Everybody’s dangerous. Everybody’s dead. Everybody’s a job.

Warning: This article is emotionally fueled through my constant refusal to complain

I spent ten years as an emergency medical technician. In that time I was awarded the star of life and EMT of the year for the state of Florida. I shook hands to the Thanks of governors and congressmen.

I also have been held at gunpoint by a burglar once, and a police officer three times. All four times were scary, I guess.

I spent more time listening and figuring out how to get the gun out of my face than I did wondering why the gun was pulled on me. I survived each time.

If a gun is pulled on me again, it’s likely to be due to an article like this, or something else I wrote. But, I won’t be worried about that then either.

Whipping around town in an ambulance, to the address of someone in need, every fifteen minutes and just after you’ve cleaned up the blood, vomit, and general mess of the last person can be rewarding. If you’re looking for penance, that is.

But when you are working a job, away from your own family, there isn’t a whole lot you are thinking of besides getting back to them at the end of the day. This, I do realize, is the major hiccup in today’s Policing.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could just have an order of George Lucas’ Jedi to keep the peace? A force that…