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12.28.2003 - 1:09 p.m.
Sunday
We were barreling down I-5
on Tuesday evening, a little south of Portland, when JB swore
suddenly. "Shit," he said, staring in the rearview
mirror. "That was a cop." Sure enough, we had flown
right by a state trooper, who immediately swung in behind us
and flashed his lights.
JB pulled over, and we sat
in silence for a moment while the trooper slowly walked up to
my window, where he aimed a flashlight around the interior of
the truck before fixing his gaze on JB.
"The first thing I'm going
to ask you is whether or not you are in some kind of medical
emergency."
We are fucked, I thought.
JB dutifully shook his head
no, and the cop went on. "I pulled you over for a couple
of reasons. First, you were going way over the speed limit. Second,
you were driving with your auxiliary lights on. You want to tell
me why you were driving with your auxiliary lights on?"
"You mean my fog lights?"
JB asked, confused. "Just to help me see the road better."
The cop leaned in a little,
and I shrank back against my seat. "Why don't you just drive
with your brights on then?" he growled. "Drive with
your brights on and blind everyone?" JB opened his
mouth but the cop cut him off. "Driving with your auxiliary
lights on is ILLEGAL," he said, in a tone that clearly communicated
the unspoken word "asshole".
"Now," the trooper
continued. "You want to guess how fast you were going?"
JB said something about how he didn't know he was speeding, and
the cop barked "Well, you were FLYING BY EVERYONE ON THE
ROAD! That might have been your FIRST CLUE!"
We are profoundly fucked, I thought.
The cop collected JB's license
and insurance info, and stomped back to his car to run the data.
JB and I passed the time pleasantly by staring straight ahead
at the windshield and not blinking. When the cop returned, he
looked even more pissed off. "Mr. JB," he said, "do
you have your Oregon license with you?"
JB, illegally, keeps an active
Oregon driver's license so he can shirk paying out of state hunting
fees.
We are really fucking CORNHOLED, I thought.
"Um," JB said casually,
then the trooper proceeded to rip into him. He went on and on
about how you can't have TWO active driver's licenses and it
was a FIVE HUNDRED DOLLAR FINE and the whole time I was sadly
waving my holiday bonus goodbye.
When he was finished with the
business of the Oregon license, the trooper pointed a finger
at JB. "I'm going to tell you what happens when there's
a guy like you speeding on this highway," he said. "You're
going too fast in the left lane. Well, there's cars merging onto
the right lane all along this road. As vehicles pull into the
left to let these cars in, you're going to have someone pull
in front of you. You're speeding, so you can't slow down in time,
and you hit them. Your vehicles are going to spin sideways, and
cars will pile into you from behind. There's going to be fatalities.
We come in to clean up the mess, and traffic is completely blocked
for two or three hours. There you go, you've caused deaths, injuries,
and you've RUINED PEOPLES' HOLIDAYS."
There was a pause, and I simultaneously
envisioned both this horrible accident scenario and also the
dollar amount on what was apparently going to be the world's
most humongous ticket.
"But," the cop said.
"I'm going to do something I don't often do." JB and
I stared. No way. "I'm going to give you a warning."
And he smiled.
No fucking way.
He did chastise JB for the
license thing and said he would check on that in a month and
JB darn well better have taken care of it. He also lectured us
that Keizer was coming up and the speed limit was 55, which he
was positive we would be doing. Then JB and I were driving
off, attending much more vigilantly to cruise control, talking
excitedly about how we couldn't believe he let us off like that,
and pointing out all the assholes who drive with their auxiliary
lights on.
It was, no shit, a Christmas
miracle.
:::
Can I just say I got some great
loot this year? Lynda Barry books, Preacher comic books, a beautiful handcrafted
jewelry box, a subscription to Us magazine (shut up), Berkeley
Breathed's "Flawed Dogs", fancy new silky underwear, and other assorted goodies.
My mom also gave me a writer's
guide to editors/publishers/literary agents, which made me get
all shmoopy, and was a way more thoughtful gift than any
of the presents I gave her (one of which was a potato ricer,
for crying out loud).
:::
Photo time!
Back in '99, the bulk
cargo vessel New Carissa grounded off of Coos Bay. It's pretty
awesome to go out to the beach and check it out.
Also: do not FUCK with
the New Carissa. Seriously.
This is Shore Acres
park in Coos Bay. It's beautiful at any time, but especially
magnificent when the waves are high.
Also: do not FUCK with
Shore Acres. Kersploosh!
Same park, all lit up for the holidays.
JB and his brother
Joe.
Me and JB. My jacket is very, very yellow.
This is Face Rock in
Bandon, named for it resembling a disembodied head.
The Oregon coast? Gorgeous,
but fucking WINDY AS HELL.
:::
Random: I'm planning on plunking
down a large vat of cash for a new digital camera. Any of you
have any advice? I want something that can function more similarly
to a SLR, with manual focus and so on.
:::
Last things last: a Martha-y
holiday tip from me to thee!
(Cue Queer Eye soundtrack)
Instead of throwing away all
of the holiday cards you receive, or storing them in some box
you never open again, why not cut out the cool front parts? Then
you can use them again next year as gift tags!
All things just keep getting
better!
go
back :::
forward
20
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004
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