Why We Live Here

Saturday evening, Shorty and I took Moose out to dinner and a movie. It was not a reward for the previous week as the previous week did not merit a reward. It was just that we had not done anything just for fun in a VERY long time.

We had dinner at Furr's and then went to the adjacent theatre complex to see "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs".

I pulled into the theatre's parking lot and there, on the sidewalk, was parked a police car. Actually, it was a Potter County Constable's car - a shiny new Dodge Charger with all the bells and whistles. Moose was jazzed, as in, "I have never seen one of these except on TV or in books". We all agreed it was a very cool car.

We went in, bought our tickets and proceeded to the ticket-taker station. The gentleman took out tickets and directed us to the correct theatre. Behind the ticket-taker stood two patrolmen, one in navy blue and one in khaki. We all said hello and turned to go to the theatre. Moose turned to me and said, "Oh, I wanted to tell him I liked his car". I said OK and Shorty and I stopped and waited while Moose went and spoke to the officers. They were very nice. The car turned out to belong to the khaki-clad officer who told Moose that he would show him the car when the movie was over. We thanked him (all the while I was thinking, yeah, right) and watched the flick.

The movie was good. The movie was snorting good if you're 9 years old. It ended and we exited the theatre. The officers were still there and, may my cynicism be struck down, remembered their promise.

Constable Jackson escorted us through the theatre lobby. We did get our share of looks from everyone else. Two old fogies and a child are evidently not the normal escortees for the constable.

We went outside and Constable Jackson showed Moose his weaponry, defensive apparel, and even let him sit in the driver's seat of "the fastest police car in Amarillo". Lights were turned on and sirens were heard.

Constable Jackson, sir, you are a hero.

Thank you.