1266 Rotating Commissioners

1266 Rotating Commissioners

Detective Sgt. Maria M. works out of a large Manhattan precinct. She is one of those smallish spitfire kind of women with the blazing eyes that keep the boys she runs in line without a word, even though she mostly has to look up when she gives them the death stare.

Twenty-two years in and still debating whether to retire or take the Lieutenant’s exam.  She already outranks her husband, a Detective/2nd and her father, a retired patrol officer.  And whether she wants to try for the next rung kind of depends on Bill Bratton, the next commissioner.

“You get this rotation. Kelly, Bratton.  Going to be one or the other of these guys until one of them falls off the face of the earth,” she says.  “it’s like they’re the only two top cops in America.”

At street level, where Maria works, you don’t notice a lot of difference.
“The mayor sets the policy and names the guy.  The guy sends memos and then holds press conferences, comforts victims, and shares the limelight with the Mayor when there’s a triumph or takes the rap alone when there’s a failure.”

“Kelly’s smart,” she says.  “He’s old.  He did a fine job after 9/11. He’s not paying attention to the stop and frisk thing.  He’ll get a great job with some private company that needs a big name security chief.  And I’ll bet the NYPD pension’s pretty good at his level, too.”

“Then, there’s Bratton.  I HATE that Boston accent.  All those years here and in L.A. and he still sounds like he just walked out of Fenway.”

“And that broken window thing of his, early detection, worked well when the main problem here was crackheads and turnstile jumpers and old Italian guys running the rackets.  Now, we have Arab terrorists and eco terrorists and animal rights terrorists, not to mention the Russians, the Ukrainians, the Colombians, the Mexicans, the Salvadorans, the Tong, the Viets.  None of these guys break windows, they break knees and heads.”

So what about stop and frisk?

“Look, chico, I’m a middle aged woman, a mother, a minority and a cop.  Any combination two of those things is more than enough to know who to stop and frisk and who to leave alone.”

So you’re going to be okay with Bratton, even with the Fenway Park accent?

“Doesn’t much matter here on the pavement, unless you’re Trayvon Martin or Abner Louima.”

So, did you vote for de Blasio?

“Nah. I live in Massapequa.”

(Note to readers: “Maria” isn’t her real name. But her rank and her years of service are accurate and so are her quotes.)

Shrapnel:

--The mail about the Mandela post was about 75-25 in favor/opposed. The 25 was much more fun.  I know I’m doing my job when I’m wrongly accused of being an uninformed belligerent racist, genocidal, pro-torture anti-semitic anti-Christian communist revolutionary fascist tribalist fan of old school African dictators.

--The post office of Canada says it is ready to phase out all home delivery, replacing it with community mailboxes of the kind you find in apartment houses and groups of townhouses.  They don’t mess around with public opinion on this stuff up north.  Example:  Years ago, they eliminated the one dollar bill and replaced it with a dollar coin and -- surprise, surprise -- no one died, unlike here where the mere thought of a pocket full of Sacagaweas sent millions of us into anaphylactic shock.

I’m Wes Richards.  My opinions are my own but you’re welcome to them. ®

Please address comments to wesrichards@gmail.com.

© WJR 2013