Hero cops reprimanded in gator incident

This story is from southside bureau chief Dena.

Two intrepid cops in Altamonte Springs, Florida, called on to confront a rogue alligator rampaging through an apartment complex, took quick and decisive action. They wrestled the gator into submission, saving God knows how many lives in the process.

Are they being feted like heroes? Commended for their actions?

No. They are being "counseled" which in police administrative jargon is the first step on the disciplinary ladder, right before verbal or written reprimand. That's right--instead of turning that gator into a 4-legged lead mine with whatever firepower they had handy, they went hands-on to neutralize the threat. No ricocheting bullets, no collateral damage. And now some police administrator, obviously soft on the issue of gator violence, wants to "counsel" them.

Sheesh. People wonder why cops burn out.

I can only hope that department's narcotics investigators take a close look at the residents of that apartment complex. Narcozoology tells us that, if alligators lurk in a residential area, so does the dope fiend.

What's the deal with the Royal Air Force?

This recent post by Lulu reminded me of a story I saw last week. Lulu has fine taste in pinup art, and she graced her post with some wonderful vintage nose art. Nose art is a fine military tradition going back to WWI, and frequently it's pinup-themed. Cartoon characters are popular too; during WWII the Women Airforce Service Pilots (WASP) asked if they could use a Disney character named Fifinella as their mascot. Americans are widely credited with popularizing nose art during WWII, and the Brits probably adopted the practice from them.

The Royal Air Force has now banned pinup-themed nose art, going so far as to order one unit in Afghanistan to scrub the images from their aircraft. Why? Because it might offend Muslims (in the countries they're bombing?), or women serving in the RAF.

The RAF has not received a single complaint from any of the 5,000+ women serving. I can't believe that all those truck bombers are pissed off about a Page 3 Girl.

No blog is an island

I am not (yet) a reclusive, booze-addled, gun-happy crank. I love socializing and talking, so I felt more than a little embarrassed that it took me this long to link to some of my favorite sites. Please accept my apology for not doing so sooner. I'm still figuring this out, and going through my bookmarks to find more stuff to link to. I imagine that within a week or two there will be quite a few more blogs up there, and a whole bunch more pop culture and political bullshit.

The snow's been shoveled two and a half times so far, and I'm sure there's more to come. I'm not beefing--you'd have to be a real whiner to complain about this snow after seeing what got dumped on NY state last week. I've been on the phone with work about a half dozen times today because some high-ranking clown is upset that I left my car parked in the department lot. We went to my niece's birthday party Saturday, and MizBubs suggested that she pick me up at work rather than wait for me to drive home and leave from there. I would've picked up the car sooner, but I didn't need it. Anyway, rather than just call me directly, bozo, undoubtedly cranked up by a couple of scheming cronies, spent the entire day pestering my friend who's working today and is the acting commander while our boss is on vacation. My friend, under orders, has had to call me every time and report back to bozo--yes, Joe is going to move his car, some time later today after his daughter gets home from school. Honest to God, if we spent half the effort on real police work that we do on peripheral chickenshit like cleaning the parking lot, or replacing the hat shields and bands on the uniform hats, there'd be no crime. I'll go in later tonight, after all the day shift hall monitors have gone home, and get my car. I want them to see it as they leave work and go home upset.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, and I hope everyone has someone special to spend some time with. If you don't, I hope one's on the way.

I want to sign off on an up note, so here's a little Bettie Page, looking like she's wearing her Valentine's Day bustier and shoes. Dig that hep mid-century furniture in the background.