Everyday when I retreat back to my cave, sometime around 7pm; I club myself a goat and park in front of my favorite invention, the TV. Once I’ve settled in my enormous chair of twigs and rocks, I pick up my remote and dial into my new favorite escape: The First 48.
For those of you who have yet to be overtaken by the mysteries of The First 48, the show follows teams of detectives all over the country during the first 48 hours of a murder investigation. It’s a statistically proven point that if a significant lead is not uncovered during those first couple hours, the murder case generally goes unsolved. Which sucks, especially when it’s on TV. So you REALLY want these guys to solve the case for two reasons 1) catch the bad guy, get a killer off the street and 2) avoid feeling like a supermodel just blew in your ear, grabbed your junk and walked away. LET’S GET EM!
The show is so real it’s scary, for real. It makes ‘The Bachelor’ cry for it’s mommy. We are blessed with unprecedented access to what happens once a murder is reported. We’re taken through forensics, search, interrogation and (fingers crossed) conviction. Picture ‘Cops’ but without the DUI’s, wife-beaters and 70 year old prostitutes. Plus there’s an ending (usually) and you get to see the real work that goes on inside the police station. All from the comfort of your own home. Or cave.
On The First 48 it’s homicide-time, all the time. These camera men have no problem getting up close and personal with a dead body, something I will probably never understand and the detectives have more charisma then any cast member on ‘Big Brother 97’. It’s real action and real emotions. I heart it.
Some of these detectives are the real deal. Straight out of a mythical world of awesome crime-solvers, these live-action cartoons put thugs in jail for fun. Equipped with top hats and cell phones from the ’90s, these sleuth’s solve crimes the old fashioned way, on the streets. My favorite person on the show is the glorious diva immortalized above: Sergeant Caroline Mason of the Memphis Police Department. She’s my boo boo and she loves making criminals cry. Her high-heels are modern day spurs and beneath her fur coat she’s got a glock and a six pack. Before she goes out to collect her bad boys she curls her hair at her desk. She’s superwoman. However you haven’t seen shit until you’ve seen her interrogate a 29 year old gang-banger. She’ll be your best friend, your mother and your reaper all within a span of 5 minutes. She turns grown-ass men into poodles. It’s an artform. She’s the Picasso of Mind Fuck. If she looked me in the eyes long enough I would just start confessing to crimes in shear terror that she was going to claw me with her 6 inch finger nails.
For real though, ya’lls should watch The First 48. It’s the realest reality show out there and it’s as compelling as it gets. If you can watch five minutes and still change the channel then you’re missing something. I’ve got a whole new appreciation for the men and women of law enforcement. I’m not crazy about the ones who hand out jay-walking tickets, but the ones who use real problem solving to catch criminals are sweet in my book. So give it a shot because we KNOW we all need better programming. And most importantly it’s Sasquatch approved.