The Ryan Report: Ryan on keeping secrets

By Detective Kevin Ryan Oct 17, 2012

Do you ever watch popcorn pop in the microwave? Okay, probably not, I assume you all have lives, so you don’t sit around watching your popcorn pop. And as you might know, I don’t have a microwave, because of that whole salt pig fiasco. But you know what I’m talking about. The bag starts small, then slowly but surely it builds until it looks like the bag is going to burst at the seams. Well, that is just about how the inside of my head feels right now. I stumbled onto a pretty juicy secret recently, but I know I can’t tell anyone and it is killing me.

To illustrate, let me give you a little sample of what my inner monologue sounds like right now: Why do I have to keep this secret? There shouldn’t even be secrets. In a perfect world we wouldn’t need them. Because you know who keeps secrets? Criminals keep secrets. People who have something to hide keep secrets. If you think about it, my job as a cop is the opposite of keeping secrets. I uncover them. So keeping secrets goes against my very nature. I shouldn’t have to go against my nature, should I?!?

See what I mean? Popcorn bag.

Truthfully I know there are perfectly legitimate reasons to keep secrets. Do I tell Javi how much I love The Sound of Music? Hell no. I’d never hear the end of it. Do I tell Jenny everytime I get shot at? Of course not, it would just worry her (Honey, if you’re reading this, I’m joking, I never get shot at). We don’t just use secrets to protect ourselves, we use them to protect others as well. Of course, I suppose, what I was saying about a perfect world still stands. In a perfect world there wouldn’t be anything to protect people from. And in a perfect world we’d have unicorns. And they could fly! Why don’t we have flying unicorns?!? 

Man, there goes that popcorn bag again. 

When it comes down to it, I’m not going to tell anyone. As much as I hate keeping secrets, I’m pretty darn good at it. In middle school my best friend told me he practiced french kissing on a pig, and to this day I haven’t told a soul. Well, until now, I guess. But this doesn’t count, it’s been twenty years and there is a statute of limitations on keeping secrets. Really, in a perfect world we wouldn’t even…

Okay, I’m going to stop or my head really will explode.