Vigilant Californians halt gator advance!

Good news to report in the ongoing struggle against alligator attack!

Reconnaissance gator "Reggie", forward element of an invading army of dope-fueled stealth alligators headed for Los Angeles, was caught when he emerged from Lake Machado. Reggie had apparently turned soft from two seasons of easy living in southern California. Whether he was tempted by celebrity or merely the desire to look good, Reggie came out to get some sun and was promptly grabbed by wildlife officials who had gathered nearby to discuss how to capture him.

Reggie is shown here on his way to gator Gitmo. Hopefully the authorities in Los Angeles have access to skilled alligator whisperers to assist in the investigation.

Smart or stoopid?

This here quiz will let you know.

Have fun!

Good morning! It's time for another Random Ten!

Is This It—The Strokes

Ballad Of the Soldier's Wife—PJ Harvey

Steady As She Goes—The Raconteurs

That Old Black Magic—Louis Prima & Keely Smith

Crackity Jones—The Pixies

Everything You Can Think of is True—Tom Waits

Rebel Without a Pause—Public Enemy

Drain You—Nirvana

Feel Your Love Tonight—Van Halen

Draggin'—Curtis Gordon

Cicadas: no-show insect bastards

Well? Where are they? Huh?

Before and after

Other than the front porch, a few things are different. The leaves on the crabapple tree are no longer wilted and curled; it looks like we finally got rid of the apple scab that caused the leaves to wither and die off after the tree blossomed.

You can see a lot of the plants that we put in last year starting to come up. I wish I'd taken a photo a few weeks ago when all the daffodils were out. It was beautiful. The spice bush just left of the porch is filling in nicely, and the pagoda dogwood at the far left of the picture is doing well too. MizBubs can actually remember the names of all these plants, so if you got questions you're better off asking her. And, while the lawn may be patchy, it's not totally overrun with creeping charlie and dandelions like it was last year. It's all a work in progress.

If you're not creeped out, then I'm not doing my job

It's been a busy few days since returning from Florida. So many things going on, so much to write about, so little time to do it. We were lucky enough last week to finally participate in Johnny Yen's popular "Margarita Friday." Thanks to a 64 oz box of Fresh Island margarita mix on sale at Binny's Beverage Depot, and an unopened bottle of tequila that MizBubs found behind the tiki bar, "Margarita Friday" turned into "Margarita Saturday", followed closely by "Margarita Sunday".

Still, the weekend was productive. MizBubs and the girls spent the better part of the weekend working in the yard and garden. MizBubs, handiest gal in town, found the leak that was causing our pond to drain--thankfully it was a 2 inch split in the hose running from the pump up to the waterfall, so a pretty easy repair job, compared to tearing up several hundred pounds of concrete and stone. More on all that yard stuff later. Why?

Because now I'm here to talk about clown crime.

I didn't plan on blogging at all this week, but a couple of items jumped out at me and I felt compelled to bring them to your attention. Remember, it's almost Memorial Day, and that means that carnivals are on the move. And when the carny smells of deep fried fat, human sweat and cheap beer are in the air, the clown is close behind. Just as it is with alligators, the best defense against clown crime is constant vigilance!

A clown wearing a top hat robbed a Fredericksburg, Virginia CVS store of $6,000 worth of Oxycontin and Methadone.

Ronald Schroeder, better known as "Silly the Clown", is in custody in Waukesha, Wisconsin. He stands accused of raping his unconscious girlfriend. Silly took photos of the event, and when cops arrested him they also (surprise!) seized child porn on his computer. You can read the criminal complaint here. Alcohol was involved.

Schroeder should probably have called himself "Stalker the Clown" since he had two restraining orders filed against him in the past.

Schroeder's case involves computers, email and messaging. Is there a trend here? Remember, just a few weeks ago popular Colorado children's entertainer "Giggles the Clown" got arrested for using the internet to lure an underage sex partner.

Authorities in Tuscon, Arizona recently convicted half of a quartet of criminals known as the "Clown Robbers." A closer examination of this case, however, revealed that the offenders were not actually working clowns, but merely common criminals who wore clown disguises.

They're always watching

Saturday Morning Children's Hour

Hi! It's time for a special feature here at the Compound:

Saturday Morning Children's Hour!

Inspired by all the good cartoon programming on Saturday morning, I've decided to offer a nice, family-friendly bit of entertainment for readers with kids.

Today's feature is courtesy of Splotchy. Gather round for a poignant coming of age story that he posted on his blog recently. Without further ado, Sprawling Ramshackle Compound proudly presents

The Velveteen Cockroach

Human Fly

"We're the Cramps, and we're from New York City..."

Johnny Yen mentioned this video, shot at a mental hospital, in a comment on his blog. And then I realized I haven't put up any Cramps videos in a while. So here's a Cramps video:

On, Wisconsin!

Police in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin, arrested a man who claimed to be a werewolf:

39 year old Robert Marsh, recently released from jail, now returned, was charged with disorderly conduct, criminal damage to property, and criminal trespass. He also had a bag of weed on him; technically this story, then, does not fall in the category of "narcozoology", but rather an even more obscure science: narco-cryptozoology.

Police reported that Marsh spoke to them in "what sounded like a medieval sounding language." Since this occurred in Wisconsin, Marsh is fortunate that he didn't break into the apartment of a sword-wielding RenFaire freak.

And, once again, since it is Wisconsin, we should be grateful that the werewolf inside Robert Marsh's head wasn't a necrophiliac.

Friday Random Ten: It's good to be home edition

Mon Legionnaire—Edith Piaf

Smokestack Lightning—The Yardbirds

Yeah, I'm Movin'--Jimmy Patton

Clampdown—The Clash

King of the Surf—The Trashmen

Whip It—Devo

Hep Cat—Larry Terry

Warrior—Yeah Yeah Yeahs

Frankly Mr. Shankly—The Smiths

Take Me Home With You, Baby—Jessie Mae Hemphill

Florida was OK, I guess...

Florida will not destroy me

The Waffle House around the corner from my hotel is full of rock slingers and rednecks, and their grits were lumpy. The wildfires have created a "smoke layer" that the pilot has to warn you about as you approach Jacksonville, so that you don't panic if you smell smoke in the cabin as the plane descends. I discovered that, when you see a sign at the beach that warns you not to swim because of "dangerous rip tides" and the wind is 30 mph, it's a good idea not to swim.

None of this matters; Florida will not destroy me.

I've been on the ground since 7:30 EST Sunday night. The wildfires have apparently driven the alligators deeper into their swamp dens--I didn't have to drive over a single one in the hotel parking lot, or on my way to meet the client. I almost feel cheated. Normally the gators are scampering around down here like squirrels in Grant Park.

I just finished the second night of surveillance and I'm sneaking in a quick post while I finish my beer. Then it's nap time, and then back to interview some people for the rest of the work day. I think I've successfully killed off whatever circadian rhythm I had left.

On a positive note, I had a great shack dining experience at Singletons: a great meal of raw oysters and fried sheephead, washed down with a cheap longneck beer. Singleton's is right next to the 1A ferry landing, next to the Navy base. The pelicans kept me company. Pelicans are regal birds; regal and ridiculous at the same time, which is cool. I got to see the absolute frenzy that hundreds of gulls and pelicans flew into when some shrimping boats came in. Amazing.

Another positive: I found out that, after 1am, I got really good reception for WSM Nashville. I gotta tell you, it's pretty cool to be up all night in a creepy industrial area, sitting alone in your car waiting for something to happen, with old-time hillbilly music as your soundtrack. When the train whistle sounded down the road it created a perfect moment. Made me wish I smoked cigarettes and wore a fedora so I could've felt more like Robert Mitchum.

I better get some sleep.

Mothers Day Bacon

Hey you.

Be a good sport and fix up some meat products for mom. She'll thank you for it!

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mothers Day to all you moms out there.

I know I promised Coaster Punchman some dead mother-in-law stories today, but I've had a last minute job come up and I'm leaving for sunny Florida this afternoon. As of right now, the trip is not alligator-related, but we all know that can change in a heartbeat. If I have some down time at the fabulous traveling bidnessman's hotel where I'm staying, I'll try to post something.

And the rest of you? Listen, if your mother's still around, give her a call. She misses you.

Lucky Friday Random Ten

Today ended much better than it started--surprisingly well, in fact. I got home and hit the shuffle and here's what came up:

Rock and Roll—The Velvet Underground

Sweet Jane—Gang of Four

I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down—Elvis Costello

Remember Me—Willie Nelson

My Tornado—The Raveonettes

James Bond Theme—Moby

Fujyama Mama—Wanda Jackson

Thunderbird—The Casual-Aires

I'm Sticking With You—The Velvet Underground

A Brand New Me—Dusty Springfield

No margaritas today, but I picked up a case of Bass Ale from Costco on sale for $9.95 and I'm sitting here getting a good beer buzz on watching Suddenly, Last Summer with MizBubs, our eldest and eldest's boyfriend. It's a good night.

I hope y'all have a great weekend!

Amputee criminals I have known

I could see that losing a couple of limbs at a young age could make you angry as hell. Take a look at Michael Wiley's mug shot and you can see the classic white trash criminal look--that sullen awareness that somehow you've been screwed, badly, in ways you're only dimly aware of, you're pissed off about it, and you no longer really give a shit. You've lost the normal person's instinct for self-preservation, and you'll do all kinds of crazy reckless shit just to prove a point.

I'd make Wiley for a wife beater if he had arms to beat her with. There's a unique combination of self-perceived victimhood, resentment and anger; you see it a lot in white trash criminals.

The reason I mention this is that Michael Wiley is not the first amputee criminal I've heard of. Matter of fact, we arrested an amputee years ago in the process of committing a residential burglary. Let's call him "Hooks."

Hooks is his actual street name. He's a gang member and is well known on the northwest side of Chicago; his younger brother is in prison for murder. Hooks lost both his arms up to the elbows in an incident involving electric wires. I've heard different versions, but all of them involved his fleeing from police as a youngster. He received a large settlement as a result of his injuries. Hooks got a lump sum and then a series of monthly payments of $5,000, and he bought a house just off Devon Avenue. For a long time his mom and dad lived there, even though they were divorced, because neither one of them wanted to move away from the cash cow that was their son. I had a sheepish moment when we served the search warrant at his house--I forgot to bring the copy of the warrant that you're supposed to give the homeowner when you kick their door in. I had to run back to the station and grab the copy while my coworkers searched the home.

Anyway, at the time we got him he had a pretty good heroin habit, and he was doing residential burglaries pretty frequently. Our guys caught him coming out of a house, and one of my fellow detectives freaked out when he went to grab him and handcuff him, and found only stubs. They ended up binding his stumps to his body with a belt, and attaching manacles to his ankles.

Hooks was well-known for his ability to hot-wire cars with his stumps, and his ability to work the slide on, and fire, semi-auto pistols. When I talked to him I asked him why, with his money, he didn't just head for some beach in Mexico and hang out drinking and getting hummers from some good looking girl. He didn't know why he didn't. He bragged that he'd done dozens of burglaries before the one he got locked up for.

I'm pretty sure he's fathered some kids since then.

Last I heard of him, he's living with the widowed mother of a fellow gang member, a friend of his, who lives in our town. Side note: the friend died of an overdose in the house a few years ago. Before that Hooks' friend had committed a sexual assault there. So far four people have died in that house--grandma of natural causes, dad (hanging suicide in the garage) a fellow gang member who overdosed on heroin, and then the friend. I think Hooks has a pit bull now, and one of our officers saw him riding a scooter down the street a few months ago. The scooter kept stalling because Hooks was having a hard time working the throttle with his nubs.

It's not always Germany or Florida. Sometimes it's right here at home.

Florida cops finally catch fugitive driver

Police were initially stumped by his disappearance, but they caught up with him eventually.

You can read about him here.

Something nice for a Thursday morning

A little something for you Who fans, courtesy of Sir Tom Jones:

Coaster Punchman reveals the man behind the myth

I've gone interview happy.

A couple of weeks ago bombshell CPS teacher Lulu interviewed me, giving me a welcome chance to talk about myself.

Now I get the chance to entertain questions from urban sophisticate Coaster Punchman, the interweb's best-loved strategic sales executive. It's a classic confrontation: a slick member of the east coast elites grilling a simple middle-American cop. C.P. has been busy lately, fielding questions from Beth, Lulu and Melinda June. But he's a multi-tasker, and he's found the time in his busy schedule to send me these questions:

1. Put the following breaches of public decorum in order of how much they annoy you. Compare/contrast.
1. Littering
2. Cutting in line
3. Graffiti (the illegal kind)
4. Spitting on the sidewalk
5. Honking unnecessarily
6. Improper attire (e.g. flip flops at a funeral, or being naked from the waist down while pleasuring oneself in one’s car.)

1-Littering
2-Improper attire
3-Cutting in line
Honking unnecessarily
Graffiti
Spitting on the sidewalk

Littering just pisses me off to no end. It's like a big f*ck you to the whole world, the self-centered desire to have someone else pick up after you writ large. A very close second is improper attire. I remember the days when people dressed up to travel by airplane. I think we all looked classier then. I refuse to own a velour track suit even for joke value. It bugs me to go to a swanky restaurant and see guys sitting there in baseball hats. Don't get me started on fannypacks. The only time a fannypack is permissible is if you're using it to conceal a handgun. I'm also tired of seeing people shamble into church on Sunday wearing short pants and carrying their Starbucks. In my opinion you owe it to the people around you to look as nice as you can.

Cutting in line follows at a distance; it still represents a lack of courtesy, but so many people are driven to distraction by their frantic schedules that they may not notice how rude they're being. The rest are just nuisances, and the person spitting on the sidewalk might be doing it as part of a ritual to ward off a hex, or the evil eye. Can't get mad at that.

2. You are obviously an excellent writer. Do any of your law enforcement friends possess a similar ability to string multiple sentences together in such an entertaining manner? And would you let any of them read your blog?

You are a world class flatterer, aren't you? Other than reports, I've never seen any writing samples from my coworkers. Most of them are excellent conversationalists, though. We spend a lot more time talking than writing.

I haven't shown anyone at work my blog, but it wouldn't bother me if they found it. While I'm not that concerned with concealing my identity, I make a point not to mention my department by name. You never know who's going to take offense, and there have been multiple cases around the country of cops getting disciplined for material they put on their personal web pages. I've never compromised anyone's privacy on here, or mentioned case specifics, so I think I'd be ok.

3. Judy or Barbra?

Judy. Her life was a glorious train wreck; Barbra bores me. Plus, as a young woman, MizBubs bore a more than passing resemblance to the young Judy Garland.

4. Setting aside for a moment the fact that you met a wonderful woman, married her and had lovely children, tell us about one or two of the happiest moments in your life. (Meeting your spouse, marrying her and having kids are out because those answers would be too obvious.)

I've never settled for the easy answers, CP, and I'm glad you don't either.

I thought of a few moments, and checked them with my family to make sure that my happiness was not just in my head, but was visible to others. Here they are, in no particular order:

-When I finished my first Chicago Marathon in 1999. I can't describe the absolute rush that was for me, a 37 year old, overweight, cigar smoking asthmatic with an arthritic knee, to complete that. Granted, I ran like I had a piano on my back, but I finished upright and still running.

-When MizBubs' birth mother died on my birthday in 2001. She was truly one of the worst people I've ever met in my life (and I'm including my professional life). To give you an idea of how bad she was, one of her sons sidled up to me the day of the funeral and said "so, a guy couldn't ask for a better birthday present, huh?" Seriously, though, her passing lifted a dark cloud over our entire extended family, and I was happy to see it.

-When I'm traveling, seeing places I've never been before, especially if I'm outside in a wild place.


5. If you could choose one thing about the world that you would change, what would it be and why?

You know, I've never even thought of that. I suppose I'd like to take all of our cumulative knowledge, save it, and then turn back the clock to the mid-1800's. Hopefully we'd behave better and ravage our earth less if we had a second chance.

Wait. Does that count as more than one thing?