Case #4 - re The People vs Louis Suazo (What do you get when you cross a spider with a Mexican)
One nice summer day, in around 2003, Louis Suazo and I were driving along in the 2800 block of Dominguez St. We were flagged down by a couple that we refered to as, “The Turtle People”, because they raised turtles. Actually they raised tortoises, but, Turtle People", flows better, so that's what we went with... and Louis really doesn't know the difference anway. “The Turtle People” were pro-law enforcement and very active in their community. “The Turtle People” told us there was a transient living in a fenced off, brush filled, area at the end of the cul-de-sac. We told them we would take care of the problem and drove down to the end of the cul-de-sac.
We squeezed through a gate in the chain link fence, to get into a small field. Louis had to do a little more squeezing than I did. We immediately found ourselves engulfed by chest high weeds, head high from Louis’ perspective. A few steps in and the weeds were over my head and we were under a canopy provided by several tall skinny trees. We couldn’t see 3’ in front of us. It reminded me of the stories that the REALLY old guys on the department, tell about Viet Nam. Louis took point. He started using his streamlight like a machete and whacked his way along a barely discernible path.
Now most people reading this know Louis, but for those of you who don’t, he’s about 5’05” standing. He has a barrel chest that makes him about 5’05” high when he’s lying down too. He has a moustache as thick as his chest that he's had since he was in third grade and despite the extra chest girth and moustache hair, God decided not to give him a neck. When he sets to do something he gets this focused, determined look that can be very intimidating. I walked along behind Louis as he whacked a path for us, thinking to myself that he looked like a frustrated little bull.
After a minute or so, I saw a clearing up ahead with an extinguished fire pit in the center. Just as Louis was stepping into the clearing, his head ducked down, his arms flew up and he performed two rather clumsy pirouettes, as he then stumbled into the clearing. All the while, the streamlight in his right hand was flailing all about in the air and his left hand was waving frantically back and forth in front of his face as if he were being attacked by unseen ghosts. Louis continued to duck, flail and pirouette half way around the circumference of the clearing. As I watched this disturbing version of the “Lambada”, I realized two things;
- Firstly, I now realized why Louis never danced at the station’s off-training parties.
- Secondly, I now knew why it was called, "the Forbidden Dance".
Louis’ uncoordinated little ballet took him close to the fire pit where some coals had been stacked. Louis spun around so his back was to the pile of coals and the fire pit, and moonwalked back toward them, while his upper body swayed from side to side and his arms rapidly criss crossed in front of his face. He stepped back onto the mounded coals and the coals rolled under his feet. Louis lost his balance and started falling backward. He began churning his stubby little legs faster and faster in an effort to regain his balance, but it was to no avail. The faster he moved his feet, the faster the coals flew out from underneath them, and the faster they flew out from under his feet, the more balance he lost, and the more balance he lost, the farther back he leaned, and the farther back he leaned, the faster he had to move his feet in a losing effort to regain his balance. It was a cruel and sadistic cycle, but one that had a foregone conclusion. Louis finally reached the point of no return, and fell backward, landing on his back in the fire pit. I lost sight of him momentarily as a thick cloud of gray ash flew into the air. As the ash floated away on the breeze and settled to the ground, I saw Louis lying on his back in the fire pit, covered in ash. His arms and legs were flailing about in the air. He looked just like one of “The Turtle People’s” turtles, stuck on its back.
I like to watch the Nature Channel shows and on those shows the people never help the animals they are filming, no matter what their predicament. The philosophy being that, “…it’s Nature’s way of weeding the strong from the weak…”, so, no matter how much I liked Louis, I figured he would be better off in the long run if I didn’t help him. It was hard for me to watch him, his little stubby arms and legs flailing helplessly about, because I was laughing so hard I was crying and the tears were causing my vision to blur. He just couldn't squeeze out that ONE sit up. Apparently the six pack of his youth had turned into a full on kegger. After a few minutes, he had to take a breather to get some air into his lungs and to regain some of that energy. After about thirty seconds of huffing and puffing on his back, to reoxygenate those brain cells, he tried a new strategy to right himself. He started rolling, back and forth, from side to side. Each roll added to his momentum. I thought he had it on about the fifth roll. He was alllllmost at the tipping point, but despite putting some extra last seconds of effort into the roll, and turning beet red in the face, he had to give that one up and give it another go to the other side. THAT one was rewarded with a successful roll to his stomach! From there, it was just five seconds of rest, then it was a piece of cake, to get to his hands and knees and finally to a sitting position. He was exhausted by the experience and had to sit for awhile. He sat there huffing and puffing with a dazed look on his face. I was so proud of him. He looked up at me and apparently mistook my pride in him for laughter directed at him.
“What?” Louis asked
“It was a spider!” he continued, by way of explanation.
Verdict – Louis Suazo, this Court finds you Guilty of Arachnophobia, Dancing Like A White Boy With Epilepsy and Imitating A Turtle.
Sentence – On the charge of Arachnophobia, you are sentenced to the nickname “Little Miss Muffet” until such time that you can prove to this Court that you are no longer afraid of spiders and are worthy of being called a man. And hey, that secretary job you took?...Doesn’t help.
On the charge of Dancing Like A White Boy With Epilepsy, you are sentenced to watch Michael Jackson videos (the music videos, not the OTHER videos) everyday for one year, and attend a Jazzercise class at your local gym for the same period of time.
On the charge of Imitating A Turtle, you are sentenced to do sit-ups, until such time that you can actually do one.
One nice summer day, in around 2003, Louis Suazo and I were driving along in the 2800 block of Dominguez St. We were flagged down by a couple that we refered to as, “The Turtle People”, because they raised turtles. Actually they raised tortoises, but, Turtle People", flows better, so that's what we went with... and Louis really doesn't know the difference anway. “The Turtle People” were pro-law enforcement and very active in their community. “The Turtle People” told us there was a transient living in a fenced off, brush filled, area at the end of the cul-de-sac. We told them we would take care of the problem and drove down to the end of the cul-de-sac.
We squeezed through a gate in the chain link fence, to get into a small field. Louis had to do a little more squeezing than I did. We immediately found ourselves engulfed by chest high weeds, head high from Louis’ perspective. A few steps in and the weeds were over my head and we were under a canopy provided by several tall skinny trees. We couldn’t see 3’ in front of us. It reminded me of the stories that the REALLY old guys on the department, tell about Viet Nam. Louis took point. He started using his streamlight like a machete and whacked his way along a barely discernible path.
Now most people reading this know Louis, but for those of you who don’t, he’s about 5’05” standing. He has a barrel chest that makes him about 5’05” high when he’s lying down too. He has a moustache as thick as his chest that he's had since he was in third grade and despite the extra chest girth and moustache hair, God decided not to give him a neck. When he sets to do something he gets this focused, determined look that can be very intimidating. I walked along behind Louis as he whacked a path for us, thinking to myself that he looked like a frustrated little bull.
After a minute or so, I saw a clearing up ahead with an extinguished fire pit in the center. Just as Louis was stepping into the clearing, his head ducked down, his arms flew up and he performed two rather clumsy pirouettes, as he then stumbled into the clearing. All the while, the streamlight in his right hand was flailing all about in the air and his left hand was waving frantically back and forth in front of his face as if he were being attacked by unseen ghosts. Louis continued to duck, flail and pirouette half way around the circumference of the clearing. As I watched this disturbing version of the “Lambada”, I realized two things;
- Firstly, I now realized why Louis never danced at the station’s off-training parties.
- Secondly, I now knew why it was called, "the Forbidden Dance".
Louis’ uncoordinated little ballet took him close to the fire pit where some coals had been stacked. Louis spun around so his back was to the pile of coals and the fire pit, and moonwalked back toward them, while his upper body swayed from side to side and his arms rapidly criss crossed in front of his face. He stepped back onto the mounded coals and the coals rolled under his feet. Louis lost his balance and started falling backward. He began churning his stubby little legs faster and faster in an effort to regain his balance, but it was to no avail. The faster he moved his feet, the faster the coals flew out from underneath them, and the faster they flew out from under his feet, the more balance he lost, and the more balance he lost, the farther back he leaned, and the farther back he leaned, the faster he had to move his feet in a losing effort to regain his balance. It was a cruel and sadistic cycle, but one that had a foregone conclusion. Louis finally reached the point of no return, and fell backward, landing on his back in the fire pit. I lost sight of him momentarily as a thick cloud of gray ash flew into the air. As the ash floated away on the breeze and settled to the ground, I saw Louis lying on his back in the fire pit, covered in ash. His arms and legs were flailing about in the air. He looked just like one of “The Turtle People’s” turtles, stuck on its back.
I like to watch the Nature Channel shows and on those shows the people never help the animals they are filming, no matter what their predicament. The philosophy being that, “…it’s Nature’s way of weeding the strong from the weak…”, so, no matter how much I liked Louis, I figured he would be better off in the long run if I didn’t help him. It was hard for me to watch him, his little stubby arms and legs flailing helplessly about, because I was laughing so hard I was crying and the tears were causing my vision to blur. He just couldn't squeeze out that ONE sit up. Apparently the six pack of his youth had turned into a full on kegger. After a few minutes, he had to take a breather to get some air into his lungs and to regain some of that energy. After about thirty seconds of huffing and puffing on his back, to reoxygenate those brain cells, he tried a new strategy to right himself. He started rolling, back and forth, from side to side. Each roll added to his momentum. I thought he had it on about the fifth roll. He was alllllmost at the tipping point, but despite putting some extra last seconds of effort into the roll, and turning beet red in the face, he had to give that one up and give it another go to the other side. THAT one was rewarded with a successful roll to his stomach! From there, it was just five seconds of rest, then it was a piece of cake, to get to his hands and knees and finally to a sitting position. He was exhausted by the experience and had to sit for awhile. He sat there huffing and puffing with a dazed look on his face. I was so proud of him. He looked up at me and apparently mistook my pride in him for laughter directed at him.
“What?” Louis asked
“It was a spider!” he continued, by way of explanation.
Verdict – Louis Suazo, this Court finds you Guilty of Arachnophobia, Dancing Like A White Boy With Epilepsy and Imitating A Turtle.
Sentence – On the charge of Arachnophobia, you are sentenced to the nickname “Little Miss Muffet” until such time that you can prove to this Court that you are no longer afraid of spiders and are worthy of being called a man. And hey, that secretary job you took?...Doesn’t help.
On the charge of Dancing Like A White Boy With Epilepsy, you are sentenced to watch Michael Jackson videos (the music videos, not the OTHER videos) everyday for one year, and attend a Jazzercise class at your local gym for the same period of time.
On the charge of Imitating A Turtle, you are sentenced to do sit-ups, until such time that you can actually do one.
Holy cow!
ReplyDeleteThis is a lot of fun!
Love this part, I so agree.
The philosophy being that, “…it’s Nature’s way of weeding the strong from the weak…”, so, no matter how much I liked Louis, I figured he would be better off in the long run if I didn’t help him.
I so often hope for the return of Darwinism to our coddled society.
Nicely done!
HA HA HA! I like to think Lou owes his future accomplishments, which weren't many, to my making him a stronger person that day.
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