Obese Cops

Ok, here comes an entry that will probably put my butt into the fire, but I can guarantee this is a topic that has crossed the minds of MOST of us on this island at one point or another. The topic: Police Fitness.

This topic came to mind while I was driving down Pondfill road and had to stop at the roundabout for a pedestrian. The person crossing the street was a police officer coming from the police station. What really caught my attention was the sheer size of this officer. He was clearly obese. Well over 300lbs. This is not an exaggeration. The 1st thing that popped into my mind was: How could this guy chase down a criminal if need be? The cop is one of many I've seen on the force who are clearly not in top physical form. It also got me wondering about who's in charge of clearing these cops for duty? Is there a requirement? An exam? Do they have to run a 12 minute mile? Do 50 sit ups in under a minute? 50 pull ups in under 2 minutes? Clearly not. Is there a physician that has to sign off on a form to clear officers for active duty?

Not 5 minutes after seeing this cop I caught sight of the new recruits running along the side of the road, their commander shouting at them to keep pace with each other. What a contradiction of terms!

I mentioned the overweight cop to a friend of mine who casually remarked 'Well maybe he sits at a desk.' I thought about that for a minute and realized it doesn't excuse the clearly unhealthy situation. So what if he sits at a desk? Shouldn't he be setting an example? And I have seen plenty of other cops out on the road, doing road controls & whatnot whoa re clearly not in their physical prime. Think about it...A robbery occurs and the suspects are on foot. Who's going to give chase? An obese cop who'll end up having a heart attack after twenty paces? We've all seen examples of this as we pass through countless road controls or even coming out of the airport/customs. And to be fair, it's not just the cops. I've seen fat customs agents, immigration officials and even security guards. You think the overweight security guard standing watch at the bank after hours is going to be able to run down a thief that just stole your money?

Myself and friend witness another overweight cop struggling to make his way up the stairs at an establishment. No more than 2 flights of stairs and the cop was clearly winded at the top. He stood, stooped over, obviously trying to catch his breath. Shameful. It's quite obvious that health & weight issues are running rampant throughout the police force. Men & women alike are grossly overweight and this had a direct effect on their performance. Just because you're not a cop in the field doesn't mean you can be 5 feet 9 inches and weight in excess of 200lbs! It's a liability! Many of the cops are strokes & heart attacks just waiting to happen.


Look, I'm no super model. I'll be the first to admit that. I've had jobs that required a particular level of physical ability. When my physical health began to decline I changed careers, understanding when I was no longer capable of performing to the best of my abilities. Certainly my performance does not have a huge impact on other people's lives. I'm not involved in high stress, physically demanding situations.

Think about it. How safe & secure would you feel if you found yourself in a life & death situation and the time it took to respond to your situation was in direct association to the health of the cop? Would you want a cop in his/her physical prime or an overweight cop that could barely pull himself/herself from the responding vehicle? Imagine your house gets robbed and the responding officer is out of breath just climbing the stairs of your front porch. There's that stray thought in the back of your head that you might have to save the cop & give him/her CPR.

Hate breeds Hate.....

This post originally started as an irate FB post. I removed the post and gave some thought to what had happened to me. That post became fodder for a blog entry.

I have been coming to this island for over 30 years, since I was a kid.

I've lived here, this time, for over 10 years and I'm still amazed and somewhat saddened that I'm STILL thought of as an outside, a foreigner. I'm not talking about walking down Front Street and being mistaken for a tourist. I'm talking about my day to day life. I can frequent a shop weekly for years and still be seen as an outsider. I can offer conversation about the government, local happenings, etc, and still not be consider a 'local' by the locals. 



I recently went to a fast food restaurant to have lunch and enjoy the airco and WiFi. It's something I do an a nearly weekly basis. My guilty pleasure. It was a scorching hot day and I needed to seek refuge from the heat. Once I stepped inside I let out a long sigh of relief as the cold air hit me. Bliss. I greeted the staff with the usual broad grin and 'Good Afternoon' that was happily returned, ordered my meal and found a comfortable spot away form the general hustle and bustle of the restaurant. I happily began enjoying my lunch and unpacked my laptop.

After about 10 minutes I was aware that the crowd noise seemed to be louder than usual in the restaurant. I looked up from my laptop to glance around. There was a woman with her gaggle of children sitting 2 tables away from me. There were a least 6 kids. I'm not sure if they were all hers, but that was the impression I got. The kids ranged in age from about 5 to 12. The younger ones were in the play area set up for kids, having a grand old time. In fact, some of their antics were making me chuckle. Seems a pecking order had been established by a young girl of about 3. She was bossy and didn't take NO for an answer. Her braids, with pink beads at the ends, bounced furiously as she barked out orders. The older kids obeyed her without questions. Was cute to see her directing them. On occasion the kids would trickle out to grab a sip of soda or a bite to eat before being herded back to the play area by the little general to continue having fun. I turned back to my lunch and laptop.

Less than 5 minutes passed before an ear splitting shriek sounded out across the restaurant. Seems the 2 oldest kids were in a squabble. A girl of about 12, who was dressed like something out of the local brothels had decided to tease her younger brother, of about 9, by taking his food. It was the boy who had let out the glass shattering scream as he began chasing his sister around the restaurant like a rampaging rhino, pushing chairs & bumping into tables. The ruckus rolled to a stop at the booth directly behind me, but the sound level did not stop, it intensified. I drew in an annoyed breath and muttered, For God sake, SHUT UP, under my breath. With a shake of my head I focused back on my laptop.

From the booth behind me I heard a loud teeth suck and the girl stated rather loudly: White people just have no manners and are rude. My spine stiffened at the insolent comment and my jaw clenched. I promptly twisted around in my chair to pin the 'child' with a glare and said forcefully. "You're running around in a restaurant screaming and carrying on like a 2 year old & you say I'm being rude. So sorry. Will you PLEASE shut the hell up." As I turned back around this little chit states in a loud voice that just because I'm white I think i can be rude. This mule of a girl then gets up, comes to stand next to my table and proceeds to start a rant about how white people come down on black people and that white people think they are all better than blacks & white people think they're so smart...All this because of being told to shut up...She is  making an effort to wind herself up and she's looking around to see who is paying attention to her asinine rant. Only her mother was looking on but silent. When the girl stopped to draw a breath I simply shrugged and stated: Manners, Race & Stupidity are 3 different issues. Race has nothing to do with the fact that you're just simply rude and displaying your stupidity. My comment received a few quick smiles from nearby tables of locals and visitors alike. It also brought the girl up short, mouth open like a fish gasping for air. She snapped her mouth shut. It was at this point that her mother got up, gathered the rest of her brood and shuffled them out of the restaurant. From what I gathered from the staff after the group left, they had apparently been sitting in the restaurant for quite some time, making a nuisance of themselves, talking rudely to the staff and making comments about the manager and other diners, etc.

It's not so much the lack of manners that is shocking, but the ignorance that accompanied it. For a young person to blurt out racial comments and imply oppression without any true understanding is shameful. The words this girl was spewing was obviously ideas she was parroting from her mother/guardian. I find these ideas to be a common sentiment among the locals. They constantly refer to their history of slavery and seem to fall upon that or use it as a crutch whenever something doesn't go their way. A decision doesn't go in their favor and many are quick to claim 'repression' or race. I just want to point out that, realistically, we're ALL foreigners here. No matter if you're 'born here' or not. The ancestors of all the 'locals' were brought over in the slave trade. Sad, but indeed a fact. Unless your family tree can be traced back to Arawak or Caribe Indians, you're a foreigner, too. Parents don't seem to realize this as they nurture their own hate through their children. Parents are the 1st/last/ONLY line of defense for their child/children. When young, children parrot their parents, it's a natural learning process. So when you think your child is too young, or doesn't understand, you may be right, but that won't stop them from spewing the same things you say. So if you talk about racism or hate, you're giving those sentiments to your offspring to mimic. By the time they are old enough to even understand what they;re saying, the seed of hate has been planted. As a parent you must be the one to decide whether or not to let that seed grow.

Hate breeds hate.

Heineken Regatta non-sense.

Well, It's that time again. The last big event of High Season.

Regatta. The time of year when throngs of ppl descend on the island and party like rock stars and leave a trail of disaster in their wake and a bad taste in the mouth for some. Most ppl who live here see it as another reason to party...which is just fine. There are others that see it as a way to make more money - the final push before season's end. And there are also some who avoid it like a plague. I'm in the 'plague' group.

In the past 10 years I've attended my fair share of Regattas. I love watching the boats - the actual racing..the REASON for the Regatta. The mad dash to the start line as one class breaks from the mob on the water, the colorful spinnakers. The ocean shinning like diamonds tossed across an indigo cloth. The trade winds pushing the boats along, testing their mettle and that of the crew. It's a hell of a thing and a beautiful thing. I had the distinct pleasure of being on a boat near the starting line the year Steve Fosset graced our waters with PlayStation, and shattered the Island Record. I meet him hours later at a press conference and was gobsmacked. He was a brilliant man. I've even participated in the Sunday Night Debauchery, shared the misery of the island wide hangover on Monday. Yes, yes, I've done it. Then I stopped doing it.

The main reason is the ppl who come here and act like imbeciles. Hey, I'm all for visitors coming here, helping the economy and having a good time, getting u'r drunk on and all, but when there are no signs of inhibitions left and the fun turns to stupidness, then it's just annoying. I'm always amazed at the things ppl do here that they clearly would NOT do from where they are from. And I always find myself asking:Why? Why do ppl find that it's perfectly acceptable to come here and act like baboons. I think most of them believe: Hell, I don't know anyone here, so who cares. Well....I CARE. I care that you don't think you have to consider the ppl who live here. Yes, those of us who live here like to party, we've all had our moments of debauchery, but we're doing it AT HOME. We haven't trapized off to some random location to put our party dress on. We do it at home. This island is our home. We don't walk around in matching t-shirts to declare we belong to a particular group. We know where we belong. I understand wearing t-shirts for 'boat/crew pride' But the shirts just seem to be more of an identifying beacon for which group was more ridiculous than another. The shirts also help in identifying which boat some drunken fellow should be returned to, when he's found '3 sheets to the wind' face down on Kim Shaw beach at 3am.

And there's the aftermath of bad press. Incidences of crime spike. Everything from a simple pickpocket to assault. And all because ppl don't know where to draw the line in the glass. Ppl get annihilated thinking: one of my crew/friends will look out for me. Problem is - the EVERYONE is shitfaced. Ppl who promised to stick together get separated, having to make their on way back to their boat/hotel. Yes, visitors may get taken advantage of in their drunken states, and yes, that sucks...but those lovely crew shirts may as well have a big target or KICK ME sign painted on the back. And so the tales of: You won't believe what happened to me... begin to circulate, casting an even drearier pall over an island already struggling with an identity crisis.

So, this year, I'll be on the sidelines, watching as the boats sail past my house & I'll raise a drink with my dad in a silent toast to the boats.