A Scaiaholic recently asked what I think of the protests that have been ongoing across the country. I haven’t blogged about the case in Minneapolis because George Floyd’s death and the response are not funny. I understand both sides. The police force protects us; you might have police officers as neighbors. Protesters are upset because they feel they’ve been fighting the same fight for years, and it only gets attention after a case like this.

I take my job seriously.

I do not, however, take this blog seriously. Loyal Scaiaholics will recall how the blog can fall into disarray when I’m busy at my precious job, and I am working on that.

Reporters interact with police, firefighters and paramedics quite a bit.

Just today, I was at Echo Lake in Fort Worth where a gentleman had driven his car into the lake. As you can see, it was completely by accident.

The public information officer for the fire department explained they had dive teams in the lake searching for the car, but they didn’t expect to find anyone inside. Witnesses said the guy driving it jumped out and wandered off.

While we waited for confirmation, though, we discussed our strategies to prevent the tops of our heads from getting sunburn.

Back in Oregon was the only time I went on a ride-along with police. I learned a substantial amount of their day is not bustin’ punks but, rather, doing paperwork about the punk-bustin’.

The officer was called to a domestic disturbance. He talked to the people involved and moved on. I do not recall the outcome of that call, but I do remember sitting in his car while he filled out a rather lengthy account of what happened. He also parked in a place that was widely known as a speed trap. He wasn’t paying any attention to the radar gun. He just explained he needed a place to type, and people always slow down when they see police, so it would make that stretch of road safer.

That’s when I learned police have to deal with the same bureaucratic mess we all do at work. They’re no happier about showing up at your house than you are.

When I worked in Houston, I was driving down I-45 and was stopped for speeding. The officer walked up to the car and asked if I was in a hurry to cover a big story.

“No,” I explained. “It’s the end of my workday. I’m in a hurry to get home.”

We had a good laugh, and she sent me on my way.

Back in 2013, I had a memorable enough encounter with a DPS trooper that I took a picture of the warning he gave me. I was covering a story in Montague County.

A state trooper stopped me and said he had no intention of giving me a ticket for going 80 in a 75 mile an hour zone. He just thought it was worth running my license because most people, when they see police driving toward them, slow down.

This led to a discussion with the trooper, who probably regretted stopping me because he had other work to do, about whether you’re supposed to slow down.

My understanding had been if you slam on the brakes, that makes you more suspicious and puts you at greater risk for getting rear ended.

“So maybe just let off the gas next time,” he explained.

There’s no secret way to interact with police to trick them into letting you off with a warning. They know when you’re fake-flirting with them, and they don’t respond well to people who try to manipulate them.

Meanwhile, protesters may not feel the need to protest if they feel like they’re being heard, and they see we’re not all so different.

Perhaps the take-away is reporters see both sides of an issue. There are bad police officers and violent looters who try to disguise their crime as protesting. But most police officers and most protesters just want the best for everyone and for people to talk to them like real people, not some enemy. Protesters and police officers are both mammals, after all.

We’re all mammals.