Raining on the 12th Precinct

When I think of rainy days, and the melancholy effect they can have on us, I think of an episode of the classic TV sitcom, Barney Miller, a wry, understated  comedy series that ran from 1975-82.  The episode was called simply, “Rain,” and you can watch it at that link.

For the uninitiated, who missed one of the era’s best comedy series as well as the most ethnically and racially diverse, Barney Miller is set in New York City’s 12th Precinct police station on East 6th Street in Greenwich Village.  Each episode takes place almost entirely within the tight confines of the detectives’ squad room and Capt. Miller’s adjoining office, which subs as a patient treatment room. And the patients are Miller’s detectives.

Miller the multitasker

Miller is not only the police captain, but also the camp counselor and psychologist for his laid-back crew of detectives. It’s as if all the lovable misfits of the NYPD have been assigned to this 12th Precinct and Miller’s care. And that’s great news for the viewers of this show.

A typical episode features the detectives of the 12th bringing in several zany  complainants and/or suspects to the squad room. Usually, there are two or three separate subplots in a given episode, with different officers dealing with different crimes.

Under a leaky roof

In the “Rain” episode, the action around the squad room is particularly slow, apparently because the crooks on the street are staying home out of the rain.

Barney and his dim light bulb Detective Wojciehowicz (mercifully nicknamed “Wojo”) are leaning on their respective windowsills as they stare blandly at the raindrops splashing against the windows.

They begin contemplating the meaning of life, wondering if this is all there is to it, and wondering when it will stop raining.

“Can you give me some idea of when this will stop?” Miller asks a meteorologist on the phone. “Forty days, maybe?”

The Rockefeller Effect

Meanwhile Sgt. Nick Yemana, the designated coffee maker, has opened his window to catch some rainwater to make the day’s brew. The idea is it may produce something more ingestible than his normally questionable java.

“Some guy claims that the rain is controlled by the Rockefeller family,” he says, reading from the newspaper. “To bring about a one-world government. Ever seen Rocky with an umbrella? He don’t need one. It don’t rain on him.”

Meanwhile, Sgt. Amenguale is slowly going nuts at his desk, which is filled with tin pans catching raindrops leaking through the old, cracked ceiling above him. The rain is not only dampening his desk, but also his spirits.

Why bother?

Lamenting the unrelenting crime in the city, he tells Barney, “It seems like no matter how hard we work, everything stays the same as it was.”

“That’s called progress,” Miller replies.

The only thing approaching a crime of the day occurs when a nightclub comedian starts insulting an unresponsive audience, causing a brawl. Amenguale is sent out to arrest him. Miller tells his Detective Harris to go with him, but the would-be novelist who considers police work only his day job, balks at going back out in the rain before relenting.

Catch and release

The two bring the club comedian to the station, only to have the suspect’s lawyer threaten Miller with a lawsuit because of the inhumane, wet conditions in the room’s holding cell.

Later, the owner of the night club drops the charges, electing to keep the comic on until he can pay for the damages he caused to the club.

“Great,” Miller responds. “The only catch of the day, and we have to throw him back.”

The downpour and outburst

Photo by Joey Velasquez/Pixabay

Finally, a piece of the ceiling caves in, causing Miller to explode and call the police commissioner’s office to complain about the deplorable working conditions for his men. But he can’t get through because the rain has washed out the phone lines.

The episode closes with the normally calm Miller apologizing to his men for his angry outburst.

“That’s okay,”  Detective Fish responds. “We all get depressed. You were just the first one to put it into scream.”

To which Amenguale adds, “Yes, depression is like a bad cold. One guy gets it, and it just starts spreading around.”

Yeah, rainy days can be like that. But if you have to have one, it’s great to have a funny show like Barney Miller to watch.

The Parents Group

The Parents Group

When our son was born in New York Hospital I was asked if we’d like to attend The First Year of Life,  a series of quarterly lectures by Lee Salk,  the renown child psychologist.  Of course we signed up and over the following year we attended four wonderful lectures held in a hospital meeting room.

Most of the others in the room were first-time parents like us,  all eager to learn how to navigate in our new roles.   Dr Salk was kind and informative, took time to answer our questions, and imbued us with some needed confidence.  At the end of the final session – now all parents of one-year-olds  –  we thanked  our lecturer and were filing out of the room when someone held up a sheet of paper.    “If you’d like to stay in touch”,  he called out,  “give me your name and we can continue to meet.”

Six or seven couples did,  including us, and in fact Danny and I offered  to host those parents and their one-year-olds in our apartment for the first meeting of what we came to call our “parents group”.

After that we continued to meet with our kids in each others’ homes,  in parks and playgrounds,  at restaurants and theaters,  and during one memorable summer at a rented beach house.  Over the years some families moved or dropped out,  but four couples remained and we became a close-knit group  – Janet & Les (the guy who held up that piece of paper almost 50 years ago),  Janet & Harold,  Lorraine & Eric,  and me & Danny.

Then all too quickly the years passed and our kids got older and went their separate ways,  but we adults continued to meet for dinners.  And then more time passed,  and a heart attack took one of us way too soon,  and memory loss has sidelined another,  and our parents group was sadly diminished,

But we’ll always have our memories of the joyous times we shared and the golden friendships we made in that wonderful community of eager young parents and their kids.

– Dana Susan Lehrman

A Rainy Day Read

 


Who was the cat?

Just a bad book baddie? 

Or was he something more.

Who are these false crusaders

who pull the books from our shelves,

who interpret their bogus meanings

without credibility or reserve.

 

In a day of dismal rain

with a fish who only swims

sat our two despondent children

as the cat commotion begins.

 

Like a book that opens doors

He appeared so colorfully real

Like a book that takes you places

He made his stay surreal

 

The cat did things no one does,

he crossed the parental lines.

He admonished the downcast day

with spectacular tricks of all kinds.

 

So Sally and Sam were enraptured 

and the boredom slowly decreased

The long day of rain forgotten

by the visit of this lyrical beast.

 

Soon the voice of the fish awoke them

reminding them the house needs a cleaning.

Just then the cat returned to help them,

leaving no trace of his fabled meaning.

 

Cats dressed in hats and red striped gloves

are as important to us as the creators we love.

Get out of our libraries, get out of our schools,

Your psychotic tendency are making these rules.