E-Mail This Article to a Friend Being and nothingness BY JOCELYN BRICK-TURIN

Being the forgiving soul that I am, I decided to give the police one more shot at my respect. (See "Tears of the DNC", when I lost it.) I chatted with a Massachusetts State Police Officer who spoke on the condition of anonymity. He was sitting in the driver’s seat of a black cruiser, monitoring the corner of Beacon St. and the entrance to Storrow Drive.

"Why are you here?" I thought it was a fair way to start.

"I believe it’s for security and to allow delegates and other dignitaries easier access to the Fleet Center," he conjectured. I didn’t bother asking about the rest of us. "This is a really boring post," he let slip a minute later. I offered him my Harry Potter, but he already had a book. And a TV. Another perk, if you’ll stretch your imagination for the euphemism, is delivered lunch. Officers can choose turkey, chicken salad, or corn beef sandwiches.

"We had a little barbecue before we came out... I haven’t had a hot dinner in six days." The monotony of his work is confounded by his solitude. "The state police are always alone," he said, when I asked if he had a partner like cops on TV.

So my officer sits alone, with the engine ripping holes in the ozone (the electronic equipment would drain the battery in half an hour), for 13 hours a day with no action. "Who thought this was a good idea?" I inquired.

"The democrats."

This trooper has not been completely devoid of human interaction. People have stopped to ask for directions. And always trying to be positive, he said as a country boy, it’s been interesting for him to be in the city and meet people from around the country.

I asked if he’d met any famous people, as one of his responsibilities is checking credentials at the entrance to Storrow Drive. He said he thought Sen. Tom Daschle came by, but the limo windows are dark, so it’s hard to tell. He interrupted himself to point out the first goose he’d seen while on patrol as it waddled by our interview. And he told me about a homeless man who lives under the bridge behind his post.

"You’re probably the most famous person I’ve met," he surmised.

Well, my mom’s heard of me.

My new friend also said he’d seen some sort of outreach group checking on his homeless neighbor. "I didn’t see Sen. Edwards or Sen. Kerry out looking for them."

"Would you have liked to?"

"Yes."

"Are you looking forward to the DNC being over?"

"Definitely. And you can quote me on that."