Twenty-One Years

Mrs. Chatterbox recently supervised her last National Night Out. Read about it (here).

 

Six Minutes

These six minutes could have happened anywhere. Check it out (here).

It's All Who You Know

Receiving a ticket from a cop is never pleasant, and sometimes getting out of one has a lot to do with who you know. In 1982 I knew the right person. Read about it (here).

Hookers

 

I’ve mentioned several times that Mrs. C. is the volunteer coordinator for our local police department. One of her tasks is to arrange for citizens to tour the police department. These tours are extremely popular, especially with seniors, Scouts and special needs groups. Mrs. C. and her volunteers do a stupendous job making these tours interesting, utilizing canine officers and even letting people examine the jail cells, unless they happen to be occupied. But every now and then my wife receives a comment that makes her shake her head. She recently took a call from an angry mom. Read about her conversation (here).

A Well-Written Police Report

 I don’t normally post newspaper clippings but this one made me laugh out loud and I couldn’t resist sharing it. Check it out (here).

 

The Grand Tour

As many of you know, Mrs. Chatterbox works for the local police department. One of her tasks is to give tours of city hall, where our police department is housed. On Friday she hosted a Cub Scout tour of forty-eight second graders. These tours are extremely popular with youngsters. Check (here) for  some of the interesting questions asked by these kids. 

 

Burglars

 

 Last night our niece returned to her Seattle home with her four month old baby in her arms. She confronted a burglar in her living room. The burglar fled and no one was harmed, but this incident reminded me of my one and only confrontation with a burglar.

Read about it (here.)

Six Minutes That Could Happen Anywhere

 

You might have heard about this on the news, but for me it’s personal; it happened in the building where my wife and son work.

The Police Records Department is located several yards inside the front door to our city hall. A thin young man, approximately eighteen years old, paced in the entryway before approaching the window and mumbling something.

Kathy (not her real name) was working the desk. “Could you repeat what you just said?”

What happened next made the national news. Read about it here.

King of Dorks-Part II

  This tale is a true account of my one and only childhood confrontation with the law in 1966. If you missed Part I, check it out (here). Part II is (here.)

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King of Dorks

 

 Many of you have asked for more stories about my friend, Ricky Delgado. This tale is a true account of my one and only childhood confrontation with the law in 1966. Of course Ricky had a lot to do with it. Read about it (here) at the new and improved Chubby Chatterbox.

Failure to Yield

Yesterday I drove into a traffic circle where three streets converged. I slowed down for the yield sign before entering and had just completed the curve onto another street when a traffic cop appeared from nowhere, lights blazing. Being pulled over was a new experience for me and I was curious to learn what I’d done to deserve it.

“What seems to be the problem, Officer?” I asked, sounding like a tweaker on Cops.

After requesting my driver’s license and proof of insurance he said, “You failed to yield before entering the traffic circle.”

“But I slowed down,” I explained.

“You didn’t yield.”

“Should I have stopped?”

“Don’t be a smart ass," he said. "The sign doesn’t say ‘stop.’ It says ‘yield.’”
True to the spirit of this blog, I couldn’t suppress my chatterbox nature. “Honestly, I’m not trying to be a smart ass, but this reminds me of that old chestnut: Does a falling tree in the forest make a sound it there’s no one there to hear it?”

He didn’t look amused.

I should have kept my mouth shut, but instead I asked, “Who am I yielding to if no one’s there?”

My court hearing is in two weeks.