I love small town police blotters. So much that I mentioned a few of them in my book. Last weekend I visited Ojai: a small town of most excellent police blotter material, and from where most of my location is set in my book. I totally wish I had brought home the newspaper to share some of the hilarious mishaps reported to the police.
The only one I can remember enough to relate is the one that reported unruly 69yr old women causing a public disturbance. I remember this one most because I believed, beyond reasonable doubt, with assuredness, and without hesitation that it was my mother.
I read her the blotter in question (no question, actually). “—Sounds like me,” she blurted before I even finished the article. “I know,” I say, “was it?” “Could be,” she answers.
After a few intense moments of interrogation it was determined the unnamed suspect was indeed not her (I think it’s important to name all blotter suspects to avoid confusion). We had to match the date and time to where she was that day and lo and behold, she had an alibi. Plus, she couldn’t remember any recent citations. All this had me scratching my head: you mean there is another 69 yr old woman in Ojai as feisty as my mother? This can’t be right, can’t be true, but it is. I have questions for this woman (and a possible book deal). But I’m getting off focus here. My focus is blotters and how I miss them living in a high crime city.
Not too long ago, I was driving about a block from my house and found I was completely surrounded by police cars and swat teams. They were arriving from every direction to the Walgreens parking lot. Like every other car on the road, we wanted to both stay and watch and to get out of the line of crossfire. I chose the latter. But leaving left me wondering: what happened? Was it on the news? NO! Was it in the newspaper? NO! And not the next day either, or the day after that. It simply wasn’t big enough to mention.
I woke up today mad I forgot the paper when I left Ojai on Monday. But agent Chip MacGregor must have sensed my despair and provided a link on his site today. From that link I saw a related link that I will share, 11 great Moments in Police Blotter History.
Now you see why I love small town police blotters. This person really needs to order The Ojai Valley News for additional blotter material. There was even a famous chicken that was always getting arrested back in the ’70s. Readers worried when they didn’t read about the defiant chicken. (Which also would be in the blotter: “Fox Street resident called in to report that no chicken has trespassed this week.”)
Caution: Just like cute You Tube kitten videos, you could spend a great deal of time on this person’s 11 most lists. Don’t miss the police blotter-animal edition, though. See what I mean? I can’t stop. Worse—I am admitting this here and I don’t know why—is I signed up for email notifications of all new 11 most lists.
In other news: I found this tidbit in Sunday’s paper. “Legally blind and unable to use his hands, Josh LaRue of New Concord, Ohio, wrote a book by tapping out the words in Morse code using his tongue.”
Okay, so that article made me feel like a doof. My back hurts, I’m sleepy, I’m hungry No more! I shant ever complain about the minor obstacles that impede upon my writing. I shall cut out the article and tape it above my computer as a reminder of my good writing health. I am so ashamed of myself.
Lastly, I would like to post on a schedule. Stop laughing. Really. As crabbyoldfart would say, “It’s important to be regular.” Now I have to take baby steps, so this will be a once a week venture. But I want you all to tell me what day. I know you don’t care what day so humor me—obviously, I need direction. The day that’s mentioned the most will be my new regular posting day. Yay!
Last of the lastly: Guide to Literary Agents is having a Dear Lucky Agent contest. January is memoir and narrative non-fiction (and femoir. Anyone know what femoir is?)