Transportation in Lima

So you're traveling to Lima, probably on your way to some guidebook paradise.  It's a big city.  How do you get around?

Well, you have a few options.

Walking
Yes, you can in fact walk.  Lima is not a walking city.  It's a place where the car is king and therefore its not always the most pedestrian friendly.  They give right of way to highways meaning you can lose a sidewalk here and there.  But fear not, because Lima has poor people and poor people walk. So when the sidewalk ends, just look for a goat path and there will be people who have blazed their own trail.  Oh, and get used to the smell of exhaust.  It's like the natural scent of the city.

Collectivos

These are buses.  They look like buses and there's a driver who takes your money.  They don't seem to be run by the city, so they're all different colors but usually have the destinations on the side so you can figure it out.  Good idea to have a map to point to so you can make sure the bus doesn't take any crazy turns.   

Micros

These are small buses.  And there's a lot more of them, and they're all private so there's some competition.  They have two employees.  One is a driver.   The other is the guy in the photo.  He is way too calm in this photo.  Basically as the Micro approaches a stop, which is where more than 1 person happens to be standing.  Even if they're only there because they had to fart and they were scared it might be a shart so they stopped to compose themselves.  As the Micro approaches 20 mph, the side door opens and this guy hangs out of it yelling and screaming random destinations and self-help slogans.

Honestly, I would pass on these.  I'm sure they transport thousands of Limenos safely to their destinations every day, but as someone who's Spanish isn't great, its a lot of pressure.  These things are wild.

El Metropolitano

As mentioned earlier, this is the brandy-new Bus Rapid Transit (BRT) line in Lima.  And it's really popular and is able to bypass lots of traffic.  Which is good, because Lima has a lot of traffic.  You pay the fare at the above ground station and then walk down to the platform which is located in the median of the highway.  Some tips:

• Have cash.  Preferably small bills.  No one like the guy in front of him at the Dunkin Donuts that pays with a $100.  These people don't either. 
• The card costs 4.5 soles, so if you buy one with a 5 sole note, that means you only have .5 soles credit.  One of our guides lied and said that the card was 5 soles and came with 2 one-way rides.  Mentiroso! 
• The ride is 1.5 soles each way.  So budget accordingly.  

But the bus goes from the city center through Miraflores and San Isidro to Barranco, which is where most people are going to spend their time.  So it's a good deal if you're there for a few days.

Taxis

This is by far the most popular way to get around Lima.  The cabs are everywhere and some seem to just be personal cars.  But the important thing to know is that cabs in Lima do not use meters.  So you MUST decide the fare before you get in.  Cabs understand this and will actually queue behind each other while you discuss costs so they can try and make a better deal than the guy in front of them.  The general rule is 8-10 soles for most medium distances.  However, because traffic in Lima sucks they might charge more which makes sense.

This is a photo I took from my hotel balcony.  It's like a parking lot.  But that doesn't stop the horns.  A second on this.  Horns or Klaxons en espanol, in Lima are like an urban soundtrack.  People honk because they're angry, happy, or have gas.  There's really no rhyme or reason to it.  I recorded the noise to go with this photo, here. 


Peru is still viewed as a dangerous place, so Western hotels will take advantage of this and offer you the services of their taxis which can be nice Camrys or Audis.  These vehicles do not have turbo boost though and have to sit in the same traffic as the yellow deathbox shown above.  The hotels want 50 soles to take you to places that regular cabs will charge 8 soles for.  So here's the deal, never take the hotel cabs, unless you're a single female or wear suits of money.  The way I look at it, even if you get ripped off by your cab driver at 25 soles for the trip, you're still coming out ahead of the hotel gouging.

Oh, and you should look for these cabs as they're widely agreed by Limenos to be the most safe and reliable company.  

Subway

There's a subway in Lima, but it doesn't go anywhere that useful, and its not underground.  There is a second line being built underground, but the folks down there are skeptical what with the earthquakes and all.  So I'm not including it here because I didn't take it and it seems like I wasn't missing much.  

Lima: It's Not Just a Layover

Allyson and I just returned from Lima, Peru.  And the number one question we got from people was, "Where are you going after?" See, most people only visit Lima as a stopover on their way to Cuzco and/or Machu Piccu. They don't see much use in visiting a city of 10 million people when there are Incan ruins and Andean mountains to visit in the same country.  I can understand that.  But to visit ruins is to visit a country in the past.  The way past.

I think that to understand a country, you need to visit it's cities. I'm an urban traveler, being a city kid myself.  I have nothing against sights outside cities.  But I find it odd that people would skip over a place they have to go through anyway.  It would be like not spending time in London, and proceeding straight to Stonehenge.

Lima is a city of 10 million people.  Larger than any US city.  Also wild when you realize that Lima had only 1.2 million people in 1960.  You can see that the city has had trouble building infrastructure to meet the demand.  They recently started a BRT system call El Metropolitano that takes you across the city in special lanes without any of the traffic.  They also have a subway, which isn't really a subway, but more of a light rail.

So why visit Lima?  Well, that can be answered quite easily.

And...

Oh, and also....

So, food and drink is king in Lima.  And it's cheap.  Now, let me define cheap.  You can eat Pollo a la Brasa in Lima for around 10 soles.  That works out to be around $3.  But you can also pay more for a great dinner with incredibly fresh seafood for around 100 soles per person.  That works out to around $40 each, which might not seem cheap.

It's funny when you travel internationally to countries with a weaker currency than yours.  You end up comparing costs in their currency.  I was all "200 soles for dinner?  That's crazy!" but then I realized that $80 for wine and incredibly fresh seafood and dinner is a steal.  You hear that Americans! Stop trying to be cheap, because you'll end up eating stale churros and saving all your money to then spend double it in America.

People still think Peru is dangerous.  They remember the Shining Path, who were eliminated over 10 years ago.  While they were active, it was common for many people to hire private security for their homes or stores.  That tradition continues meaning that there are men in uniform all over the place, some armed and others not.  This sadly means that most tourists only stick to Miraflores and Barranco which are the two neighborhoods that all of the guidebooks recommend.  Lima is more than that.

I had the opportunity to take a tour with an outfit called Capital Culinaria run by a couple named Samantha and Lucas.  You pay $125 and spend about 5 hours eating food, trying new fruits and vegetables and also making cebiche and pisco sours.  It was awesome.  And highly recommended.  It really opened our eyes to the culinary destination that is Lima and helped shape our trip for the remainder.  Also, Sam and Lucas are really wonderful people and Allyson and I had dinner and wine with them the night after the tour.

That's really what travel is all about.  Building relationships.  I hope to post more specifically about different areas of Lima.

Ask A Cop: The Wire

So ever since I took the job as a cop, I've answered various questions about being a cop.  Many after current events, like police shootings.  So I thought it might be a decent idea to start a feature where people could ask questions and get them answered.  And in asking the good people of Twitter and Facebook for ideas for the feature, the leading question was, "Is the Wire realistic?"

For those not in the know, The Wire was a TV series that ran on HBO that centered on drug dealing and responses to it in Baltimore. It ran for 5 seasons and each season centered on a different area, like the docks or the schools, etc.  The most important thing about this show and its authenticity is where it came from.

The Wire was the creation of David Simon.  Simon grew up in Baltimore and covered the city for the Baltimore Sun, their daily paper.  Simon wrote a book about crime in Baltimore called Homicide: Life on The Killing Streets, which followed the Homicide Division of the Baltimore Police.  The book was then adapted to a show called Homicide: Life on The Streets which many people called "the greatest show nobody ever watched," Filmed on location in the Fells Point neighborhood of Baltimore, the set was so realistic that many people stopped in to file police reports, thinking it was real.  The show also challenged the notion that every murderer is captured in 45 minutes.  The cases spanned several episodes and sometimes seasons, and I'm not sure audiences had the patience for it.

Not having been a Baltimore cop/drug dealer/teacher/politician/reporter, I can't really say with absolute certainty whether the show was real.  But I will say it's one of the most realistic shows I've seen, along with Barney Miller and NYPD Blue. Sure, I've never waked a cop at a bar.  And I've never had sex with a prostitute to make a case.

But I have been the victim of COMPSTAT and of asshole bosses, and I've been really drunk with guys I worked with, and might have damaged my vehicle under the influence. I also recognized that some of the most important decisions of my police career were where to go to eat.  The Wire is not a procedural drama so its hard to compare to actual police work.  However, it is a character drama, and this is really where the comparison rings true.  Police officers, especially cops in large cities, are characters.  These are not the guys who were jocks in high school and pushed around the nerds and then became cops.  These were guys who were Elvis Impersonators, electricians, from all different nationalities.  Learning how to understand Jamaican or how to expertly curse in Spanish were very important parts of my law enforcement development

So yes, the Wire is realistic.  Not really for all the stuff that happens in it, but for the way it feels and the  ease in which the cops talk to each other and work together.  There are 1,000 Hercs in the NYPD and more than a few Bunks and McNultys.  And we have plenty of lesbians as well.

If people liked this, I'm happy to continue.  Feel free to put additional questions in the comments, if you have them.

The Probe has Returned

So, I heard from some of you that this whole gastrointestinal posting was a little too much information and I can understand that.  The experience really wasn't that bad, as compared to the prep, which reminded me of this oldie but a goodie from SNL.




Anyway, as I was leaving the doctor's office, he came up to me with this huge smile and said "You owe me some beers, man.  That polyp I removed was huge!" And he said it while laughing.  I'm guessing he's not concerned about this, which means I won't be concerned about this, which normally I'd be concerned about.  They're doing the biopsy now and I'll have the results in less than a week.  Turns out I have a history of colon cancer in the fam, so it's a good thing I went under.  My brother just made his appointment.  I told him to look at the guy's hands when he shakes them to judge the size of his fingers.

And the Mets suck.  That's all.

Oh Goodness

Apologies for not writing.  Given the fact I've been running to the can, its not been easy to blog.  I will say that the stuff you have to drink isn't terrible, but its thicker than water which makes it tough to keep chugging.  This isn't terrible actually, but my time in the bathroom has been most enlightening.

Sending a Camera to Uranus

So Monday I'm having a procedure that requires the following things.  Can anyone guess what it is?

• TriLyte
• Ducolax tablets
• 2 Fleet enemas

Well, if you haven't already guessed what wonders of science I'm going to enjoy, I'll tell you.  I'm getting a colonoscopy!  That's right.  A giant Nigerian man is going to put a camera up my ass and snake that thing like a plumber.  And the above meds are all designed to have me completely empty my nether regions so its not like scuba diving in the Hudson.  That Trilyte is a gallon of solution and apparently tastes like ass, so there are flavor packets.

Some of you who know me may have heard my story about previous issues with my doctor in Boston and my rectal health.  Suffice it to say, its an in person story and not for eyes and ears of children.  But it was there I discovered I had hemorrhoids like the rest of America.  Some of you also may remember my other odd medical checks, like my mammogram.  I really believe in getting the most out of my healthcare.  

Anyway, I'm not expecting anything serious.  I have unexplained urgency sometimes which causes me to go from 0 to "Holy Shit I need to go" and that's not always convenient.  So my doctor, said aforementioned giant Nigerian, said this would be relatively simple.  Actually the words he used were "A monkey could do this," which made me laugh and then wonder if there actually was going to be a monkey doing this.  That would probably be the only thing Aetna would cover.  Humans doing the procedure is probably the higher tiered plan.

So tomorrow I do my flush and I'll be blogging about it, just for you dear readers.  Because you need to know what this is like.  I am all about public service clearly.  This also means I'm eating a lot of red meat today.  Just to pass it all tomorrow.  I feel like if I'm spending time on the can tomorrow, I might as well make it worth it, right?  

Travel Blogging

So this blog is many things, and therefore not much.  But I like the freedom it allows me and therefore I am fine with the fact that it will never be too popular because the format is varied.  But I have a strong interest in travel, specifically miles, and so I am going to be starting a travel segment with some tips and advice.

My Mom called me and asked about booking a flight and then asked if she should call the airline.  And this is when I knew that my advice might be helpful. Let's start with some simple areas for this first post.

1. Always get the points.  Always.  
2. You should choose a hotel chain and few airlines to fly.  
3. Earn cheaply and burn expensively.

Let's start with the first one.  Everywhere you stay or airline you fly will have a rewards program.  Take the points.  Most of the airlines you will fly are part of an alliance, meaning you can earn your preferred miles no matter what carrier you fly.  For example, say you have American miles.  American is part of the OneWorld Alliance.  You find a great flight to Australia on Qantas, who is also part of the OW Alliance.  You can give your American Airlines Advantage number when booking your Qantas ticket, and your miles will automatically be deposited in your AA account.  

Secondly, try and stick to a few chains or airlines.  I understand that every once in awhile, you will find a fare that's way lower than others.  In that case, take the fare, but get the points.  However, a lot of times, you'll find that the flights are generally around the same amount.  In that case, you should book with your preferred airline.  Most people simply take the cheapest flight, even if the other airline is $12 more.  This is the reason that you don't get meals in flight anymore, or that your knees are in the back of the seat in front of you.  Spend the extra few bucks and get the miles, so you can sit in the front of the plane.  

The purpose of getting the miles or points is twofold.  First, to gain elite status, which all airlines and hotels have, and will usually get you upgrades to first as well as free checked bags, hotel suites, free internet and expedited security lanes at airports.  This last one is really a huge perk, especially if you fly out of a busy airport. These miles can only be earned by flying.  The second purpose of getting miles or hotel points is to spend them on flights or rooms.  And to really go all out.  

Never spend miles on a domestic flight.  Please Jesus.  

Unless that flight is for a funeral and is $700, then its okay, but if a flight to Detroit is 50,000 miles in coach and a flight to Amsterdam is 100,000 in first, then make the smart move and save for the great flights.  This is where credit cards come in handy.  We'll cover that later. 

I'm trying this out.  Feel free to leave comments or questions.  Next we'll look at how to find a flight or hotel.  

Sheer Awesomeness

So I want to thank my friend Waka for reminding me about the Curiosity Rover landing tonight/tomorrow morning.  I had heard the Team Lead for the Entry, Descent, and Landing Team on NPR and he had a pretty cool story about how he wasn't a student at all in high school, but became fascinated that the planets moved in the sky from when he would see them in the day versus the night.

So, the mood in the country is pretty down.  The economy still isn't great.  Our "leaders" are squabbling over nonsense instead of fixing things, and we're being talked to like children about issues that effect us as adults.  I'm reminded of the 50's and Sputnik.  The Soviets got to space first, and this was a crushing blow to us, and people wanted answers.  And our funding for math and sciences ballooned, from an act of Congress.

And tonight or early tomorrow morning, depending on where you live in the US, one of the most impressive pieces of science and engineering are going to happen thousands of miles away.  Watch this video and I dare you not to get goosebumps.

They're using a freaking crane, people.  So I'll admit that I'm not a huge space junkie.  But I do love the balls on these NASA guys for their audacity.  I understand that money could have gone to school lunches or to bridges, which are important things.  But watching our best and brightest come up with incredibly complex solutions to near impossible problems is also a good use of money.  If I watch the news, I'm embarrased of our country.  But late tonight, around 1:30AM, watching my laptop, regardless of what happens, I'm going to be very, very proud.   

Open Condom Style

Not sure how 11,000,000 people have seen this and I never heard of it before.

It's Friday in my country.  And you should watch this video.  Dare you not to get pumped for the weekend.

New York Must-Sees

I wrote a list for a friend of mine who will be leaving New York soon of places they should see before they go.  This is more a list for people who hate NYC or are down on all the pretension and the bullshit and the rat race.  I acknowledge that I haven't lived there in 8 years, but that's alright because I'm not thinking any of the places that sprang up in the last 8 years are places you need to see anyway.


This is not a "Hot" list of in places.  This is a list I made of things that make me miss New York.  And my New York, the actual fabric of the city, that was there before I was born and will be there hopefully when I'm gone. They're in no particular order except the last one, which is my favorite.  The ones that are not in Manhattan I'll just say that transit or wheels is required. 

Eisenberg's: Eisenberg's is a lunch counter located on 5th Avenue between 23rd and 22nd, opposite the Flat Iron.  It is one of the few lunch counter places that used to be everywhere which provided NYC office denizens a chance to grab a stool and a quick lunch.  Your usual NYC favorites are amazing.  But I'll recommend the pastrami or tuna melt.  And if they have the matzoh ball soup, and you like it, then you should get it.  Matzoh ball as big as your head.  And it goes without saying, but only losers sit at tables, the counter is really where its at.  

Ziegfield Theater: Long before IMAX and fake IMAX and "squint your face with stupid glasses on" IMAX, there were movie houses.  And these theaters had one screen.  This was before owners decided to chop their one screen into 8 closet sized screens to maximize revenue.  The Ziegfield never changed.  It remains the largest screen in the city.  And as a fan of movies, if you haven't been there, you owe it to yourself to see NYC in the way it used to be.  Before even my old ass.  Currently Playing: Dark Knight Rises

Staten Island Ferry:  I'm sure you've probably done this, but it remains a great tour of the harbor and view of southern Manhattan for free.  Go over and come back, or sample some of St. George's culinary delights.  But its' a free boat operated by the City of New York, and that's pretty cool.  

Brennan and Carr's: Let me tell you how I found out about this place.  When I was in the Police Academy with Mahoney and Hightower, a guy named Frank Kolanovic (AKA Franky Yo-Yo, Frankie Beans) asked if I liked roast beef.  That question was followed by asking if I'd "ever had roast beef so good I creamed my pants?" I had to respectfully say I hadn't.  And then he took me here.  It's in the ass end of Brooklyn, near Marine Park.  But it's been there for years.  You gotta get the roast beef and the cheese fries.  The bun its on is soggy from the roast beef.  But more importantly it's Brooklyn, and not your kale eating, brown flip-fop wearing Brooklyn.  Speaking of Brookyn...

Coney Island:  Yeah, I know its cheesy and the amusement park feels like a training ground for grifters and pedophiles.  But Coney Island, is another example of NYC in its original weirdness, and not fake weird, or safe weird.  Home of the Mermaid Parade and the July 4th Nathan's Hot Dog Eating Contest, where NYers show up with sign saying "Tojo go home!" in awesome racist reference to the Japanese competitive eating giant, Kobayashi.  While here, ride the Cyclone.  Not because the coaster is amazing for a wooden roller coaster, but because its old.  And as you look at the Russian immigrants operating it and seeing the bolts rattling as you're climbing the first hill, you become scared.  As in, you could actually die.  A rite of passage for kids in the city.  And while we're still in Brooklyn...

L&B Spumoni Gardens: This is a place that's a tradition near Bensonhurst.  You've never seen so many actual Goombahs outside eating pizza.  The pizza comes in trays and it's like grandma pizza, which is pretty good if you've never tried it.  It's off the 86th St. stop on the N.  Real family place.  Great on a night that isn't blazing hot and you just want to be reminded that you're in NYC.  No kale chips sold here.  

McSorley's Ale House:  While they only began admitting women in the last 40 years, this is the oldest bar in the city. Sawdust on the floor and only two types of beer.  Light and dark.  They come in small glass half-pint mugs and you can either order light or dark and get two mugs each, or half and half.  Again, this place is special.  They have no food, and if you don't like beer, then you probably won't stay long, but it's worth the visit.  Careful, douchebags like this place sometimes.  Here's their location.

NYC Formal Gardens: Not sure if you like Central Park, but I grew up with it being my backyard.  But it wasn't until my parents showed me this gem near our apartment that I found it.  You'll have to fight the crowds of brides and grooms getting their photos taken on the weekends, but this is a really nice and quiet place to go and read or just see some really cool flowers in Central Park.  

And finally, if you do nothing else on this list, you must, must, no but seriously, must visit....

Empire State Building: Alright, this is the only really touristy thing on the menu.  But, there are qualifiers.  You need to go at night . No one cares about being able to see New Jersey.  Also, you need to go to the open observatory on the 80 something floor and not the higher one which is lame.  When I was living in NYC, I would go to the ESB every year.  At night, outside with the city unfolding in front of me, it felt like I owned that city.  It made me fall in love with it every time. Also, if you bring the Icelander, it's pretty romantic.  But more than that it is awesome, in the way that it is full of and inspiring awe.  

I realize that some of these are food related, and you might not hit all of them, but they're all things that remind me of why I love NYC.  Oh, and if you've never had a falafel at Mamoun's on McDougal. stop reading this right now and go get one.  

The King Lives

Ladies and Gentlemen,

The King is alive!  I successfully rappelled down the side of a hotel and thankfully my friend Elizabeth was on hand to take some video.  Thanks to everyone for their support of the Special Olympics and me.  The only part I wish I had on video was after the jump when a woman walked up to me and asked if I was an Olympian.  I could understand her thinking that.

This video is of the interview I gave after my training jump.  (They make you rappel about 30 feet to get the hang of it)

Tomorrow, Elvis Leaves the Building.

This is the Crystal City Hilton.  At 1PM EST tomorrow, I will rappel down the side of it.  Thanks to the generosity of my friends and family, and I really am so grateful, I raised over $1500 for the Special Olympics of Virginia.  And I ordered a special outfit just for the occasion. You can see it below.  I do this for you, my people.

I like to think that I'm going for the "Elvis right before death" with the pill popping and the heavy sweating.  Not so much the Aloha Elvis with the pelvis.  I want to note two things.  First, the jumpsuit is open to the navel.  Not my choice.  Second, I'm not sure if they'll let me take the scarf when I rappel.

Anyway, if you haven't donated and you feel bad because you too want to be a part of this very special occasion, you can still give by clicking on the banner to the left.  I went to the hotel tonight to pickup my shirt and goody bag before the event.  Though with the temp set to reach 100 degrees tomorrow, I'm probably not wearing anything under the jumpsuit.

I got to hear a girl who is a Special Olympian talk today about what it meant to compete.  And while I originally signed up for this because it gave me the opportunity to rappel down a hotel, it was really nice to see how important this money is for them. She had us stand and recite the SO oath.

Let me win, but if I do not win, let me be brave in the attempt.

So I'll post tomorrow, and have photos of my descent.  My friend suggested some Elvis songs for the descent. Like Heartbreak Hotel, or perhaps Can't Help Fallin' In Love.  

Ain't no Party like a 28 Party....

Apologies for not blogging about this sooner.  I've been alternating heat and cold on my back for the past few days. On Thursday, June 10th, we held a 10-13 party for Natalie.  10-13 refers to the NYPD radio code for Officer Needs Assistance.  It's the most serious thing you can say over the radio, and in the macho culture of the Job usually never gets uttered.  Cops prefer to call a 10-85, or "an 85" which is supposed to be used for non-emergency requests.  And even then, most cops will call an "85 non-emergency) which means you're fighting but don't want to make a big deal out of it.  It's especially impressive when you're putting that out over the air and all you hear is screaming in the background.  A cop named Botta once told me when calling for help to "try and keep the bitch out of my voice" when I key the radio.  Sage words.  Thanks Tony.

However, 10-13 is also used to refer to parties and rackets where you raise money for a cop or a cop's family who are usually dealing with catastrophic medical bills.  This is the case for my friend George, who is taking care of his three sons without his wife.  So, I grabbed the Amtrak up to NYC in the morning, my partner Will picked me up.  He always picks me up, no matter where I come in. I'm not going to talk to much about it, because I'll jinx it.  But God bless that man.

We drove to the 28 up in Harlem.  And let me tell you, a lot has changed since I left there 8 years ago.  And when I say a lot, I mean white people.  Everywhere.  There's a new SPG hotel across from the precinct, which took the place of the slowest supermarket to ever make a sandwich and the only ghetto chinese place we would eat at.  Oh, and there's a gym for kids in a new building next to the precinct, literally a place for toddlers to work out.  Harlem is not Harlem any more, Toto.  I missed the old Harlem.

We then went up to Mount St. Michael's Academy which is a prestigious Catholic school in the Bronx.  Really nice.  Prior to that day, my only knowledge of that place was from my friend in college who went there, Pedro.  Back in the infancy of the internet, I went to the school's homepage and they allowed alumni to write in with updates.  So I wrote in as Pedro that I was married and studying chemical engineering and had a kid and life was good.  (None of this was true) His mother got the alumni magazine and had a heart attack and called him screaming.  Good times.

Anyway, there was a DJ (former 28 guy). 60 cases of beer. 50 cases of soda and water.  Enough trays of mac and cheese and chicken parm and baked ziti, that you could walk to Queens without touching water.  Banners and tables and chairs.  And it was all donated.  The local precinct sent guys to watch the cars parked out front.  It was a day that made me proud to be a cop.

Saw tons of people from the 28 and it was like a great family reunion.  The midnight lieutenant that no one likes was there, which earned him I'm sure a very begrudging respect.  My old XO (Executive Officer) was there.  He now works for a bank recovering ATM cards that people leave in the machine.  (Just kidding Kev.)  He's a bigwig, and it's awesome to call him Kev and he can't do anything about it.

George walked in and gave me a huge hug with tears in his eyes and thanked me profusely for everything.  Puh-leeze.  Seeing him smile while talking to guy's was the only thing I really wanted.  Besides, does he know how easy this is?  I got on a train to support a friend.  I stayed with Will and managed not to offend his wife by leaving my boxers in the kitchen like last time.  This is easy.  If being there brings him a shred of comfort, I'll never leave.

We're family George.  For better or worse.  I love you like a brother and Nat like a sister.  You need anything.  You want to take the kids to DC for a long weekend to get them out of the city, you call me, I hook it up.  I'll even pay for all the museums.  You can have my 1-bedroom and I'll crash with friends.  What's mine is yours.  Currently, that's a lot of Ikea furniture and beer, but I think you'll be fine.

Give because it's Tuesday!

So there are only a little over 1800 free Kiva loans left.

Click here and loan $25 to someone who needs it a lot more than you.  Well, I suppose you could use the $25, but you're probably not going to spend it on anything good for you.  Seriously, what can you buy with $25?  Fruit?  Well, okay that's pretty good for you.  But asides from fruit, you can probably only spend $25 on 2.4 minutes of mediocrity inside your car at the Hunts Point Market with "Sparkyles" (If she asks if you want it with hot sauce, I cannot explain how important it is that you say NO, in no uncertain terms)

So help someone on a Tuesday build a boat, or buy a cow.  And that cow doesn't require you to take a course of anti-biotics or apply topical creams anywhere.  Win win.

The Disease of Statistics: Part 3

Apologies for it almost taking a month to finish my three-part series.  In the first two parts, we talked about how statistics and the brass have changed the job, making it less fun to do and more prone to arm-twisting and cop hating.  However all of these things, while terrible aren't going to actually hurt any cops.  Ironically, the biggest danger is other cops.

So there is a program called Operation Impact.  I first heard of it when white people started moving to Hamilton Heights.  This is a neighborhood that is between Morningside Heights to the south and Washington Heights.  This area was called Harlem, before the real estate brokers got ahold of it.  Anyway, they put cops on foot posts on every block to make sure white people didn't get hit over the head and get their shit taken.  Pretty simple work.  Actually, the drug dealers up there kept felony weight on them, so they were quite nice and responsive when asked to move along.

Impact proved successful and soon they had rookies from precincts all over the city doing Impact tours at crime hotspots in the city.  This started as a once or twice a week and then expanded.  Currently, rookies can get assigned directly to Impact from the Academy where they are assigned to a footpost.  They aren't allowed to handle radio runs, which is job parlance for the calls that come in from 911.  Handling jobs is how you learn to be a police officer.  Working in a radio car with another officer is how you grow as a cop.  And these officers are learning nothing about that.  They are simply ticket writing machines who are a police presence.  Much like the police car with the dummy at the bottom of the hill to dissuade speeders.

And these officers, who don't work out of a precinct and don't have the benefit of senior officers who treat them like crap but watch out for them and tell them when they're doing things wrong or right, they take promotional tests.  And they become Sergeants.  And as Sergeants, they don't have any idea of what they're doing.  They don't have the confidence or the backbone to make tough calls on the street, leaving the officer to hang in the wind.

Recently, I heard a story from a detective who I knew as a cop who said he showed up at the scene of an officer involved shooting.  The shooting was "good" meaning the cop was justified.  And a supervisor showed up to the scene and noticed that the officer was wearing exposed handcuffs and a nylon belt instead of the fake leather one.  The nylon belt is much lighter and more comfortable, but not approved by the Equipment Section probably because it isn't completely flammable like their other wares.  They gave the officer a 10-day hit, which is to say he loses 10 vacation days.  5 for the cuffs and 5 for the belt.  Allow me to remind you that this guy who now has less vacation shot and killed a man about 30 minutes before this jackass decided to discipline him.

This is my fear for the job.  That a rookie boss with no concept of police work, orders his or her cops to do something dangerous, like not waiting for other officers.  Or, worse, is cowardly and leads from behind in critical situations.  This issue though is not on the radar of the NYPD.  To the city, low morale isn't a problem, but higher crime is.  However, lower morale results in poor interactions with the public.  Also you get cops willing to lock up citizens for things like videotaping them or other legal actions.

There are days I miss the job terribly.  But then I remember that I kept the best parts, the people and the stories, and the City of New York can keep the rest which is not worth keeping.

The Disease of Statistics: Part 2

So we left off talking about how CompStat humiliated Captains and made grown men terrified of statistics for the first time since 10th grade.  But to show you that Compstat isn't all bad, observe this graph.

So, as you can see from the graph, 1990 was not a good year for the City of New York.  The spike has been attributed to many factors, but the main one is drugs, specifically crack.  Berkley researchers gave this explanation for why crack became such a violent drug.


Evidently, crack cocaine use and distribution became popular in cities that were in social and economic chaos such as Los Angeles and Atlanta. 'As a result of the low-skill levels and minimal initial resource outlay required to sell crack, systemic violence flourished as a growing army of young, enthusiastic inner-city crack sellers attempt to defend their economic investment.' (Inciardi, 1994) Once the drug became embedded in the particular communities, the economic environment that was best suited for its survival caused further social disintegration within that city. An environment that was based on violence and deceit as an avenue for the crack dealers to protect their economic interests


2,245 murders.  That's a lot.  It's more than some natural disasters.  I remember being in high school and the Daily News running a Gun Clock on one of the pages, counting all of the people killed by handguns.  So CompStat certainly had something to do with the sharp decline.  But there are other theories Steven Levitt, author of Freakonomics, said that though over 50% of Americans believe that innovative policing strategies had something to do with it, it really didn't.  He listed 4 alternate reasons, being more police officers, larger prison population, the wane of the crack epidemic, and finally Roe V. Wade.  That last one landed him in hot water.  You can read the report here.  


Regardless, crime plummeted, making a terrible mayor for New York*, a golden hero for busloads of tourists from Kansas.   And here we are in 2011 with 515 murders.  In a city of 8.5 million people.  Amazing.  In an FBI chart of cities greater than 250,000, looking at murder rates per 100,000 people, New York places between Lexington, Kentucky and Long Beach, California.  Well below other places like Boston, Columbus, Buffalo, and the very dangerous Tulsa.  


So with Compstat, you're always fighting a number.  Let's take a look at this form: 

This was pulled off the web from a GIS.  You can actually go to the NYPD home page and look at the most current stats citywide and precinct-wide.  So this document, or more accurately, the numbers contained within are the gospel.  So as a Lieutenant, you'd be chasing numbers.  In this case, your number is 17.  I've literally have bosses come to roll call on a Friday and say "The number is 18, and right now we're at 14." In English this means that we could record no more than 4 felonies through the weekend to be level with where we were last year.  The reason you focus so much on the week to date is that with that secured, the 28 day will follow. 


So crime in New York City is an an all-time low, and yet there's constant pressure to keep it where it is or make it lower.  In a city of 8.5 million people, crime will happen and will rise and fall in cycles.  Surely, you can use tools to keep it under 2,000 murders a year, but this process eventually feels like squeezing blood out of a stone.  I've personally seen all kinds of chicanery, like bosses waiting to input reports until after midnight on a Monday so they don't count against the week-to-date total.  The worst was the reclassifying of crimes.  I once had a felony arrest I had made and finally got down to court on it to speak to the ADA, and I had to call and ask the precinct to fax down the report.  When the fax came through, the crime had been downgraded to a misdemeanor.  This is not good.  Because with the strike of a pen by a gentleman in a white shirt, my sworn and signed statement to the ADA was garbage.  If this went to trial, which it clearly didn't, (PROTIP: Nothing goes to trial.  Everyone pleads.  Seriously), then I'd be screwed and look like a moron.  

How, you may ask, do you reduce felonies?  Well, asides from murder, it's pretty easy.  Let's say you get burglarized.  And a real burglary, as opposed to the one I had where the guy insisted that someone climbed in his 3rd floor window and stole 2 pairs of pants and that was it, but I digress.  So your stuff gets stolen.  I arrive and ask if you have receipts for the things that were lost to prove their worth?  Oh, you don't have receipts for the jewelry you got as a gift 10 years ago?  Or the laptop?  Then, this really isn't a burglary....it's more of a criminal trespass and a petit robbery.  How convenient that both of those happen to be misdemeanors.  Let me stop here and give the definition of burglary.  To enter a premises unlawfully with the intent to commit a crime therein. You don't even need to steal anything.  If I enter a house and kill you, technically I'm charged with burglary and murder.  But clearly, this definition fits the above case, no matter how much stuff was stolen.  But what do I know.  I'm just a silver shield.  


Perhaps you leave your purse in the Bank of America ATM and 10 seconds later you remember and rush back.  Grand Larceny?  Noooo.  Lost Property.  You can't prove that someone stole it.  You can't prove that your purse didn't become a sentient being and walk out of the ATM lobby.  And let me tell you that if anyone tells you they're filing a lost property report for your stuff, you can kiss that shit goodbye.  I have no idea where those complaint forms go, but I'm guessing some room in the bowels of 1 Police Plaza.  


But let's say that you just can't get the magic number lower and you're over....what happens then?  Well, you need to show that you're doing something.  For example, you're stopping and frisking people for guns.  Funny story about this.  The NYPD started using the UF-250 which is the Stop and Frisk form at the request of various groups to show who they were stopping and why.  So soon the bosses wanted 250 forms to show that the precinct was doing something to fight crime.  This led to tons of people being tossed (cop speak for being frisked) Again, this is a frisk, so I can only look for a gun or something that could hurt me.  No drugs.  No search.  Just a pat down and a waistband check.  This surge in 250 forms eventually led to a lawsuit, go figure.


Cops can also write criminal court summonses or "C" summonses.  These are given out for urinating in public or drinking in public or riding your bike on the sidewalk.  These became popular to for the bosses to show action.  So listen up kids, when you get pissed at the pigs for writing you a ticket for some bullshit like your bicycle didn't have a bell or something, the cop writing you that summons has a lot of things he or she would rather be doing.  Unless of course you're a loud mouthed DYKWIA liberal, then we actually enjoy writing you a lot of tickets.  


That's all for now.  In the third and final part of this series, I will discuss the real danger to the Job, much greater than statistics, is from within.  


* I would be happy to explain in a later post why I think Rudy Giuliani was a terrible mayor and a petulant child for 7.75 years of his mayoralty.

The Disease of Statistics: Part 1

A friend of mine who is still on the Job (That's cop jargon for being an NYPD officer) posted an article from NY Magazine on his Facebook wall.  It was really well written and talked about the malaise that the rank and file of the department are feeling under Commissioner Kelly.  It talks about Compstat, but also goes deeper.
Everyone should click here to read it, if you haven't already.   Here's my take on this whole thing, for what it's worth....

Way back in time, in a NYPD far, far away, there was crime.  Lots of crime.  And you sent out uniforms on patrol to prevent it and respond to it.  And you had detectives try and clean up after it.  But if someone asked the Commanding Officer of a precinct in Brooklyn why the murders were so high, they were apt to get a response like "What can you do?  These freaking people are animals." In short,  crime was sort of like a ride you were on.  This is not to say that specific crimes, like pattern rapes or the Son of Sam for example, weren't handled without care or attention.  But the day to day crimes like burglary or assault were just a fact of life.

Fast Forward to 1994.  Bill Bratton is Police Commissioner, having spent spent time working in Boston and NYC in their transit police departments.  Bratton promoted a lieutenant named Jack Maple from Transit to Deputy Commissioner in charge of Crime Control Strategy.  Why?  Maple, in addition to being a hell of a character, loved maps.  He used them to pinpoint crimes and then moved resources based on what the patterns and maps showed him.  And thus COMPSTAT was born.  While the idea of tracking crimes by location wasn't new, there were some things that put the department on its ear.

First, the data from all crimes were fed into this centralized database and then plotted on a map.  The program allowed them to break down every possible parameter, like robberies of women over 65 between the hours of 2PM and 5PM in a particular neighborhood.  So Maple and his team would crunch these stats and then, here's the new part, call the precinct C.O.s up to explain why this crime was going on.  In front of their peers.  Literally, these guys were on the hot seat.  And it gets worse for them, because Maple who ran the sessions at first, had an earpiece that fed him answers to the questions he wanted to know.  So picture this:

You're in a room with giant screens showing your crime statistics, standing at a podium in front of the department's command staff and your colleagues and you have about 500 pages of reports and stats and anything you think they might want to know.  Maple asks "Captain, can you tell me how many criminal court summonses your precinct has written in the past month?  You start shuffling through pages and pages looking for that info.  Maple, who has the answer in his ear, "158. And can you tell me how many have been written on 118th street where the robbery pattern is?" More shuffling and sweating by you, the C.O. Maple, omniscient as ever, "1.  Captain. don't you think that we stand of better catching your suspects if we start stopping criminals in the area?" And so on and so on.

Not surprisingly, this led a lot of senior leadership to retire, as they didn't want to look stupid or be held to a standard they felt they couldn't meet.  The brass at CompStat would give you anything you wanted to fix your problems.  You could get horses, extra patrol officers, helicopters, really sky's the limit.  But in one month, God help you if your numbers haven't come down.  You could and probably would lose your command.  And in case it's not clear, losing your command is pretty much a career death sentence in the NYPD.

There's a dirty secret about Compstat.  The system only cares about the "7 Majors" which are the seven major crimes that are tracked and reported by the FBI.  And they are:

• Murder
• Rape
• Robbery
• Felony Assault
• Grand Larceny
• Grand Larceny Auto
• Burglary

So basically, if you commit another crime it doesn't make the list.  Funny Story Time:  Working in Harlem, a guy walked up to another guy at Popeye's on 125th St. and St. Nicholas Ave, and said "Die, Motherfucker, Die" and fired a handgun multiple times.  This being a Harlem shooting, none of the rounds struck the intended victim, instead ending up through windows and the front of the restaurant.  Patrol cops pull up, conduct an initial investigation, and determine that this was an attempted murder.  Commanding Officer arrives and says that its Reckless Endangerment, which is a silent felony.  True story.  

In the next segment I'll talk about how this laser-like focus on crimes and other things has made the Job a shell of its former self and turned officers into lackeys.  

_________________________________________________________________________________

In other news, I did make it to Natalie's funeral and got to hug George before he left for the burial.  Incredibly sad, but I was very glad to have made it and seen so many old friends, and a few retards. The redeye and the bus back late that night made for a looong travel day, but it was totally worth it.  

Fare Well Natalie Couluris

Dear Readers,
The beautiful woman in the middle of the photo to the right is Natalie Ramratan. I stole this from her Facebook page, but I don't think she'd mind.  Natalie worked with me in the 28 Precinct when I worked for the NYPD, what seems like lifetimes ago.  When I first met her, I was totally scared of her.  We were brand new and bumping into everyone and saluting statues and running to calls on foot, and no one really liked us.  I came to find out later, that out of the two field training squads, I was placed in the Special Ed one.  But that's another story. 

Natalie could cut you down with a verbal tongue lashing or a look like no one's business.  I learned that when I made the mistake of wearing a Mount Gay rum t-shirt when we went out drinking one of the first nights.  This was a mistake.  You should understand that the subtle and intellectual humor of the NYPD does not shy from the hilarity of calling me gay.   

Later I realized why Nat was so hard on us, acting like we were idiots.  It's because we were idiots.  If I ever write this book that I haven't started and is only in my head, I will point out that while the Academy does teach you many things, it can't prepare you for working on the street or inside the precinct house.  And in reality, there was so much we didn't know and they would grudgingly teach us. 
After I proved myself, I got to be treated to the real Natalie.  Quick with a smile and a laugh, always ready to lend a hand when you really needed it and still quite able to dispense the word "dumbass" when it was appropriate. 

Then she met George. George was a quiet guy who was, and is one of the nicest, gentlest men I know.  He had this super dry humor, which combined with him not talking that much, made him hysterical.  Guys used to go to Tom's Diner for food at times.  This, for those who watch  TV, is the diner they used in Seinfeld for the exterior shots.  Anyway, it was run by Greeks, and when George was there waiting for his order, he heard the waitress say something about "these fucking cops" to the cooks.  George leaned over and said in Greek, "You should be careful what you say, because you never know who can hear it." She turned white, and the owner was apoplectic.  George never taught me more than a few curse words, which honestly is all a cop really needs. 

Natalie caught pneumonia and a kidney infection in early March and was transferred from a hospital near their home to Mt. Sinai in Manhattan.  I was just going to offer up my parent's place for him to shower or change.  (I didn't ask, but I'm sure my parents would have understood) Last night, Natalie passed away in the ICU, surrounded by her family, and then mourned by her larger family of officers.  While I am not a huge Facebook fan, it's been really special to see all of these people that I worked with, sharing their grief together. 

I haven't spoken to Natalie in over two years, since the last 28 Reunion night.  I think what makes this such a hard loss is that working with her on the 3rd Platoon (So called because it's the 3rd shift of the day, with the first being the midnights) was some of of my fondest memories on the job.  Working with my partner and some great officers and a terrific boss, it made it fun to come to work.  I miss that time.  I miss Natalie.  I am flying to LA for work this week, but I'm waiting to hear about the funeral.  I will try my hardest to go.  And if I can go, I'll be in a suit, hopefully in formation with my brothers and sisters from the 28. 

I'm not sure if there's a heaven.  And I'm not going to say that it was her time to go, because that's a lie.  But I will say that I'll never forget her.  And she is an important piece of one of the most amazing puzzles I've ever encountered in my whole life.  I love you Natalie.  I love you George and your three beautiful kids.  Many of the people in this photo would do anything for you, myself included.  Just say the word. Fare well Natalie. 

So awesome

So as I type this, I am $60 away from my goal of $1,000.  If I can be honest, I knew I'd make my goal, mostly because I have awesome friends and family.  More impressive than me raising the money, are the kind of people who gave.  To summarize:

• Parents: No doubt that they would give, but I liked the message that my Mom offered to give me $1,000 if I didn't do it. 
• My girlfriend, Allyson, and her parents gave me money which was super generous.   
• Brother: He would love to see me stuck in the air, so this makes sense.  
• High School Buddies: Two of of my oldest friends each gave money which was pretty nice.  Jason, a friend who I haven't seen in years, also gave money
• College friends: A great guy who certainly isn't rolling in it, gave me cash-ola.  Along with the best baker psychologist in the world.
• Theater friends: An old friend who I studied theater with 18 years ago, and we've remained close ever since
• Vassar Grad: I met this woman when doing an admissions fair and was reminded of how awesome Vassar was and is, as she represents all that's awesome about people.  Cait is running for charity in the Boston Marathon, which makes her a true athlete.  Give her money too!
• Old work colleagues: My friend Mary from Public Health gave a large sum, which means I owe her a beer.  And my everlasting thanks. 
• 2 people from a website for frequent fliers that I'm on gave me money.  Which is totally unexpected, but we did spend time together at the Kiva Do in San Francisco and bonded there.  
• Firefighter buddies: My friend Eric, who I worked as a firefighter with in college gave me money.  He and his wife, Kelly, and his freakishly tall son are good people.  
• An anonymous donor who is an awesome person and will be there in spirit as I drink the first cold one after my feat of useless bravery.

All told it amounts to an incredible collection of people from many different circles. I'm incredibly lucky to have lived a life that brought me into contact with all of these people.  I think sometimes if I could go back and do things differently, I might, but then I think about all of these people I would never have met.  So overall, this life, with plenty of bumps in the road, is the only road I want to be on.  

Like Juno Beach, but Down

Friends and 8 readers,

Thanks to my friend Elizabeth, I recently found out about a charity event held by the Special Olympics of Virginia in early summer. 

This is the Crystal City Hilton in Arlington, Virginia. (Ironically located right near my old office)

I am planning on rapelling down the side of this very hotel on June 22nd and I'm trying to raise $1,000 to do it.  My Mom offered me a grand not to.  But that seemed to take the fun out of it.  So why rappel? 

I decided why not?  This activity combines charity with hotels and doing something insane.  I figure I can run a 5K or do a Polar Plunge anytime.  But how often do you get to climb down the side of a hotel and not get arrested.  You'll notice the widget (actual term) on the left of the page that chronicles my race to $1K.  If I get more, I can earn a night at the hotel or a dinner.  But if I get $2,000, I get another rapelling spot.  So someone can join me if I get enough.  So cough up a few dimes. I might spring for a costume....

If you want to give money, click here.

If you want to sign up and feel your manhood or lady parts crushed by a rigging harness, click here.