Release the hounds

If you follow this blog with any regularity, and if you do you really need to develop some healthier reading habits, then you know this about me for certain: I loves me a high-speed chase.

And while one of the things I love is the inevitable surrender (usually) of the suspect, what I enjoy even more is watching a K-9 officer take down a suspect who's not cooperating.

I think we can paint with broad strokes here and say perpetrators who lead the police on these chases aren't nearly as smart as the trained German Shepherds who occasionally have to ply their trade.

Of course, as you know, I have a German Shepherd to call my own. I remember when I first got him, one of the asshat neighbors referred to him as a police dog. I didn't like it then, but I'd take it as a compliment now.

Although between you and me, Max hasn't read the German Shepherd manual. He'd never make it through the academy.

Anyway, last night there was a slow-speed chase through Orange County, and once out of the car, the suspect wasn't complying. You can tell from the middle right side of the picture above what happens next, but if you want to see for yourself, just click here.

You know the old saying, "His bark is worse than his bite."

Not this time.

Cut to the chase

You'd think I live in a rusty Airstream trailer, strewn with beer cans, yellowed newspapers and cigarette smoke stains on the fake wood-veneer cabinets and shag carpet.

But God help me, I loves me a good high-speed chase.

I have a system - what I like to call my personal HSC Alert Hotline. Several friends and relatives are in place near their phones at all times. When they happen to come upon a HSC as they're switching channels, they immediately call and let me know.

I take it from there. I immediately leap into action. By action, I mean drop everything I'm doing, grab the remote, switch to the station(s) covering the chase, plant my ever expanding derriere on the couch then sit back, settle in and watch the chase until it reaches it's inevitable conclusion no matter how long it takes. And know this: the really good ones can go on for hours, especially if it's an SUV with a spare gas tank.

Now you might say to yourself, "How sad he has to watch his high speed chases all alone." First, thank you for your concern. But you'll be happy to hear I don't.

The other person in my house, the only other person who appreciates the extremely high entertainment value of them as much as I do is my 12-year old daughter. The apple doesn't fall far from the police helicopter.

As we switch back and forth between channels covering the chase, looking to see which news chopper has the best overhead shot, we always ask the same question: how does the guy driving think this is going to end? Does he think the police chasing him will:

A) Run out of gas

B) Get tired and go home

C) Get lost and have to pull over for directions

D) Not drive nearly as well as he can when he's that high

And by the way, what exactly does he think that bright white light shining down on him from overhead no matter which neighborhood, on-ramp or back alley he turns on to is. The sun? The angel on his shoulder?

Not so much.

The police helicopter pilots are the unsung heroes of the high speed chase. Oh sure, we all love seeing the perp narrowly avoid crashing into pedestrians, trash cans, trees and other vehicles. And what viewer doesn't get tingly at the prospect of seeing one of the several police cars in pursuit deciding to do the PIT maneuver.

By the way, only hardcore chase fans know that PIT stands for Pursuit Intervention Technique. Go ahead, impress your friends. Win bar bets. You're welcome.

Earlier I mentioned the inevitable conclusion: here's what it is, although you've probably guessed by now. After the suspect runs out of gas, crashes the car, turns on to a dead end street, drives the tires that have been flattened by a spike strip down to the wheels - which now look like sparklers riding on the cement, loses his buzz or jumps out of the car and makes a run for it, the chopper pilot just shines the light on him as a guiding beacon for the police to come and get their man (or woman - seen a few of those too).

Occasionally they won't come out of the car when asked, and that's when it gets tense. The police surround the car, guns drawn and make it very clear what they want him to do. It gets really good sometimes when the police are distracting him on one side of the car, and then more police open the door on the other side and drag him out (sometimes they just pull him through the window if he's pissed them off enough).

I've never seen a suspect get shot, which is a good thing since my daughter is almost always next to me watching. I suppose there's always the chance that could happen, and if it does I'll try to use it as a teaching moment. You want to play, you have to pay.

When it's all over, the feeling is exactly like coming home from Vegas. Everything seems a lot slower and a little duller.

The good thing is that this is Los Angeles, so high speed chases are like buses - miss one, there'll be another along any minute.

Many people think the saddest words are "what might've been."

For me, they're "we now return you to our regular programming."

You have the right to remain in the car like a scared little girl

It's L.A. Money talks. And tonight it said I get to ride along with the L.A.P.D. on the night shift in South Los Angeles.

My kid's school has an annual fundraising auction. Every year, we spend a perfectly good Saturday night looking at baskets of shampoo and body washes, pictures of cabins in Mammoth, inflatable backyard movie screens and other items we can silently bid on. Usually there's not much I'm interested in.

Although don't get me wrong - I do love a nice body wash.

But this year, I saw this little item and for several reasons I knew I had to have it.

One is I grew up on the mean streets of West Los Angeles (north of Wilshire). The city is my beat (see what I did there?). Also, I love watching COPS. Every episode there's a drunk guy in a beer-stained, white tank top tripping over his tongue trying to explain to the incredibly patient officer why he's not the guy they're after.

Comedy at its finest.

I've always had tremendous respect and admiration for the job the police do. Sure, we all hear about the bad ones. But every day, in cities all over the country they're putting their lives on the line to protect us.

Over the years I've had a few occasions to call the police in our city in the middle of the night when we thought someone was on our property. They were here in less than 30 seconds. When it turned out to be nothing, I apologized for wasting their time, saying they probably had real crimes to solve. They insisted they'd rather I call and have it turn out to be nothing than not call and actually have some criminal to deal with.

While I'm sitting at my desk trying to think of some clever little tagline for a car or fast food company, they're on the streets wondering if the jacked up guy they're stopping for speeding is going to pull out a gun and make it their last day on the job. And on earth.

I think if I ever told a cop about how rough I thought my day was they'd double over laughing.

Besides being a fan of the police, I'm also a fan of high speed chases. If I catch one on the news, or if one of my friends calls me and tells me there's one on, I drop everything and sit glued to the television until it's over. Every time I ask the same question: how does this guy think it's going to end? Does he think the cops and helicopters will just get tired and let him go? My favorite part, besides when they stop and come out with their hands up, is when the cop car does that maneuver where they tap the bumper and the suspect's car goes spinning out of control. Very entertaining.

I'm sure my ride-along will be extremely interesting. And I'm sure since it's in one of the tougher parts of L.A. I'll see a few things I wouldn't normally get exposed to.

Right now I'm hoping we're in hot pursuit in a high speed chase.

But my guess is when I'm sitting in the police car, I'll be hoping for an uneventful night where we both return safely and I have a great story to tell my kids.