The Big Show: Golden Girl
Golden
When I was a little girl, my dad would take me to the station house every single Bring Your Son/Daughter to Work Day. I'd get passed around from desk to desk, each detective telling me stories about the great things my dad had done in his career. I would listen with rapt attention, idolizing my father as a hero. As I got older, I started to realize how much my dad’s dedication to work was screwing up my family. It took awhile, but I figured out all those fights between my parents that I wasn’t supposed to hear had to do with The Job. The times I found my mother crying and she wouldn’t tell me why, that was The Job and Pop. I realized way before my mom left us that I was never going to measure up to The Job. I resented it and I resented my dad.
And somehow, I’ve ended up with a gold shield of my own. It’s a strange, isn’t it? I was bitter over my mom leaving and blamed my dad for years because he obviously loved The Job over us, over me. Then one day, they’re pressing a badge at me, calling me Lieutenant Murphy and I’m my dad. You know how much that realization pissed me off? I didn’t want to be my dad, but by the time I realized I was, it was too late. I lost my family, lost my daughter, and was stuck listening to a bunch of old timers talk about how little Connie Murphy was going to make her Pop proud.
Right, “make my Pop proud”. That’s harder than it sounds. My dad didn’t even come to my graduation, he didn’t call me on my birthday. My pop has never actually told me he’s proud of me, not once, not until Munzer. I am not my dad’s Golden Girl. I’m not anyone’s Golden Girl. Because my last name is Murphy, people expected me to follow in Pop’s considerable footprints, but what do I do instead? I hire a wizard, I keep hiring the guy and there are things in my reports I can’t explain. Maybe that’s my rebellious phase. I refuse to be the cop my dad was, even though I’ve lost a marriage to The Job and I’m dedicated to it. I’m going to be my own cop and nothing Pop can say will make me change that.
I know I make my dad out to be a bad guy, but he’s not. We’re working through this stuff in our own slightly screwed up way. It’s not perfect and it’s pretty slow going with him in Florida, but he really does care he just can’t show it. I won’t ever be his Golden Girl, but I’ll take the brass ring if I can get it.
When I was a little girl, my dad would take me to the station house every single Bring Your Son/Daughter to Work Day. I'd get passed around from desk to desk, each detective telling me stories about the great things my dad had done in his career. I would listen with rapt attention, idolizing my father as a hero. As I got older, I started to realize how much my dad’s dedication to work was screwing up my family. It took awhile, but I figured out all those fights between my parents that I wasn’t supposed to hear had to do with The Job. The times I found my mother crying and she wouldn’t tell me why, that was The Job and Pop. I realized way before my mom left us that I was never going to measure up to The Job. I resented it and I resented my dad.
And somehow, I’ve ended up with a gold shield of my own. It’s a strange, isn’t it? I was bitter over my mom leaving and blamed my dad for years because he obviously loved The Job over us, over me. Then one day, they’re pressing a badge at me, calling me Lieutenant Murphy and I’m my dad. You know how much that realization pissed me off? I didn’t want to be my dad, but by the time I realized I was, it was too late. I lost my family, lost my daughter, and was stuck listening to a bunch of old timers talk about how little Connie Murphy was going to make her Pop proud.
Right, “make my Pop proud”. That’s harder than it sounds. My dad didn’t even come to my graduation, he didn’t call me on my birthday. My pop has never actually told me he’s proud of me, not once, not until Munzer. I am not my dad’s Golden Girl. I’m not anyone’s Golden Girl. Because my last name is Murphy, people expected me to follow in Pop’s considerable footprints, but what do I do instead? I hire a wizard, I keep hiring the guy and there are things in my reports I can’t explain. Maybe that’s my rebellious phase. I refuse to be the cop my dad was, even though I’ve lost a marriage to The Job and I’m dedicated to it. I’m going to be my own cop and nothing Pop can say will make me change that.
I know I make my dad out to be a bad guy, but he’s not. We’re working through this stuff in our own slightly screwed up way. It’s not perfect and it’s pretty slow going with him in Florida, but he really does care he just can’t show it. I won’t ever be his Golden Girl, but I’ll take the brass ring if I can get it.