I’m not a blog writer. Never have been and probably never will again. I‘m writing this just to prove I can.  Just once. So forgive the grammar and concentrate on the content, letting  me dip into the occasional lapse of verbal diarrhoea. I need to explain myself.

I’m a fairly recent convert to twitter, following on from the London march in May, when I decided to check out what all the fuss was about. For this reason, I’m still fairly behind the groove and playing catch up with twitter blogging heroes such as Nightjack, Gadget, Chaos, The Custody Sergeant and the inimitable James Patrick, to name but a few. As well as the old hash tags and conversations occasionally still mooted and mentioned from the past.

Twitter is a strange beast. It can make you feel like you’re part of a bigger family, or equally alone and discarded without thought.

It can be a welcoming beacon of light in the darkness for the lost, or a blazing heat ray of destruction for the naive or foolish.

It is a hotchpotch soup of characters, views, news and comments, from the factual bloggers to the more investigative and critical ones.  The political and the apolitical.

It encourages opinions and debate with open arms, yet can be equally cruel and heartless in its butchery of the those who fall by the wayside. It funnels your mind, yet ironically broadens it at the same time.

It can be the ultimate leveller.

It is not for the feint-hearted.

I envy the word-smithing and insight of the current bloggers. I wish I had their time, energy, creativeness and courage.

When I tweet I rely mostly on small sound-bites and re-tweets from those cleverer and more informed than I.

Humour is what I like best.  Debate with laughter incorporated, “carry-on” style.

I am sometimes passionate, sometimes worried. I have been provocative and learned from my mistakes.

My dad was a Bobby too and if you know either Beazer snr, or jnr, then you would know we are the archetypal small town beat cops. We are police for the public. We were and are small cogs in the larger machine of society. The grease on the wheels so to speak.

We are simple folk with simple, uncomplicated ways.  Integral parts of our communities in all sorts of ways. Local cops for local people #leagueofgentlemen

I, like my old dad before, am unashamedly unambitious.  Even though I have an Honours degree in Accountancy I do not seek promotion or “further challenge”.  I am geographically immobile. I like it where I am.

I am therefore, probably best described as the “journeyman bobby”.

I am trustworthy and loyal, like the family Labrador. I won’t light up the sky, but I will try to stop it falling down on you. I will stand guard and faithfully try to protect and defend you from those who would do harm to you, or your property. There are times when I’m probably not “value for money”, but there are others, when I’m worth my weight in gold.

I know your name and the names of your friends and relatives. I am the one who puts his hand on your shoulder at the end of the night and tells you it is time to go home. I am part of your lives.

I am still a staunch advocate of “Peels Principles”.  The mantra of the Police for the last 180 years.  Timeless in their simplicity and forsight.

So why has this meek, simple soul taken to tweeting, when it both scares and attracts me at the same time?

It’s because I’m passionate about Policing as a vocational career. It should be a calling. A job for life.

Ultimately I am dismayed with the thoughtless, cavalier way Politicians are treating the Great British Police Service, that I, and my dad have served for 53 years between us and sworn an oath for.

I am furious at the way the public has been deceived into accepting police reforms dreamed up by shadowy, unelected mandarins in anonymous suits, reflecting self-interested political dogma.

The direct lobbying of Politicians by these Think Tanks, Unions and Corporations is a crime. It is called Political Corruption. It is the usurping of democracy by the few, without the consent of the many.

This is the root of police reform. It is a vile canker. And it’s happening across the Public Sector, sneakily under the noses of the unaware, innocent public.

I have never been political, but now worry about the potential politics has for me, both as a career and in respect of the ever present discipline regulations which are forcing Officers into a “Catch 22” situation. We face enormous changes without being able to challenge or voice concern. That is to me, in my opinion, a clear breach of my Human Rights.

I hope I show no fear or favour to any political party, yet know that I am becoming, by definition, political.  And not by choice.

I want to influence and inform the public and show them that what this and other Governments are doing is wrong and undemocratic. I am worried at the apathy and ignorance of these reforms by my colleagues and the general public.

How can I not voice my concern at the thought of being made redundant, after over 20 years, at the mere whimsy of a senior officer budgeting incorrectly?

And why should I be outcast if I get injured on duty, protecting you and your families?

Where are my protections and rights?

Policing was never, nor should be, about targets or politics. It should be about people. About keeping them safe and in order sensibly, with as little fuss as possible.

Parts of the reform will instigate privatisation of the police. This will inherently destroy the independent “Office of Constable” that I hold dear. It will shape and mould it into a fragmented army of indifferent, clock-watching, private security guards aged between 20 and 30, who are white and male. The altruism of the vocational bobby will disappear. Policing will be lost and Peel left spinning in his grave. Sensible, grounded, intuitive people of all social classes and religions will be replaced by a herd of short-term, target driven robots.

Even though the entrance qualification will rise, entrants will eventually fall due to the poor financial status of starting salaries and pensions. Forces will become surely become desperate and standards will, inevitably fall.

Some might have said Police pensions were too high. I disagree vehemently. I sacrificed a much better paid job in the accountancy world for my chosen vacation. It was a trade-off for me. Having a good pension at a time of life when I’d still be young enough to enjoy it after years of sacrificed weekends (and ultimately a marriage) and physically demanding  shift-work for a length of time more than most other employments, private, or public sector. We need attractive salaries and pensions to attract the best.

Life is also undeniably more complicated. I do want to work hard and smart. I am not averse to change, even in my middle-years, but I have seen “wheel re-invention” spun out to a fine art by some Senior Police Officers on their upward climbs to retirement and thealmost inevitable cushy number in the private sector. I actually do embrace some of the sensible suggestions in Winsor 2, like fitness tests. As long as they are work and age related.

The police have been subjected to a tirade of abuse and misrepresentation by some newspapers and the media. We have been let down and belittled by those in power and our supposed Police Leaders in ACPO.  It is political and it is unfair. We need to fight back and show our mettle.

For these reasons, I follow the “antiwinsor” hash tag, even though that has become “sensitive” now. I enjoyed it mainly because it garnered support and gave us a point of reference for related topics. I also enjoyed it because Nick Herbert did not. Enough said.

I love the #slapslapconstabularly led by the old boy himself, @sirianblair #holdtheline

I love the #noconfidenceintheresamay because it genuinely reflects my own opinion of a person who has managed to gain a serious criminal conviction, whilst in post as Home Secretary.  It represents the hypocrisy which pervades her every word now as she oversees the elections of the flagship Police and Crime Commissioners.  (Who, incidentally can’t have even done so much as drop litter as a child, or tresspassed on a railway line.)

I miss the #slapslap s dealt out by the Guv, who sadly paid the price of his convictions, as did @iofiv

I love the gruff banter of DrinkyMceyeball, the swatting of Flyscarpet.

The lure of boobs, NurseDebs, KatieMagnet and Chesty.

The rudeness of Colin Tourettes.

The emotions of Princess Veep.

The calm re-assurance of Julieanne, Mhairi ,and Cate Moore.

The hard working Fedreps.  #Holdtheline feller’s and felleresses.

The thoughts and views of Bosco, Kennyplod, steelriverboy , Cavecanem, Nathan Constable, Alan47, Stevebatchelder, DIRayCarling, Dustybin  amongst a whole host of others I haven’t mentioned but love dearly.

Those who, day in, day out spread the word.  Spread the hash tags.

Together we win, divided we fail.

I hope this explains me.

And I hope you realise now that this is why I tweet.

And why I love the hash tag #PFTP


#Mindhowyougo  #warmout