GOOD PRESS, BAD PRESS

There has been a lot of bad press concerning the NYPD over the past year. The reaction at the Empire State Building, the wanton destruction of 3,000 book from the People's Library at Zucotti Park, the disproportionate Stop & Frisk, and the hate posts on Facebook have not cast the department in a favorable light. However, my own experience has been good, especially in the everyday encounters with Civilian Traffic Agents (traffic cops). During morning rush hours, I've seen some musical varieties that would make Leonard Bernstein proud:

Ms. Salsa--she dances while directing the cars coming off the 59th Street bridge and when I say dancing I mean a full body high octane routine.
Mr. Wrist Action--he holds his arm straight up as though he were the Statue of Liberty. His fingers twirl to indicate speed and location. Is it an optical illusion or can he, like owls, rotate 360 degrees?
Mrs. Yeller--she's a cheerleader who never had her 15 minutes of fame and is making up for that lost ambition.
The New Guy--ramrod straight, he has a piercing whistle which can probably be heard to the Bronx. There is no leeway in his composition book.

I have not seen anyone become angry or impatient or act ill-treated. These are those "who play well with others." My mother was expressive in her speech. The city was teeming. The heat was beastly. She would have not used party as a verb. Whatever the occasion, it was described in the Irish way, grand.

On a beastly hot day in the teeming city, it was grand to watch the NYPD traffic division conduct its orchestra of motor vehicles; suren' 'twas a party, indeed.