Over Roger

Over the past few months I have taken time out of my practicing for a roadside sobriety test, to watch more television.

Part of our household’s watching habits include police shows.  There are programs that show cops attempting to stop speeders of negligent drivers cruising about without license plate lights, shows that stop people from driving inebriated, and those programs compiled with dash-cam videos in all sorts of post-stop shenanigans.

No matter what form we watch, though, the cops enjoy using cryptic vocal communications such as 10-7, 10-62, and 10-79.

Not being a cop, I have little clue as to what most of those codes mean, and my sainted wife is even more at sea.

Highway Patrol with Chief Dan Matthews

Although I grew up watching Highway Patrol in black and white in the early days of television, I learned something from Chief Dan Matthews, played by Broderick Crawford.

In those police cars, were radios looking as though they came straight out of the Egyptian pyramids.  They were a version of a black Bakelite telephone receiver which required the speaker to gaze off into the sky while talking.

Sentences were in the variety of, “10-17 10-20 Spongecake Highway; 10-59 10-12.”

I learned 10-4 means “Okay”; 10-3 is “Stop transmitting”; 10-7 is “Out of service”; 10-20 represents “Location”; and 10-95 is “Subject in custody.”

Sure, all this seems puzzling to the police novice, but years of practice allowed me to learn these codes, much in the same vein as one would learn French.

My sainted wife, however, is too impatient to use a learning curve to make watching these police programs more informational and enjoyable.

Our conversation throughout is usually, “What did he say?” or, “Is he going for doughnuts?”

Even more confusing is the next level, the Eleven Code.  Ten Codes are special; Eleven Codes are even more special.  I’m not even going to breach the “Code Signals.”  No kidding.

In full disclosure, these codes have been in use since the police radio systems began use in the 1920’s.  This was an effort to abbreviate yakking on the radio, and make messages more concise, while hopefully eliminating confusion.

While this tack may be helpful to police, fire, and EMS personnel, it is generally baffling to civilians seeking emergency news via radio scanners, and watching television shows incorporating them in their storylines.

But here’s the rub.  These codes, although used by police departments nation-wide, are not standardized.

Very often the codes used by local police agencies are different from those used by the state police, EMS, and even the local sheriff.

So, in theory, all this code business is better than dry socks on a wet day.  Still, it is not standardized which could possibly lead to terrible miscommunication in critical and dire situations.

10-7.

Random Thoughts V

Time has arrived for more astute observations from yours truly.  Indeed, the vodka was flowing freely as were the ever-popular random thoughts.  This is the fifth iteration, indicated by the Roman numeral “V”, which is representative for 5.  Think of the Superbowl numbering.

• Why are there so few Episcopalian suicide bombers?
• Where is Colin Kaepernick working these days?  Want fries with that burger?
• Corvettes shouldn’t be that expensive.  They’ve been made since 1953, after all.
• I wish toilet paper was stronger.
• What makes all the stuff in the back of the fridge turn blue?
• Does the deaf guy select the background music for Walmart?
• I really hate mimes.
• If dolphins are so smart, why can’t they invent scissors to cut themselves out of fishing nets?
• There are so many stupid people in the world.
• The word “racist” now means “You disagree with me.”
• They put a computer and 1000 songs inside my cell phone; how about inventing a watch battery that lasts more than a year?
• Isn’t St. Valentine’s Day a religious holiday?  How about that separation of church and state?
• Let’s not forget about Christmas.
• College grads are unable to find jobs.  How’s that Master’s degree in 17^th Century English Poets working out for you?
• It would appear as though Maxine Waters is off her meds again.
• My wife just got ‘carded’ at the wine store; she’s not in high school, either.
• I nearly won the $400,000,000 Powerball!  I just missed by six numbers.
• The garage wanted to “rotate tires” on my truck.  I told them they rotate themselves when I drive.  Thanks anyway.
• Most politicians had better be sprucing up their résumés.  There’s another election right around the corner.
• Why isn’t Hillary Clinton in a federal prison?
• The mainstream media never heard of Donna Brazil.
• The mainstream media is like an LP record skip with the words “Russian collusion.”
• Didn’t Eric Holder illegally send assault weapons to Mexican drug lords and gangs?  But that’s not collusion.
• Winter is too cold.
• Street thugs are cowards for using guns.  How about a good fist fight to settle a score?
• Nothing says ‘I want this job’ like a giant spider tattoo climbing out of your shirt collar.
• Please note:  Nose rings and eyebrow studs are just a bonus.
• You want $15 and hour for screwing up my order at some fast food joint?
• I’d spit in YOUR food for only $4 and hour.
• Is Saab still in business?
• Shhh!  If you listen, you can hear the death knell for Sears and Kmart.  RIP.
• Summer is too hot.
• Are there enough letters In LGBTQ?  And what does the “Q” stand for?  I thought that word was offensive.
• Do they make bandage strips for black people?
• I used to hate Mondays when I was working.  And I used to love Fridays.
• Now, everyday is the same.  No stress.
• Gas is cheap everywhere in America except for the Eastern Shore.  Why?
• Are figs on the ‘endangered species’ list?  Why are they so expensive?
• Fox News Channel is on the road to self-destruction.  They changed the best of their lineup to likely commit suicide.
• God bless President Donald Trump!

Thanks for visiting and reading.  Come back next week for more good stuff.  And just for the summer, all our stories are FREE!

Waste of Time

When businesses promise things they really can’t deliver, they call it “overselling.”

Overselling is not something to take lightly.  For instance, driverless cars are being promised but, they are no closer to being reality than flying gas ranges.  Still, we are told they are just around the corner.

I think it would be great if I could visit my local watering hole for some Olympic-class drinking.  Then, I could climb into my self-driving Yugo for a safe trip home.  Along the way, a state trooper might stop me to learn why I was seated in the passenger portion, rather than the driver’s area, where the steering wheel and other driving necessities are located.

All this has the makings of a sitcom.  Yet, it is overselling those miraculous vehicles which may, or may not, be available upon my demise.

Since I loved it since I was a little kid, it was with interest that I read about the National Aeronautics Space Administration’s big announcement of an upcoming rocket launch.

In early spring, NASA plastered the news with stories about a rocket experiment based upon something they dubbed Terrier-Improved Malemute Mission.

Not only does it contain lots of big words, they are also generally undefined and sufficiently vague.

This mission was promised to launch a rocket into the sky then, after 3 to 5 minutes, some soda can-sized canisters would be deployed to explode and dazzle people from New York State to North Carolina.  You see, these canisters contained various chemicals that would turn vivid colors and amaze the less-educated among us.  The more astute would be studying cloud drift and effects of the wind on these brilliant vapors.

This whole exercise began in some weeks ago, with a series of errors postponing this scientific exercise.

Excuses such as too many clouds, too much rain, not enough clouds, some crabbing boat in the launch zone, a sailboat convoy passing through the Eastern Shore, Father’s Day celebration, a Delmarva Shorebird’s loss, the dog ate the launch codes, Uber was running late, and my car wouldn’t start, were just a few reasons for the delays.

Finally, today, June 29^th, that Terrier-Improved Malemute Mission was scheduled to launch.

My sainted wife, Smokey, and I, were the only stirring creatures awake for the 4:25 AM launch.  That’s right, 4:25 in the morning.  This is the 14^th try, and I was prepared for each launch.

Bleacher-style seating on my deck provided a viewing platform second-to-none.  All three of us took our places in anticipation of this spectacular, once-in-a-lifetime showing presented by the nation’s premier rocket launching agency.  I suppose it’s the only rocket launching agency.  But I digress.

A portable marine radio helped listen to the communications over the horizon with a United States Coast Guard representative barking out orders and times.

This is where it is good to point out I live six miles form NASA’s Wallops Island launch facility.  The only thing blocking my view is a stand of gnarly old trees.  Otherwise, my view would be prefect.

The Coast Guard voice crackled over the radio, “T-Minus 30 seconds.”

I squirmed in my seat in anticipation of a breathtaking vision.  Then, “T-

Minus 10, 9, 8…”

And so it went until we saw a flash across the near pitch-black sky, and then heard the delayed sound of the engines firing.  Smokey stared at the cherry-red ball, and even my sainted wife took notice.

We patiently waited for the prescribed three minutes, then five, six, and seven. Eight minutes passed and we realized it was too dark to see anything.  The Coast Guard ceased broadcasting, a neighborhood dog began barking, and Smokey became bored.

It was at this time I realized we were amidst one of those overselling moments.

Morning website reports posted photos of the colorful dots of clods in the sky; we saw nothing.  If I was unable to see this spectacular, I’ll wager New Yorkers and North Carolinians were equally handicapped.

I now hate NASA.