I Admit It -- I Watch "Cops"

OK, who here watches “Cops”? Please don’t tell me I’m the only one watching this show.

I am fascinated. And repulsed. Fascinated and repulsed and maybe just a tad gleeful.

“Run!” I yell at the TV screen, and sure as hell, there they go. Having been chased for miles by multiple police cars, a conga line of gyrating lights, burning rubber, and sirens, these morons will jump from the car they’ve just crashed into some poor guy’s car/fence/home and take off on foot to the woods.

“Run!” I yell. “You morons!”

And they do. Because if there’s anything that these guys know for sure is that they just might get away. What the heck? They’re screwed as it is. Why not give it a shot?

Don’t you wish that this extended into other aspects of American crime? I’m tired of watching drug dealers, drunk drivers, and car thieves running from the cops. How much fun would it be to see some Suit from Bear Stearns come whipping out of that building on Madison Avenue, tearing down the steps, a brief case clutched in one white-knuckled hand, the other brandishing a stapler, sweating through his white collared shirt, wild-eyed, the corners of his mouth congealed with white spittle? “Stay back! I swear to God I’ll collate!”

Of course, we’ll never see that, but what kind of ratings would that get?! Better yet, how much fun would it be to see white-collar criminals looking like the blue-collar criminals you see on "Cops"? The head of Enron thrown to the ground, five-six cops on him, his “This Face Seats Two” shirt torn and bloodied, the faded circle of a Skoal’s can visible on his sagging jeans’ back pocket as an officer’s foot comes down to pin him to the ground?

“We found this in the bushes,” says one of the cops, holding aloft a copy of the company’s earning statements (minus the balance sheet).

“I’m holding that for a friend!” the flustered CFO screams.

“Yeah?” says the cop, “What’s his name?”

“I don’t know, man! This dude just asked me to hold it for him.”

The police chuckle to themselves as the screen fades to black. “The Mysterious Dude Defense,” one of them says. “Wish I had a dollar for every time I heard that one.”