOME Medics that I would follow into the bowels of hell with a smile on my face. What I’ve noticed about these Medics is that they consider you a valuable part of the team, and express the sentiment. One Medic in particular, which I regularly refer to as my Mentor, has a favorite saying: “We’re partners. You go, we go.” This goes a LONG way when you’re spending 24 hours together in close quarters and environments that are less than ideal.

So how do we get the Paragod to accept us as a “partner,” instead of a “flunky?” Suggestions, anyone?

1st World Woes

English: The box of the iPhone 4S.

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So, Mrs. TP got me a brand new shiny iPhone 4S for Christmas. I am eternally greatful that my lovely bride feeds the dragon that is my gadget addiction. That being said, this thing is turning out to be a pain in the turd cutter.

The first one works good, EXCEPT when it’s roaming. No calls in, no calls out, and NO data when it’s not on the home network. Now I can deal with no calls, but this lack of data has GOT to stop. I call the carrier, they do their trouble shooting, and tell me I need a replacement.

So I waddle my happy ass into the store and walk out with another shiny, brand new phone. Life is good. Except, it’s not. Now I have a brand new replacement phone with the EXACT same damn problem. FML!

A call to Apple later, they pawn me off on the carrier again. Two hours on the phone with the carrier, a transfer back to Apple, and a transfer BACK to the carrier, I get told to take it back to the store for a replacement.

Now, me not being a quitter, I have devised a game plan in true TP manner: I shall do at LEAST two phone replacements a day until I get a phone that works, or my carrier and/or Apple file a restraining order. Game on, Piglets!

UPDATE:  Third time was the charm.  No restraining order was issued, and I have a FULLY working phone.  Power to The Pig!

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