When Colonel Culhane (Excuse me; I mean Mr. Ed) was a young man, long before fast food was invented, his hobby was cultivating roses. Over the years, he became too busy with the work of fighting crime and being the father of a sizable family and was lucky if he even found time to "smell the roses", let alone grow them.
Eventually, his kids grew up and moved away. Mr. Ed and his lovely wife Pat had more time for themselves. He took a renewed interest in his boyhood hobby. And, armed with his trusty garden weasel, our resourceful lawman became an even bigger thorn in the side of the forces of lawlessness.
What Mr. Ed did is not as outlandish as it might seem at first glance. All across America, law enforcement agencies are inventing new ways of analyzing crime problems in their communities and coming up with imaginative new tactics for preventing crimes from happening in the first place. We call this problem-solving policing.
If planting roses and sprucing up neighborhoods discourages crime and vandalism, they certainly belong in the repertoire of every police department in the land.
THE ROSE IS THE RUSE
Culhane one morning was incensed
By what the daily news dispensed.
It seems that crime was out of hand
In every town throughout the land.
Yes, everywhere the Colonel looked
Some crook was begging to be booked.
His Troopers worked around the clock.
Their strategy was deeds, not talk.
But though they worked with all their might
The end of it came not in sight.
The newsmen came to see our boy.
Said: "Well now, Colonel, what's your ploy?"
The Colonel had an answer, sure;
Though strangely cryptic and obscure.
But they were deadlined, rushed and harried
And later on the airwaves carried
This quote on all the evening news:
"A rose is a rose is the ruse!"
Well, off he went to URI
To meet with some genetics guy
Who'd made a name for working wonders
Producing monster floribundas.
Said: "Doc, the thing that I do mean
To find's a most specific gene.
A boon to all society:
A brand new rose variety
To grow throughout the state with ease
And in crooks alone cause allergies."
Once, the Romans in alarm
Called Cincinnatus from his farm.
And he in hand took reins of state.
His gardening just had to wait.
Culhane, you see, would not have gone.
Instead, he rototilled his lawn.
He plowed and planted, weaseled, hoed
Poured horse manure on by the load.
And then betook himself to sit
Upon his deck to read a bit.
The sun shone down. The rain fell soft.
And soon enough began to waft
Through all the land that lovely smell
That of the blooming rose does tell.
Well, soon the pollen in the breezes
Brought itchy eyes and hives and sneezes
To every bad guy in the state.
And so did crime at last abate.
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