Tattle Tale

This week I programmed the Mesa Police department’s number into my cell. Its official, calling the police and reporting “incidents” is my new favorite. I was constantly calling Campus Security (they are more hardcore than the sound—they have guns) and the Rexburg Police during college, and now I have graduated to monitoring an entire city. Thus far, I have called in to report the following:

- A dead dog on the sidewalk bleeding out of its pooper—unsanitary and unsightly
- That I was unfairly “flashed” along with everyone else passing through the green light by a malfunctioning intersection camera that would have mailed all of us ticket—so unjust
- A car driving down the interstate at 11:00 at night without working tail lights—stupid
- Junk in the middle of the road (bumpers, tires)—an accident waiting to happen

Maybe it’s my need to brownnose to authority, or my overwhelming desire to make Mesa a safer place, but all I know is that I love calling in with a report and getting asked my name and phone number in case they need more information. (They haven’t yet, but the prospect is exciting.) I’m sure someday my contribution will be recognized and I’ll win the Nobel Prize for making the most police calls by one person ever. Let it be known: I plan to save the world one phone call at a time.


  1. You're hilarious!! Your pictures are nice and big now too! Nice work!

  2. I think your cousin Clint might have you beat at calling reports into the police but maybe if you deliver papers at 4 am you could make more calls!

  3. Special shout out to Caley for teaching me how to enlarge photos! So much easier than I thought.

    Holly-excellent point with Clint. It looks like I have a little competiton for the Nobel.