Still Breakin' the Law

So last week I got pulled over and received a ticket for the first time in my life, right? Well, you'll never guess what happened Saturday. That's right, I got pulled over again, this time on base. Thankfully I didn't get a ticket.

Picture: Lexington Park, Saturday morning. Ramya needed to do a 13-miler for her marathon training, so I dropped her off on base (the 13 mile loop there is awesome), then came back to hang out with Eric. About an hour later Ramya called back and said she's coughing too much to finish the run (we're both still fighting the lingering illness) so I grabbed my keys and darted out to the car in my pajamas to go pick her up.

Okay, it will be much easier if you refer to this map while I tell this part of the story. I had picked Ramya up, and we were driving Southwest on Cedar Point Road. The road was one lane at this point, and there was a car directly behind us as we approached the intersection with Millstone Rd (marker #1 on the map). Ahead of us, another car that was traveling Southeast on Millstone made a right onto Cedar Point into the right lane of the now two-lane road. So after we go through the intersection, we are in the left lane with a car behind us, and there is another car ahead of us in the right lane. Still with me?

I notice that the car ahead in the right lane is going about the speed I want to go, plus I need to make a right turn later anyway, so I signal and merge right somewhere near marker #2. As soon as I'm over, the guy who was behind me zooms right by. So, as we're traveling between markers #2 and #3, there are three cars on the road: us in the right lane, a car ahead of us in the right lane that I'm basically pacing, and a car ahead of us in the left lane that has just passed us.

A cop was waiting at the intersection of Keane and Cedar Point (Marker #3 a.k.a. the drill hall exit) as we passed. He turns on his flashers and pulls me over, while Ramya and I engage in various expressions of disbelief. At this point I realize that I don't have my driver's license.

Now, this time I got the "standard" pullover chit chat. The cop walks up and we have this exchange (all quotes approximate, as I was freaking out thinking I was going to base jail):

Cop: "How are you doing today?"
Me: "Good I am so sorry sir I don't have my license but here's my two base ID's and my registration and if you want to follow me home I can get my wallet and show you my license."
Cop: "Okay...I clocked you doing 50 in a 35. Where are you going in such a hurry?"
Me: "We're heading home right now. She [indicating Ramya] is training for a marathon, so I dropped her off this morning to do a long run on base, but she called and said she was too sick to finish so I just grabbed my keys and ran out to get her."
[Please note that I am in pajama pants and a t-shirt, and Ramya is dressed in running clothes and currently having a massive coughing fit, as if on cue. I feel this lends legitimacy to our story.]
Cop: "Okay, but be careful. 15 over is $120 ticket."
Me: "I know [immediately wishing I didn't say that]"
Cop: "Go ahead and get her home, but slow down."
Me: "[gratuitously] Thank you so much sir!"

So that was that. After going 29 years without incident, I had been pulled over twice in four days. Except this time I had a nice, interactive stop, and got away with a warning. But still, this stop didn't add up, and I'm not even going to mention the fact that traffic always moves at about 50. How is it that there was a car ahead of me going the same speed and a car that just passed me, and I'm the one he pulls over? I was definitely the second fastest, if not the slowest of the three cars that passed him at roughly the same time. I almost wonder if the radar gun clocked the passing car and he just thought it was me. Of course, wouldn't he have noticed that I just got passed regardless? Maybe he was looking the other way at that point. It just didn't make sense. But to be fair, I was speeding. I am now going to keep it at a maximum of 5 mph over the speed limit.

Speaking of which, I have driven through the intersection where I got my ticket several times, and traffic is almost always moving at somewhere between 55 and 60. But, as I have a new found respect for absolute speed limits, I've been keeping it at 50. And do you know what? Not only do all the other cars go flying past me, but I get stopped at every traffic light. Normally, the lights are synchronized so that you just cruise right on through. But apparently if you drop below 55, you hit all the reds. Let me rephrase this: I got a ticket for going the speed at which the street is programmed to be traveled. The people who set up the lights timed them based on traffic moving between 55 and 60 mph. This is all very St. Marys county.

Also, I was at physical therapy last Thursday (for my knee- I should post about that sometime) and several of the other patients and nurses were talking about the sudden increase in cops on the roads. I chimed in with my anecdote about getting the first ticket of my life, and they all agreed that they know several people who have been pulled over recently, most for going the speed they usually go. So I guess I'm just another statistic in an effort to get the drivers in the county to slow down. Ironic, because I am widely regarded as a "slow driver" within my friends and family.

I will now drive up to DC with the cruise set at 60 mph.

The MLS Cup

I had another fun weekend, this time on account of the fact that Ramya came down to the LP and Eric was in town for business, so he was able to stop by as well. We played Simpsons Clue (Ramya won 2 games, Eric 1), Trivial Pursuit '90s Edition (Eric won, but I had all my pie pieces), Skip-Bo (I crushed them)- oh yeah, we painted the town red. Saturday they even helped me get my Christmas lights up. It went much faster with three people- we did it the same way I do it every year. At one point after Ramya wound the lighted garland around the columns she said "Oops, one of them is going a different way than the other two. Is that going to bother you?" I responded "Have we met?" and she was kind enough to redo it. Please note that I will not be turning them on until after Thanksgiving.

But the real event was today when we traveled up to DC for the Major League Soccer Championship game. Eric is quite the soccer fan, and his hometown Houston Dynamo were playing for their second straight title against the New England Revolution. I don't follow soccer, and I've never seen an MLS game live or on TV, but I figured that since American Soccer's Superbowl was happening right up the road, why not check it out? The fact that I've had it with Boston sports/fans in general and this gave me a chance to root against them just sweetened the deal (you'll never guess who owns the Revolution). And would you believe that there were a ton of tickets available, even at the last minute?Like I said, I don't know soccer. I'm a (American) football guy. So I found the biggest difference to be that the game was so constant and flowing- there was no start of play, end of play. It was just guys kicking the ball around for 45 minutes at a time. In turn, there was no announcer giving play by play. Although anything they did say over the PA was given in English, then Spanish. Grr.

The stadium seemed to be less than half full, with about half of those in attendance wearing the colors of the hometown DC United. The ground level did have rabid fans of each team, who spent the entire contest waving flags, pounding drums, leading cheers, and otherwise emulating their European counterparts. I noticed that whenever Houston had a corner-kick down by the New England fan section, a hailstorm of streamers, garbage, water bottles etc pelted the field to distract the player. The refs didn't seem to do anything about it, so I figured that maybe this was common in soccer. But it didn't go the other way- the Houston fans left the players alone. I take this to mean that New England fans are jerks in any sport.

If there was one downfall in the outing, it was our trip to the concessions stand. Now, I've been in some slow moving lines before, but this was the worst. We left before halftime to get some food, and not only did it take the entire 30 minutes (although Ramya held our place in line while I ducked out to watch Jimmy Eat World perform) but we were still standing there long enough into the second half to miss both Houston goals and the headbutt. Maaaan! Still, it was a fun time and it was just perfect that Eric happened to be in town to see the game.

On our way back to the Metro we learned that Eric hasn't been to DC since 8th grade, so we decided to hit some monuments. We did the standard Washington-Lincoln-Vietnam walk, but then Eric really wanted to see the Korean War Memorial, so we trekked over there. I had never seen it before, and in lieu of names it has several portraits etched into marble walls. In passing we noticed this guy:Look like anyone you know? Seriously, that soldier looks like a young me with a smaller mouth and bigger eyes. It was slightly eerie.

So this weekend Ramya and I are off to New York to meet Carly and Daniel for Thanksgiving with their friends Sean and Jenny. After that, it looks like Eric might be back in town, so this time we're going to do a for real Smithsonian trip. Have a great Thanksgiving!

Breakin' the Law

We got home from Vegas late last night (Carly & Daniel to Connecticut, Ramya to DC, me to SoMD), where we had an excellent vacation. That's a story for another night, because I have a much shorter, and much more annoying tale to share with you now.

Our flight landed at BWI at 10:15 last night, so by the time we got our bags, got to the car, dropped Ramya off in DC, and drove another 90 minutes it was right about 1:15 am as I entered greater Lexington Park. On the highway I had the cruise set to 65 (as I always do) and I passed a few drivers, and was passed a few times, but by and large I was the only car on the road for most of the trip. As the RT 235 changed from highway to main street, I cancelled the cruise control and and slowed up, even though there was not another car in sight and all the lights were green.

Then, I passed a car sitting in a turn lane with it's lights off. Figuring it was a cop, I looked at my speedometer, saw I was going right about 60, and figured "Oh good, if it was a cop I'm fine." The speed limit at the time was 45, but that's a total joke. I think we all know where this is going.

When the cop pulled me over he informed me that I was going 64 in a 45, collected my license and registration, and promptly wrote me a my very first ticket without exchanging more than about 20 words. He wrote me up for doing 54 in a 45, earning me an $80 traffic citation. Here are my thoughts:

I was not going 64. As soon as I saw the cop, I looked at my speedometer, and I was going 60. Possibly my gauges are off, possibly the radar gun is off (you hear about how inaccurate they are all the time) but to my knowledge, I was speeding, but not that much.

I can't contest the ticket. He wrote me up for going 54, which I was doing. I'm still going to go to court and see about doing one of those donations or community service things to avoid getting the points. Since I've been driving 13 years with a moving violation, it probably wouldn't be a problem, but this is more of a pride thing.

That's how fast people drive. I drove through that intersection twice today in the middle of rush hour. I was in a massive pack of bumper to bumper cars, and we were going a little over 60, both times. Yes it's speeding- but why will you get a ticket at night all alone for doing something that everyone does in broad daylight surrounded by other cars? It doesn't seem consistent.

I never understood why people hated cops for getting pulled over. I always thought "Just don't speed, moron." Now I'm like "Oh come on! That cop was a jerk!" Argh. More details as they develop!

Update: I have a few unfinished thoughts here- last night I just finished this a quick as possible so I could go back to laying on the couch because I felt terrible. Someone in our Vegas troop picked up some sort of head/chest cold and sharing a hotel room ensured that we all got it. Luckily, it didn't get bad until we were on our way home. Anyway, I forgot to mention a few things:

I know the cop did me a favor by writing the ticket for 54 instead of 64 (even though I was going 60). It's less fine and less points, and for his benefit it increases the odds that I'll just pay it. So, I guess I should thank my lucky stars for that.

But also, the speed of the whole thing surprised me. On TV the cop is always like "Do you know how fast you were going?" or "Where are you off to tonight in such a hurry?" In real life there was no small talk. It was like boom! Ticket. Not that I had a story prepared, but still. I thought maybe a few seconds of chit-chat would convince him that I was an upstanding citizen who just needed a warning.

Although, I have been pulled over before. In high school I went to see Jurassic Park 2 with friends, then afterward we went to Steak and Shake (as we so frequently did). On the road they had set up one of those random pull over things, in which they waved most cars right through but signaled for a handful to pull over for some screening. The lady with the airport light-up batons started to wave me through, but caught herself. She narrowed her eyes, and waved me over to the checkpoint with a fairly accusatory gesture. When I got there, another cop asked me a series of questions that it's going to sound like I'm making up, but this is how it went:

Cop: "How are you doing tonight?"
Me: "Good thank you, how are you?"
Cop: "Good. Been doing any drinking tonight?"
Me: "No sir."
Cop: "Where are you headed?"
Me: "To Steak and Shake."
Cop: "And where are you coming from?"
Me: "We just saw a movie at Linway."
Cop: "What movie?"
Me: "Jurassic Park 2."
Cop: "Okay. Been doing any drinking tonight?"
Me: "[slight pause] No sir."
Cop: "So where are you off to now?"
Me: "Um, Steak and Shake."
Cop: "And where are you coming from?
Me: "The movie theatre. We saw Jurassic Park 2."
Cop: "Oh, how was that?"
Me: "Not as good as the first one, but it had some decent action scenes."
Cop: "And where are you going now?"
Me: "...Steak and Shake."
Cop: "And have you been doing any drinking tonight?"
Me: "No."
Cop: "Okay. You're free to go."

There must be something in the random pull-over handbook that says you have to ask every question three times, otherwise he really wasn't paying attention. Ironically, he's the one who sounded drunk during the exchange. It was annoying, but overall much better than actually getting pulled over and getting a ticket.

Halloween, Part 2

We had a good amount of kids last night- probably not as many as last year overall, but only 4 or 5 that were sans costume. Plus, manners seemed to be making a comeback, with most kids remembering to say "Trick or Treat" and "Thank you." Of course, there was the obligatory handful of trick-or-treaters that were old enough to drive, but what are you going to do? At least none of them were smoking this year.

I do have a ton of candy left over, but at least it's the stuff I like (gum and Skittles). Speaking of which, one of my favorite kids was a little boy that got a handful which included Dots, which I always used as one of those "filler" candies- you know, the core of Halloween being Reese's peanut butter cups and various fun size candy bars, but you round it out with Tootsie rolls and jawbreakers. Well, this kid was like "Sweet! DOTS! Allright!" As he walked away we were like "man, if he likes them that much we should have given him some more."

Oh, and Ramya and I passed the time by playing DS against each other between bouts of kids. We paused it as a group walked up and one kid said "Hey, cool, they're playing DS!" After he got his candy he asked "What game are you guys playing?" I said "Clubhouse Games- right now we're playing Rummy." His faced instantly changed as he said "Oh..." and walked away looking disappointed. Ramya was like "Aw, now he thinks we're old! You should've lied and said something cool."

But the most memorable kid of the night was an adorable little girl who was wearing a bright flowery, I don't know, peasant dress? She also had on beads, a bandanna in her hair and was carrying a doll wrapped in blankets. I asked "And what are you, a Gypsy?" She said with a smile "No, I'm a Mexican girl." Wow. I think that says alot more about the parents who approved the costume than it does about the girl wearing it.

The irony award goes to a Dad who was dressed in ratty overalls, a Nascar t-shirt and a mullet wig. "Wig" being the operative word, because that's the only thing that let us know it was a costume, because let's face it: that's what half the parents were dressed like to start with.

I hope everyone had a happy Halloween, and now we can start looking forward to Thanksgiving. As a side note, XM is now playing Christmas music. Mannhiem Steamroller, here I come!