YES, HE'S A SQUARE,
BUT HE'S MY SQUARE
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 When I was a boy and the 1950s were turning into the 1960s, a person like Professor
Constantine was not so unusual. People who were buying into the spirit and mores of the next decade would
describe a man like him as “a square” while tracing that shape in the air with their fingertips. The world
back then was full of “squares,” simple, faithful and courageous people who had brought us through the Great
Depression and World War II.In 1992, our New York State Police was in the midst of celebrating its 75th anniversary
with banquets, parades and open-houses across the state when a terrible scandal came to light. There was a
small group of investigators who had been falsifying evidence and telling lies while under oath in criminal
trials. That is the worst thing a police officer can do. Those who did it were eventually brought to justice,
but investigation into their wrong-doing took a long time and drew a lot of attention from the media.Some in the newsmedia were very unkind to the state police and to then Superintendent
Constantine. One columnist (I will only identify him as Bob) in particular made a big impression on us when
he ran a series of columns attacking Tom's integrity, his personality and his management style. Tom tried to
answer these screeds, but, being a “square,” he was at a disadvantage. The last of these columns was entitled:
“The Nose Grows on State Police Superintendent,” a most unamusing and undignified reference to Pinocchio whose
nose grew when he told a lie.Well, that attack on our noble knight provoked my literary muse and I came up with the
following response.THE BIG PICTURE Appalling, how you do describe The Chieftan of our Trooper Tribe. You say the topmost of our coppers Is telling lies and fibs and whoppers. That there are apples in the barrel, Rotten, though in gray apparel, On him you'd have affixed the blame And bid him hang his head in shame. That some retire, you say's indic'tive Of the fact that he's vindictive. And their successors, you submit, Are bits of fluff and jugs of spit. Poor Tom, he makes an easy mark For journalist and network shark. In speech, he's not a bit ironic So you guys make him sound moronic. The truth, he'll tell to you exactly, Precisely, yes, and matter-of-factly. Like Troopers all, he's quite direct And that makes him, to you, suspect. To Tom, by nature serious, You say: “You bore and weary us.” His forte's action -- deeds, not words. I guess that don't impress you birds. When slings and archery begin, He'll stand and take it on the chin. See, Tom keeps still old-fashioned ways; The job he'll do 'fore taking pay. Yes, Tom accepts the way it works: Responsibilities 'fore perks. Hey, even Atlas shrugged the sky. Not Tom; he'll stand and hold it high. Look around. Through all the land Police departments undermanned. And who is quitting in disgust? Why every other one of us. Notable among the losses Are whole platoons of burned-out bosses. Does anybody realize The toll this job takes on us guys? It's like we're hit with neutron bombs. Now, would you say the fault is Tom's? The stuff we see on streets each day Brings ulcers and makes hair turn gray. And things won't get no easier; The world's grown meaner, sleazier. The things that held it all together Are gone like snow in Summer weather. We feel alone. We feel like zeroes. Didn't we used to be the heroes? Back when you told a Trooper's story With emphasis upon the glory? Your calling, Bob, was quite a trade. Through sweat were reputations made. On top of that, it helped a bit To have some talent, brains and wit. And what they wrote back then was art. What made that Muse of yours depart? Apprenticing in college classes Instead of down among the masses? Or maybe you've a sheltered life Lived far from city grit and strife And much prefer the telephone To plumbing lower depths alone. No need to venture out at all; Disgruntled whiners, sure to call, Will tattle tales and dish the dirt -- They dressed J. Edgar in a skirt. There's irony and cheap sarcasm. Between the two, Bob, yawns a chasm. The one's insightful, bites with wit; The other -- there's no shining it. Presumptuous and even daft To try to teach a pro his craft. But let me recommend, not classes, Just go and get yourself some glasses. 'cause, Bob, your vision, it's myopic. You've skewed perspective on this topic. Of course that poor old Trooper's nose Is longer than Pinocchio's; But that's because that proud proboscis Adorns the face of a colossus. So next time, Bob, you go to write, Stand back and take in all the sight. And, Bob, I'll bet before you know it, You'll find that you've become a poet. Well, Professor Constantine came out on top in the end, his integrity intact. He is still
a square. That means he is a simple man who sees the world in black and white and our all of our choices in
life as between right and wrong. It also means that he has never become a cynical man.Not all of us see things so simply as he. That doesn't make us unworthy people -- just
more complex and subtle; as Homer described his hero Odysseus, we are of “many twists and turns/driven time and
again off course.”It's good to have someone in one's life who guides you back to the right path when your
complexities and subtleties and twists and turns drive you time and again off course. Tom speaks out Law Enforcement News interviews Tom Tom takes on Murphy Brown Tom speaks out on assisted suicide Tom on "Heroin Chic" Tom on legalizing drugs Tom on the threat to Mexican financial institutions Tom tells it like it is to the U. S. Congress Tom gets turned a deaf ear The famous disappearing Constantine/Freeh memo to Clinton Clinton Administration works to oppose Tom's appointment as Oversight Commissioner Tom Takes on the Richest Man in the World "They shoot out their lips and laugh him to scorn." And then some! E Pluribus Unum Eirim chun a ghniomh a chriochnu -- I arise to complete his task. Terry Picks Up the Message  Questions? E-mail Us! CONSTANTINE'S CIRCUS, INC. PO Box 7223 Capitol Station Albany, NY 12224-0223 518-465-4413 518-465-3200 FAX |