Making an involuntary donation to the state of California

Even though we are just two, The Wife and I have three cars. As much as we have tried, it has been proven to be physically impossible for two people to drive three cars simultaneously. One of our cars is frequently neglected…and its battery dies. That being said, I’m a man’s man–or at least manly enough to jumpstart a car battery.

The thing about a dead battery–in most cases–it can be resurrected. A car battery is like any rechargeable battery. If it goes long enough without being charged it will drain; however, if you start the car and drive around for a half hour the battery will recharge. I’m not saying anything here most guys don’t already know: this lesson in automotive electronics is for the women (and maybe my youngest brother).

I went through this ritual on over the weekend. Car battery died. Jumpstarted it. Needed to drive around for a half hour. The Wife and I opted to go to the library because it provides cheap entertainment. I had been driving for about 20 minutes when I was five minutes away from the library. Wanting to stretch my drive an additional five minutes, I made a couple extraneous turns to lengthen my journey.

I was driving down a street I have driven down many times before. In my youth, my friends and use to like to fly down the street going 80 miles per hour because the road was extremely uneven and it felt like you were riding on a rollercoaster (a couple times I would have even sworn we were airborne). But that was in my youth (that and the street was repaved about five years ago). Perhaps I should have omitted that fact based on what I’m about to tell you.

I was stopped at a light. A motorcycle cop had a car pulled over after the intersection in front of me, so I wasn’t too alarmed to see another motorcycle cop behind me. “He’s probably going to back up his buddy,” I speculated. The red and blue lights were a little discerning, but The Wife put me at ease.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Indeed I hadn’t. I’m not much of a speeder–generally going at the flow of traffic. Sure, I rarely come to a halt at stop signs I deem worthless (empty intersections), but I don’t run red lights, frequently use my turn signal, and never zip much of anywhere. In fact, my inability to run a yellow light is view as a bit of a flaw by The Wife. The way I see it, yellow means the light is gonna change soon. If I have plenty of time to stop for a yellow light, I will–because I don’t want to chance running a red light. And it’s not because I fear getting a ticket: I just hate those assholes who run red lights.

When the light changed I started to go forward and the cop behind me used his air horn thingy. There was no doubt he wasn’t there to help his buddy; he want me to pull over. The Wife and I quickly speculated on what he wanted. Tags were valid. Car wasn’t stolen. Mistaken identity was a possibility, but white males usually aren’t prime suspects in crime.

“Sorry officer,” I said as he came up to the window. “I didn’t realize you wanted me to pull over. I thought you were helping your buddy.”

“No, it’s you” he said with the smug, no-nonsense demeanor that cops use. I find it quite annoying. There’s no reason we couldn’t be civil to each other. Then again, he’s the one who risks getting shot every time he lights someone up (however, not usually from white males–can you tell I’m in favor of racial profiling?). He said he got me on radar going 51–a number I hardly deemed pulling people over for. “Do you know what the speed limit is?”

Open road. No houses or residentials, or business to speak of. The sole purpose of this road was to connect two main roads. “Forty-five,” I guess.

Unfortunately, the correct answer was 35. I probably should have known that because you’d hafta be a real jerkwad to roll someone for going six miles over the speed limit, but I wasn’t on my toes. It’s not like I get pulled over often (being a white male and all).

I doubt it would have made a difference. While he was writing the ticket, it was easy for me to figure out what was going on. The aforementioned motorcycle cop issuing a citation to the other car was all the evidence I needed. Today was a ticket crackdown day. The police department decided to set up shop on that particular street and nail everyone (or at least those going more than 16 miles per hour) for speeding. It didn’t matter who came down that street or why: tickets would be issued to anyone who went faster than the speed limit.

I have a few problems with that concept. If someone speeds up to and runs past a red light, they made the conscious decision to disobey the law. To me, that’s reckless and ticket worthy. For police to station a pair of motorcycle cops that bust anyone who goes over the speed limit borders on entrapment. While the cop was writing me a ticket, a car could have easily cruised past us going 52 and A) the cop wouldn’tve noticed B) that person got away with it. Even though it might be a crackdown, it’s a random enforcement. Driver’s intent or actually danger to society is a non-factor.

It’s a well-known fact the government in California is facing a major financial crisis. The state already extorted us for more fees, raised our taxes, and is pretty much trying to get California citizens to pay for the mess it created. Cities also have similar financial problems: what better way to boost a towns coffer than set up a speed trap on street with a ridiculously low speed limit?

I’m not gonna be one of those people who says “the cop was out to get me.” Clearly it wasn’t anything personal and he was just doing his job. I’m not one to blame the cops or make excuses for getting a ticket. Last time I went to traffic school I remember being the only guilty person in the room. But this whole situation reeks. If the purpose of a ticket is a deterrent, this is clearly a fail: I will still continue to travel at the flow of traffic down that street. If its purpose to make sure I become a better drive, it’s futile. I believe I’m a fair driver. I got in one accident when I was 21. I haven’t receiving a moving violation since 1998. As I said before, I don’t speed and never run red lights. I’m already a safe driver, so getting a ticket won’t make me a better driver. So if the ticket isn’t going to discourage me from breaking the law or make me a better driver, what purpose does it serve?

To alleviate some of the budget deficit?

I’m not angry. I’m not upset. I’m just really, really annoyed. Such a pointless, stupid ticket for driving down a road I didn’t even need to go on. I can’t think of a better way to describe it than being a major annoyance.