"Policemen are just human beings"
Policemen, believe it or not, ARE human. They come in both sexes,
but mostly male. They also come in various sizes. This sometimes depends
on whether you are looking for one or trying to hide something. However,
they are mostly big.
Policemen are found everywhere, on land, on sea, in the air, on
horses, and sometimes in your hair. In spite of the fact that you can't
find one when you want one, they are usually there when it counts most! The
best way to get one is to pick up the nearest phone.
Policemen deliver lectures, babies, and bad news. They are required
to have the wisdom of Solomon, the disposition of a lamb and muscles of
steel, and are often accused of having a heart to match. He is the one who
rings the doorbell, swallows hard and announces the passing of a loved one,
then spends the rest of the day wondering why he took such a crummy job.
Policemen on television are oafs who couldn't find a bull fiddle
inside a
telephone booth. In real life he is expected to find a little blond
boy,
"about so high" in a crowd of a half million people.
In fiction he
gets
help from his private eyes, reporters, and "who-dun-it" fans.
In
real life
mostly all he gets from the public is "I didn't see nuttin." When
he serves
a summons, he is a monster; If he lets you go he is a "Doll." To
little kids
he is either a friend or a boogey-man, depending on how the parents
feel
about it.
Policemen work around the clock, split shifts, Sundays, and
holidays, and it always kills him when a joker says "Hey tomorrow is
Election Day, I'm off
let's go fishing." (That is the day he works 20 hours).
When a policeman is good he is a grafter, and that goes for the rest
of them too. When he shoots a stick-up man he is a hero, except when the
stick-up man in only a kid "anybody coulda seen that."
Policemen have homes, some of them are covered with ivy, but most of
them mortgages. If he drives a big car he's a chissler, a little car ---
who is he kidding.
His credit is good - that is very helpful, because his salary isn't.
Policemen raise a lot of kids, mostly they belong to other people.
Policemen see more misery, bloodshed, trouble, and sunrises than the
average person. Like the postman, policemen must be out in all kinds of
weather. His uniform changes with the climate, but his outlook on life
remains the same, mostly a blank, but always hoping for a better world.
Policemen like days off, vacations and coffee. They don't like auto
horns,
family fights and anonymous letter writers. They have an
Association, but
they do not strike. They must be impartial, courteous, and always
remember the slogan "at your service." This is sometimes hard, especially
when some character reminds him "I'm a taxpayer, I pay your salary."
Policemen get medals for saving lives, stopping runaway horses and
shooting it out with bandits (once in a while his widow gets the medal.) But
sometimes the most rewarding moment comes when after some small
kindness to a person, he feels the warm handclasp, looks into grateful eyes
and hears
Thank you
Policemen are found everywhere, on land, on sea, in the air, on horses, and sometimes in your hair. In spite of the fact that you can't find one when you want one, they are usually there when it counts most! The best way to get one is to pick up the nearest phone.
Policemen deliver lectures, babies, and bad news. They are required to have the wisdom of Solomon, the disposition of a lamb and muscles of steel, and are often accused of having a heart to match. He is the one who rings the doorbell, swallows hard and announces the passing of a loved one, then spends the rest of the day wondering why he took such a crummy job.
Policemen on television are oafs who couldn't find a bull fiddle inside a telephone booth. In real life he is expected to find a little blond boy, "about so high" in a crowd of a half million people.
In fiction he gets help from his private eyes, reporters, and "who-dun-it" fans.
In real life mostly all he gets from the public is "I didn't see nuttin." When he serves a summons, he is a monster; If he lets you go he is a "Doll." To little kids he is either a friend or a boogey-man, depending on how the parents feel about it.
Policemen work around the clock, split shifts, Sundays, and holidays, and it always kills him when a joker says "Hey tomorrow is Election Day, I'm off let's go fishing." (That is the day he works 20 hours).
When a policeman is good he is a grafter, and that goes for the rest of them too. When he shoots a stick-up man he is a hero, except when the stick-up man in only a kid "anybody coulda seen that."
Policemen have homes, some of them are covered with ivy, but most of them mortgages. If he drives a big car he's a chissler, a little car --- who is he kidding.
His credit is good - that is very helpful, because his salary isn't.
Policemen raise a lot of kids, mostly they belong to other people.
Policemen see more misery, bloodshed, trouble, and sunrises than the average person. Like the postman, policemen must be out in all kinds of weather. His uniform changes with the climate, but his outlook on life remains the same, mostly a blank, but always hoping for a better world.
Policemen like days off, vacations and coffee. They don't like auto horns, family fights and anonymous letter writers. They have an Association, but they do not strike. They must be impartial, courteous, and always remember the slogan "at your service." This is sometimes hard, especially when some character reminds him "I'm a taxpayer, I pay your salary."
Policemen get medals for saving lives, stopping runaway horses and shooting it out with bandits (once in a while his widow gets the medal.) But sometimes the most rewarding moment comes when after some small kindness to a person, he feels the warm handclasp, looks into grateful eyes and hears
Thank you
author unknown
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