Worrying about the long arm of the law; my grandson’s

My grandson Edison is a serious kid. He’s ten years old, so the things he’s serious about differ from my own solemn concerns. He’s serious about Harry Potter, Nintendo Wii, his math homework (usually), and most notably, his job in law enforcement.

Edison is a cop.

Considering my own checkered past, I never thought I’d be saying that about a member of my family, but there it is; Eddie is a cop. Well, a safety. And as anyone can tell you, being a safety is that first step on a slippery slope that eventually leads to a career with the FBI or NSA.

Especially for a serious kid like Edison.

Now, before I go any further, I should point out that some of my best friends are cops. Really. Two serve as sheriffs to the counties in which they reside. A few are deputies. One is a young officer with the city of Grand Rapids.

Some of my best friends are cops… Hmm…that sounds uncomfortably similar to a phrase quasi-liberal white people once used to describe their relationships with African Americans. There’s probably a message here somewhere, but I’m not sure what it is.

The point is, during my years working as a reporter covering the “Law & Order” beat I met and befriended many folks in the law enforcement community. Like everyone everywhere, most of ‘em were nice; only a select few were twerps.

I’m afraid my grandson, should he continue his career in law enforcement, might wind up being one of the twerps. Because he’s so serious.

In a 1950s movie, he would not be the cool cop named Dave who lets the kids off with a warning for racing their hot rods out by the levy. If a young Steve McQueen tried to tell him a Blob from outer space was attacking the town, Edison would lock him up for public intoxication.

Edison would be, not Andy, but Barney Fife. That, at least, is my fear.

I base this assumption on his seriousness, of course, but also on the way putting on the uniform seems to change him. In Edison’s case, the uniform is a reflective belt worn over the shoulder, emblazoned with the legend “SAFETY PATROL.”

Every school day, rain, snow or shine, Edison dons the belt and mans his post, a busy intersection less than a block from his elementary school. I’ve seen him in action a few times and I can tell you this; nobody crosses against the light with Eddie on duty! He is large and in charge. Well, in charge, anyway. The safety belt makes him appear large.

When I confront him with my fears, Edison assures me he’s only in it for the hot cocoa the safeties get on mornings when the temperature falls below freezing. But I can’t help notice he’s started referring to kids who try to cut in line as “perps.”

Yesterday I caught him rehearsing the Miranda in front of the bathroom mirror. You know, “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law, dirtbag!”

I’m writing this column at a nearby coffee shop. When I drive home, I think I’ll try to avoid Eddie’s corner; I have a headlight out and can’t afford another ticket.

Missed a week? More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.