"P.O.W. " Comes Home; Criminals Rule

I’m back. Perhaps no one even noticed I was gone, but alas I was no where to be found at least in this blogosphere. The truth be told - and this might come as a shock to most of you (or the one or two faithful readers whom I’ve let down. Hi Mom.) - but I was a POW. Fear not, though. I’m OK. A bit tired, tattered and torn but I’m a survivor. I’ll tell you, it just ain’t easy being a Prisoner of Work.

Recent weeks have been crazed. Criminals in the west central Florida county I cover have been running me ragged as they run amok. We’ve had more than our typical public flashers, “rock” stars and bicycle-riding bank robbers so far this year. These first few months of 2007 have been especially full of serious crime and public safety news. Here’s an example of the busiest day to date:

Before the crack of dawn some local yahoos in this particular well-known area - where most homes can be driven, where witches are said to roam, where inbreeding isn’t just acceptable it’s the residents’ God-given right and where, I’m certain, the KKK has rallied a time or two - got in an argument and someone ended up shot. And dead. Around the same time, local sheriff’s officials finally learned the identity of the dead guy, I got a tip the major in charge of the county jails had resigned. So, as I’m juggling two relatively big breaking news stories when there’s a stabbing in the south of the county, followed by a SWAT team raid on a motel for the Signal 5 (homicide) in cops speak, then a father shoots his son before turning the gun on himself and well, I’ll spare you the details of that lil’ mess. Fortunately, for the son, his father either was a poor shot or just wanted to push his son away before he ended his own life.

I’m exhausted just thinking about it all. I didn’t single handedly conquer all of these stories, of course. A couple of my selfless colleagues lent a hand. I kept tabs on it all but you get the point of the pace we were keeping. Long on hours; short on glory. So when I got home each night too tired to move, I plopped on my couch and filled my head with mostly bad TV while drool slid down my chin. It was all I could do. Work sucked the life out of me. No blogging for me.

This is the life of a cops reporter at 36. Too old; zero energy after 6 p.m.

But the first crimes of the year should’ve aptly warned me of what 2007 would be. My favorite crime came (premature pun intended) the first week of January but others are almost as notable.
Here are my favorites so far:

Masturbating burglar. A man was caught, I’ll say RED-handed, trying to break into a mobile (PC way of saying trailer) home. He was smashing a window with one hand and stroking his MANness with the other. You just can’t make this stuff up. I couldn’t write about his act, however, since they tell me I write for a family paper.

Greasy burglar. This pain-killer addict was jonesing for a fix but he was out of fat cash. So he kept breaking into businesses by climbing onto roofs then through exhaust or air conditioning vents. He was finally caught shortly after sliding through a grease pipe at a local wing joint. In his mug shot, he’s covered in grease.

GPS burglar. A man already monitored by authorities with a GPS anklet decide to burglarize a home. Of course, with the GPS technology deputies could pinpoint exactly where he had been.

Who knew burglaries could be so exciting?