The Click It Or Ticket Nanny State Blues

Now I know better, I really do, so I had no ready excuse when the Oh Shit lights of the California Highway Patrol lit up my rear view mirror. I was not wearing an over-the-shoulder seat belt. In fact, I wasn’t wearing any seat belt at all when I made a left turn around a Highway Patrol car waiting at a traffic light. Less than a minute later I was stopped on a side street, hands on the steering wheel and driver’s side window rolled down when Buford Pusser approached my car.

“Something wrong with your seat belt?” he asked in a concerned, motherly way.

Oh no, not at all, why do you ask? I didn’t say. I just shook my head.

“License, registration and proof of insurance, please.”

Highway Patrol cops are always courteous. Even the late Hunter S. Thompson said so. “No matter what they do to you, they’re polite about it,” he wrote in Hell’s Angels - A Strange And Terrible Saga.

That is, they are polite as long as you pass what’s known as The Attitude Test. Indignant protests of innocence and threats to “have your badge” will not get you a passing grade. Neither will whining, groveling and offers to show your tits, even if you have tits worth showing, which I don’t. Best to just keep quiet and mentally wear beige.

It also helps to look at the situation from the cop’s point of view. He or she may have just come from the scene of a horrific accident with eyeballs, teeth and swatches of bloody hair among the twisted metal all over the pavement. This particular cop did not look like a rookie, so he’d probably seen a lot of such accident scenes in the course of his career -- and would probably see more.

Besides, the California taxpayers are keeping him in doughnuts to do exactly what he was doing, which was writing me a ticket for breaking California’s mandatory seat belt law. It even has a catchy slogan prominently displayed on freeway billboards: Click It Or Ticket.

The cop took my license, registration and insurance card back to his car so he could radio the dispatcher and find out if I was a wanted felon or maybe a misdemeanor wiseass with a history of unpaid traffic tickets. Nope.

He returned, noting that I had a commercial license with a passenger endorsement. “What do you drive?”

Limousines, I said, silently telling myself the chances of future employment in that career field had just been reduced to zero. Limo companies and their insurers take a dim view of traffic tickets among the ranks.

“Well, this won’t add any points to your record, “ he said.

Swell, but limo companies are not so tolerant. But that’s okay. I haven’t had a limo gig in months and do not anticipate looking for one. I’ll probably donate my tuxedo drags to Goodwill and find something else to so. Anyway, most limousine work is at night and my night vision is fading fast.

I was not alone in being a seatbelt scofflaw. No less than Governor Jerry Brown was stopped and ticketed for not wearing a seatbelt some years back when he was between political jobs. “California is the nanny state,” he grumbled at the time.

The cop showed me where to sign the ticket, gave me my copy, and that was that. He closed his ticket book and I was very grateful for one thing:

He did not say “Have a nice day.”

Comments?

Mike...I was just at the store today when I realized that I was deliberately NOT wearing a seatbelt, and it was PROBABLY because I looked gorgeous today, and had we been stopped, I would have had someone to talk to. So sorry your experience was not deliberate, and that you had to get the damned fine...is it REALLY so bad that you won't be able to drive limos anymore...uh..is it okay for you to RIDE in em without seatbelts? Your favorite scofflaw and fan -- Amanda

I quit driving limos months ago when I realized how badly my night vision had deteriorated, and I don’t really miss that vocation, and yes, stretch limos are equipped with seat belts for passengers, but in my experience, they are seldom used. I also drove vans dedicated to carrying airline crews. Surprisingly, airline crews never fasten their seat belts in crew vans during runs to and from the airport, even though that short road trip is statistically the most dangerous part of their working day. Only one time in 10 years did a crew fasten their seat belts in my van, and only then at my request. It was after a near miss on the way to the airport on a day that turned out very eventful indeed: 9/11/2001. -- MB
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Sorry about your ticket, Toots. I'm so damn short that my seat belt cuts me right across the carotid...I HATE the stupid thing, but my grand kids absolutely panic if I "forget" to use it. -- Cyn
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Well bummer...but a good article none the less. -- Mary Pat
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I had done Palm-Desert to Scottsdale in about 4 hours, while I had been told it would take a bit more than five. So I had decided the return trip wouldn't last more than 3 and a half. And I was just in my schedule when...

It was night, and in my small hired Japanese car, I was doing 110 behind a huge American thing that was speeding like crazy. When a car with more lights than a Xmas tree got between me and him, I thought the poor sucker had been caught. Then I noticed the other Xmas tree flashing its lights behind me. I didn't know what the appropriate attitude is in these circumstances.

In France (where I hardly ever get arrested), I get out of the car and talk to the cops, eyes in the eyes. Equal to equal. So, I lifted my hands high, showing they were empty, then slowly got out of the car.

"Get back to your car, or you'll be dead in 30 seconds!".a metallic voice said.

Minutes later, asked if he had really intended to shoot me, he laughed and explained my life expectancy was less than a minute on the side of an American motorway. He kindly offered to minimize my speed to "close to 90", to spare me major problems and a visit to court.

I produced all sorts of papers with different addresses. A 1969 driving licence with the address of the time; an ID with a 1982 address, and even a Floridia driving license with a 1992 address.
He sighed..."Were are we supposed to mail the ticket?"

I told him to decide by himself, and added that French postmen would be smart enough to deliver it no matter the address.

And guess what? They did! -- Gerard

So much for the rumors about French inefficiency. -- Zur alors! -- MB
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Loved it Mr. Mike. Take care guy! -- Kate
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Ah Geeeezzzzz..... do they have senior discounts on these? -- Lynda

No. The fine for a first offense in California is $142 regardless of age, race, creed or national origin. It’s a truly equal opportunity fine. -- MB
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OOOPS -- Karen S.
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Ahhh loved it. Juli
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I have received in my driving career three tickets - one for going 32 in a 25, one for going 52 in a 35, and one for not having insurance - stopped for a light out and found only an expired insurance card, later proved I had current insurance and the ticket was torn up. I have been stopped twice besides that, both for speeding. Once he just told me he would verbally warn me, and to lighten my foot on the accelerator. The other time the officer walked up to my car, noticed the Arabic tattoo on my wrist and asked me what it meant. I said "It means 'Guardian angel that watches over a woman'". He said..."Hm. I guess one is watching over you today. Just slow down."  Nicely written article as always, and enjoyed by me, always. -- Zoey
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Here in New Hampshire they actually allow adults over 18 think for themselves regarding seat belts. Of course we were never exposed to the drift from Hiroshima and Nagasaki and have retained the ability to think for ourselves, something I have always suspected Californians lost along the way. -- Ig Bear

Envy is a terrible thing.  -- MB
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The Unabashed Birthday Blog Of Your Sometime Correspondent

Sunday is my birthday, two years shy of my allotted three-score-and-ten. So, in case you’re thinking of giving me a present, I’m registered with Quik-Stop, 7-11 and K-Mart. Not only that, but already Publishers Clearinghouse assures me that I may already be winner! Imagine!

I’m surprised I’ve lasted this long, considering my diet. I mean, until recently my Four Basic Food Groups consisted of alcohol, nicotine, caffeine and Cheetos. I’ve eliminated alcohol with the encouragement of a superior court judge and some professional scolds in the health care field. The latter want to publish my chest x-rays in the pulmonary trade press as a find-the-funeral-wreath puzzle embedded in a picture.

I’ve also substituted Ruffles potato chips for Cheetos. Ruffles don’t get that sticky orange stuff on my fingers and whatever else I touch, like some kind of junk food Midas. As for coffee, I now cut the caffeinated stuff in half with decaffeinated, which is tantamount to a pot smoker adding oregano to his or her stash, but I sleep a little better. Still, I will not give up coffee entirely until my bean grinder is removed from the my cold dead hands by a mortician with a buzz saw.

As for the nicotine, well, I don’t want to get too pure all of a sudden. That way lies a future of annoying zealotry and maybe even street corner evangelism after I’ve exasperated my friends into shunning me because of my smoke free smugness.

Come to think of it, most of my friends don’t smoke at all, the sissies. In fact, tobacco smokers have become latter day lepers. I’m surprised the obnoxiously health obsessed do-gooding meddlers of the anti-tobacco lobby haven’t bullied lawmakers into mandating that surviving smokers wear black shrouds in public and clang handbells while shouting “Unclean! Unclean!”

Thank goodness the tobacco lobby has more clout with our esteemed legislators than the grim Naderites and fresh air fiends who banish smokers out-of-doors in the nastiest of weather, perhaps hoping that a bolt of righteous lightning will incinerate us into ashtray-sized cinders.

Anwyay, after age sixty birthdays become unwelcome reminders of “Time’s wingéd chariot hurrying near,” as Andrew Marvell wrote in the Seventeenth Century when he was trying to get in the knickers of his coy mistress, hoping he would do so before he croaked from old age. But Marvell did not die from old age, unless 57 was considered old at the time. If frustration didn't get him, maybe tobacco did. No word on what became of the coy mistress. Perhaps she went to her final reward with her knees clamped firmly together in prim determination. Bet she was a non-smoker too.

Two people my age I know have birthdays within five days of mine. There was a third, but she died from lung cancer at age 35 (“Remembering Edie,” T-Times, March 4, 2012). Lung cancer nailed three other friends in the past few years as well.

Maybe I should learn to take hints?

Naaah.
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Any Comments, Critiques or Anonymous Hate Mail?

Happy Birthday and all that. Not wanting to call attention to your aging and all, but just wanted to say that I'm glad you've survived another trip around the sun. Hope you had a good day! -- RJ
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I would send you my heart if it would fit in a prepaid box with stamps included, and someone took care of the bill. Happy birthday DEAR MAN, and terrific writer that you are! That was hilarious. Keep sending these Tomatoman Times things to us. -- Amanda
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I sent a donation in your name to the American Lung Association, in honor of your B-day. Happy Birthday to you Mike. -- Holly
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Unfortunately (4 u; 4 me? fortunately!) I can't think of one. Still, u enjoy -- Leon
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Mike, you are your OWN gift...I hope you recognize that. I love how you show the authentic you in your writing...that's what makes it so attractive. May you live long on the vine, get some rest in the compost and then come back again as a lovely little yellow flower! Forever. -- Love from Diane and RJ

With my karma, I’ll probably come back as a skunk cabbage. -- MB
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Your turn, Mike! Happy birthday and many happy returns! Be wholesome, be happy, keep on writing, dearest fellow Aries.. -- Galen

Galen is my senior by one day. -- MB
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Happy birthday. I will be 70 in October. I share you enjoyment in writing. -- Ken
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Happy birthday, Mike, from a fellow Aries! -- Ann C
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Interesting, I was told that we came from cabbage patches. Now I find out that the Easter Bunny delivered you (in a pretty, woven basket, no doubt). I have no discretionary income at this time which would enable me to send you a birthday gift; however, I expect to shortly receive notice from a bank VP in Burkina Vaso that I have many millions in US dollars left to me by my fifth cousin twice removed who died in a spectacular plane crash several years ago. I shall be happy to forward you a few dollars at that time. -- HM

That’s okay. I’m sure Publishers Clearninghouse will come through. Several Nigerian bankers have also e-mailed me with attractive offers, but thanks anyway -- MB
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From Abby McLoughlin, age 6: [re: Abby And Her Locks Of Love, T-Times, March 30]

Dear Mr. Mike,

My mommy says your birthday is tomorrow. Mine is April the 10th So Happy Birthday to you! I had a birthday party at gymnastics yesterday. It was fun and I had an alligator cake!  Mommy says that your lungs are sick and it is very hard for you to breathe okay. Please don't smoke cigarettes anymore. They will make you more sicker.  If you try really, really hard to stop I will save a cupcake for you and we can eat it at lunch at Panda-era's. 4, 2, 1 (this is our secret code meaning: Forever 2 hearts, 1 love).

Love,
Abby or Abigail whatever you like to call me.

Dear Abby or Abigail (your name, your choice),

That is the nicest birthday greeting I have ever received. Your offer of a cupcake in exchange for my quitting smoking is more than a fair trade. As far as I know cupcakes are healthier than cigarettes and taste better, too. I'm not sure about an alligator cake, though.

421,
Mike
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Now, who could refuse an offer like that? You should try, really, really
hard to quit. After all, a cupcake is at stake, along with a lunch at Panda-ears. -- Shannon
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Happy Day! Mine's on the 16th...you buy yourself something for $10 and I'll do the same and we'll celebrate "together" ... very funny post, BTW -- Cyn
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And I just send you a carton of cigarettes! Damn. I didn't think you'd stopped. Well, Happy Birthday from one of the last smokers in the world. -- Beaty
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Wow, I don't know anybody as old as you <WEG>. Have a happy birthday. You point out all the foibles of the over-culture and yet you live on....just goes to show they don't know everything! -- Mary Pat
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I remembered in late March and said: do NOT forget to sent greetings. Then I forgot. Happy Birthday, yungin' -- and so far 68 is OK back here. -- Tim
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Ordinarily I'd say you really would rather I didn't...even before reading the post...burt since it's you, I figure you're game for anything, and that just creates a challenge for me, so no. But happy birthday! ...but I did have Cheetos for lunch. That's celebratory, right?  -- Shag 

Certainly! -- MB
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I have realms of free advice. Just pick a subject. I am 62 -- Doc

Thanks, Junior. -- MB
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Good job Mike: Which 7-11? -- Lowell & Diane

Whichever one accepts promissary notes. -- MB
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Damn those wingéd chariots anyway! -- Sum
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Happy Birthday Mike!! -- Soy
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Wonderful and HAPPY BIRTHDAY! !!! -- Julisari
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 Happy Birthday, you ol' grouch! Hope you have a great day! -- Shan
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Happy Birthday! -- Kan
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Sure. I'll send you a present if you send me some money first. Funny article. Happy Birthday/Easter! -- Anneg

That was present a-plenty, thank you. -- MB
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No! You never sent me anything for my birthday a few weeks ago! So there!!! BTW, Happy Birthday -- BP

I didn’t you know it was your birthday! Good heavens! I’ll forward my Publishers Clearinghouse packet right away! -- MB