by John Porter, ©2021

(Jun. 7, 2021) — All my life I have believed that all people have a right to their opinions and the right to express them without being punished for it. There is an opinion now being embraced by many people in this country, including Senators, Representatives, mayors and governors, causing me to no longer hold to that belief because of their actions to express it. Actions are expressions, the same as words.

Any person who is in favor of, and working toward, “de-funding” our police forces should be “deported” from this country. Why do I think this? First, it falls under the definition of treason (the crime of betraying one’s country). Second, a nation without laws is a nation of tyranny (“a nation under cruel and oppressive government; cruel, unreasonable, or arbitrary use of power or control.”) A nation without law enforcers is a nation in which murder, rape, and robbery run rampant. Laws are of no value whatsoever without someone to enforce them.

Every city, county and state in the United States of America should not be “defunding” our law enforcers, BUT ISSUING SUBSTANTIAL PAY INCREASES TO THEM!!

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  1. The Following is from the Television Show “Dragnet”

    Jack Webb as Sgt. Joe Friday delivers the following soliloquy about the trials and tribulations of being a police officer to a rookie undercover police officer (Kent McCord) suspected of robbing a liquor store.

    It is awkward having a policeman around the house. Friends drop in, a man with a badge answers the door, the temperature drops 20 degrees.

    You throw a party, and that badge gets in the way. Suddenly there is not a straight man in the crowd. Everybody is a comedian. “Don’t drink too much,” somebody says, “or the man with a badge will run you in.” Or “How’s it going, Dick Tracy? How many jaywalkers did you pinch today?” And then there is always the one who wants to know how many apples you stole.

    All at once you lost your first name. You are a cop, a flatfoot, a bull, a dick, John Law. You are the fuzz, the heat; you are poison, you are trouble, you are bad news. They call you everything, but never a policeman.

    It is not much of a life, unless you do not mind missing a Dodger game because the hotshot phone rings. Unless you like working Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays, at a job that does not pay overtime. Oh, the pay’s adequate– if you count pennies, you can put your kid through college, but you better plan on seeing Europe on your television set.

    And then there is your first night on the beat. When you try to arrest a drunken prostitute in a Main St. bar, and she rips your new uniform to shreds. You will buy another one– out of your own pocket.

    And you are going to rub elbows with the elite– pimps, addicts, thieves, bums, winos, girls who cannot keep an address and men who don’t care. Liars, cheats, con men– the class of Skid Row.

    And the heartbreak– underfed kids, beaten kids, molested kids, lost kids, crying kids, homeless kids, hit-and-run kids, broken-arm kids, broken-leg kids, broken-head kids, sick kids, dying kids, dead kids. The old people nobody wants– the reliefers, the pensioners, the ones who walk the street cold, and those who tried to keep warm and died in a $3 room with an unventilated gas heater. You will walk your beat and try to pick up the pieces.

    Do you have real adventure in your soul? You better have because you are going to do time in a radio car. Oh, it is going to be a thrill a minute when you get an unknown-trouble call and hit a backyard at two in the morning, never knowing who you will meet– a kid with a knife, a pill-head with a gun, or two ex-cons with nothing to lose.

    And you are going to have plenty of time to think. You will draw duty in a lonely car, with nobody to talk to but your radio.

    Four years in uniform and you will have the ability, the experience and maybe the desire to be a detective. If you like to fly by the seat of your pants, this is where you belong. For every crime that is committed, you have got three million suspects to choose from. And most of the time, you will have few facts and a lot of hunches. You will run down leads that dead-end on you. You will work all-night stakeouts that could last a week. You will do leg work until you are sure you have talked to everybody in the state of California.

    People who saw it happen – but really did not. People who insist they did it – but really did not. People who do not remember – those who try to forget. Those who tell the truth – those who lie. You will run the files until your eyes ache.

    And paperwork? Oh, you will fill out a report when you are right, you will fill out a report when you are wrong, you will fill one out when you are not sure, you will fill one out listing your leads, you’ll fill one out when you have no leads, you’ll fill out a report on the reports you’ve made! You will write enough words in your lifetime to stock a library.

    You’ll learn to live with doubt, anxiety, frustration. Court decisions that tend to hinder rather than help you. You will learn to live with the District Attorney, testifying in court, defense attorneys, prosecuting attorneys, judges, juries, witnesses. And sometimes you are not going to be happy with the outcome.

    But there is also this: there are over 9,000 men and women in Los Angeles, who know that being a police officer is an endless, glamour less, thankless job that’s gotta be done. I know it, too, and I am glad to be one of them.


    Every city, county and state in the United States of America should not be “defunding” our law enforcers, BUT ISSUING SUBSTANTIAL PAY INCREASES TO THEM!!