Celling Out

Admittedly, I'm not in the best of moods as I type this* so I may come off a bit pissier than I should. Despite that, I really do have a problem with California's new cellphone driving laws and I wanted to rant about'em right quick.

From what I understand, the law, which goes into effect today, July 1, 2008, has two main parts:
1) Driving while holding a mobile phone will result in a traffic ticket. Using a hands-free device (like a wired or Bluetooth headset) is a legal alternative.
2) Drivers under the age of eighteen are not allowed to use the phone while driving, at all - with or without a hands-free device.

I've got a big problem with both of these for reasons which I'd think would be obvious, but maybe not. One of the crafters of this law said that the same cellphone companies that tell their customers not to talk and drive also oppose this law. I don't think that's so hard to understand.

It's one thing to make a suggestion or even to warn someone, but it's quite another to make a law to limit their freedom to accept that suggestion. I've got a big problem with police pulling people over, ticketing them, fining them, or worse because they held a cellphone (without driving recklessly) instead of biting a cheeseburger, putting on make-up, or scolding their kids.

The cops say that they can also cite you for doing those things. Then, if you want, they can argue in court about it.

I'm annoyed by idiotic drivers on the regular, but I'd rather they be ticketed for doing something that results in an accident or accidental behavior - not because

It's estimated that this law will decrease the number of Californian traffic deaths or something by 300 - a 7% reduction. Yet I believe Schwarzenegger said it was the number one cause of traffic accidents. I caught most of this on the radio this morning, so feel free to correct me if I'm wrong. The point is that what I heard didn't seem to add up, although I guess I'd still have a problem with the situation even if it did.

I acknowledge, though, that it's hard to know when to make a law that restricts freedoms, but will probably help some people - even save lives. In this case, I'd love for the end-result to occur, but I do not want to be legislated to death.

And I really don't want the day to come when I'm pulled over because my phone alerted me that it was my Mom's birthday or something.









* - Among the reasons for this pissy mood is the fact that my lady's road bike was just stolen.

The Piss Scam

Our recent trip to Orlando was a last-minute decision. Money's tight.

So, when we were considering lodging, we were lookin' at the low end of the spectrum. I figured, if, upon inspection, they turned out to be "roach motels," we could just move on to the next place.

While checking out the first place on the list, in Kissimmee, Florida - just outside of Orlando's city limits - what started out as a pretty good day took a severe nosedive.

Let's see if I can keep this one short.

I asked the Indian manager(s) for and received a key to check out a room. My girlfriend is the one with the higher standards, so I just sit back and let her decide if the bathroom, for instance, is up to snuff. While waiting, I used the restroom.

Shortly thereafter, one of the managers showed up at the door. I told her the bathtub was dirty, so we weren't impressed. She claimed it wasn't dirt, just their (sad & sorry) attempts at renovation.

While in there, she realized I'd used the restroom (#1, btw) and developed the beginnings of a 'tude. When we said we didn't want the place because of the tub, that attitude blossomed into a full-blown case of "the ass."

She started yelling (yes, yelling), saying that we owe her ten dollars for using the restroom. She claimed this was the law, so I just informed her that this was news to me. She said, "Well, for the future, you will know that is the law."

Fine. As far as I was concerned, she didn't expect and I had no plans to give ten dollars for taking a piss. I hung around just to get her to calm down - just because it was important to me that this woman knew that weren't running a pissing scam.

When we got back to the front desk, her peers joined in, lecturing us at high volume and at great length. I told them that, as a grown man, I don't need to be lectured to and I don't appreciate being yelled at - especially when I'm going well out of my way to respond diplomatically and civilly.

I asked to speak to the manager who was much more calm. She said the other woman wasn't yelling - that that's just how she speaks. I called bullshit on that because the other woman was fairly civil at the door of the hotel room. She got loud when she got pissed.

Anyway, to keep this long story from getting longer, let me just say that I offered to get the room, if only to assure them that this wasn't a pissin' scam.

She refused - at first saying there were no vacancies (a lie for obvious reasons), then saying they just don't want customers who cause trouble (which we apparently had revealed ourselves to be).

Earlier they claimed they'd call the cops on us for refusing to pay the ten bucks. By the time we were getting ready to leave, they were walking by my vehicle, taking down my license number, and saying, "You'll see what happens, now."

So, I kinda felt trapped. I felt like, if this supposed law was real and I left, the cops would be lookin' for piss n run con artist. If I stayed, I was on their property after having had my business refused.

I resolved the matter by calling the cops, myself. They showed up about an hour later, informing us of the following:

1) There's no law that says I owe them $10.
2) There IS a law that states that, once I've given them money, if they decide that they want me to leave, I'm obligated to leave... but they are not obligated to return that money. My only recourse would've been small claims court.
3) And finally, that we, as out-of-towners were unaware that we were in a crime-ridden area of town. The officer advised that we drive several miles away to secure a room.

He advised the manager who was left (the women I'd spoken to had driven away) that I didn't owe them a dime and he wished us a good day.


After all was said and done, we were a bit frazzled by this bit of drama and inconvenience, but I convinced my girlfriend (who'd been very concerned that I might be mistreated by the police) that we'd come out ahead, overall.

1) We learned that we would've been dealing with some pain-in-the-ass proprietors if we'd gotten that room - a fact we could've found out an even harder way. Actually, while waiting on the cops, we heard a guest ask one of the managers for to come up there and turn on her heater. "Low rent."

2) We learned that we were in a bad area of town - a fact that eluded us in the bright light of that fine North Florida day.


3) And finally, we learned a bit about the law, our rights, and the rights of hotels and motels. If we should ever find ourselves in a similar situation, that knowledge would come in very handy.


After that, we drove down the road, checked into a nice lil hotel, then went to my favorite restaurant on the PLANET and had what's probably the best meal we'd ever eaten in life. More on that last part, later.

All-in-all, it was a wonderful day - despite a few dark clouds.

Hit It and Quit It

This was some holiday break. So much happened, it's hard to know where to begin. I guess I'll just start with something random.

Let's begin with "traffic."

My mother and I were on our way to my little cousin's birthday party when we saw emergency vehicles in the distance. Obviously, we don't wish anything bad on anyone else, but we were really hoping it wasn't a member of our family. As we approached, we noticed that none of the cars were familiar, so we breathed a sigh of relief. Until...

I saw my aunt's forehead. And my uncle's face. Some other family members.

Damn.


Apparently, this three-car accident was caused by a driver who ran three successive traffic lights, crashed into a second car, sending two people to the hospital, and causing the second car to hit my aunt and uncle's car.

One car received a face-lift and the other a full about-face. Scary.

Luckily, my family was fine. The car they'd just purchased two days earlier? Not so much.

Frig.

To top it all off, the offending vehicle's male driver and female passenger grabbed their baby, exited the vehicle, and hauled the requisite amount of ass.

They left so quickly that they forgot their mobile phone.

I don't know what the hell kinda illegal crap caused them to drive so recklessly or leave the scene of an accident, but I'm almost afraid to find out.

Last I heard, the cops were still combing the surrounding area. Meanwhile, my aunt and uncle have parked their now no-longer-road-worthy vehicle.

Happy Day After Thanksgiving.

In the Pool

I've been a registered voter for ... ever. As soon as I was old enough, I registered and voted. (Added incentive being the fact that there was a Presidential election the same year - Clinton, btw.)

Our legal system selects potential jurors from the pool of registered voters. From the Clinton footnote, I'm sure you're aware that I've been in that pool for quite some time. So long that my toes are wrinkled.

Despite all of that time, I have never been been selected as a potential juror. My girlfriend is a few years younger than I, so clearly she's not been "in the pool" for quite as long, but somehow she got picked for jury selection/jury duty.

She suffered through long, long hours, cold, cold rooms, and much, much frustration. I heard all about it - and even caught her cold (which she got because of the over-active air conditioner).

It felt strange that she went through all of this, yet I'd never even been selected for duty.

Fast-forward about a month and there I was with 150 other potential jurors:
How strange is that? Two people from the same household chosen for jury selection within a month of each other.

Anyway, my experience largely reflected hers except I wasn't held quite as long. I guess I understand why they'd have the air conditioning jacked-up, with so many bodies in an enclosed space, but within an hour or so, that place was an ice box. Luckily, I'd been warned, so I showed up with long-sleeved shirt, undershirt, leather jacket, and skull cap (gotta protect that bald head). Even with all that, I was still cold - especially my hands, feet, and face.

When my girlfriend went through this, she said the staff didn't respond well to complaints about the cold. It stayed cold. That pissed me off, so when it happened to me, I was feeding off that earlier pissivity when I griped so much that, not only did they turn the cold off, they turned the heat on.

I really appreciate a legal system that includes a "jury of our peers" and most of the staff members were incredibly kind and helpful, but I think it'd make a lot more sense if they were more respectful of the comfort concerns of the citizens who are more or less being held captive as reward for being registered voters.

That said, I learned a great deal about the value of our legal system and my own feelings about different aspects of it.

Have you ever been chosen for jury duty/selection? What was your experience like?

The Verdict is In

Have you heard of the case of Martin Lee Anderson?

I just heard about verdict and I just can't get the words of lawyer, Benjamin Crump, out of my head:

"You kill a dog, you go to jail. You kill a little black boy and nothing happens."

That's all I have to say about that, right now.

Environmental Racism

On an unrelated note, if you're not reading Liz's blog, here's a reason to start:

"The truth is, if blacks and Latinos get shot in Compton or Philly or DC, on a daily basis, we are not, for the most part, shocked and outraged. We are not calling for more gun control. We are not questioning why someone didn't notice a troubled kid earlier. Heck, I'll tell you what happens to troubled kids in low-income areas. They drop out or are pushed out of school by teachers that don't want to deal with them. And if that troubled kid gets shot, well, that's life in the hood, right? The unsaid message is that that kid brought it on themselves. You know, they were probably involved in drugs or gangs and that's the way it goes. If only they'd stayed in school...and worked harder than they did, right?"

Check out the most recent post to get the proper context.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In a recent post, entitled ' "To Serve and Protect"... and Profile ', I recounted a recent experience when I was on the receiving-end of racism from government officials - police officers, to be precise. I truly believe that I wouldn't have been pulled over had I been a gray-haired, old, white man, instead of a bald, younger, Black man. But, it's a long story, so I won't get into it, again, here.

Well, while catching up on my NPR podcasts, I came across the story of a Black woman who seems to have also been on the receiving-end of racism from government officials. The story began with the host explaining that her guest, Sheila Holt-Orsted, had suffered through ravaging effects of cancer, as it touched and claimed several members of her family.

I immediately began thinking about how doctors ask about a patient's family history while determining the patient's risk of cancer and other diseases. I imagined that "the cancer gene" was particularly powerful and prevalent in Ms. Holt-Orsted's family and how sad and scary that must be for her and her loved-ones.

As it turned out, the apparent prevailing factor in cancerous onslaught upon her family was actually the toxic dumping that took place about 56 feet* from her family's 100+ acre property. The guest believes that those toxins seeped into her family's well water - the same water they used for drinking, bathing, and cooking over 20 years or so.

According to the guest, her family continued to believe the water was safe because the government stepped in, tested the water, and told them it was safe, despite the fact that its toxicity level was five times the EPA limits. The guest and her lawyer went on to say that the white families in the area were told about the unsafe conditions as soon as the government found out about them - in some cases, in as little as 48 hours.

If I understood the story, certain laws make the EPA "unsuable." So, it seems Ms. Holt-Orsted can't sue the government, for what happened to her family, but she can sue what's left of the company that did the dumping. Unfortunately, it has been sold, divided, resold, etc. in the subsequent decades - not to mention having filed for bankruptcy.

Ms. Holt-Orsted realizes that no monetary award or settlement will bring her family back, but she's pursuing this action because she believes it is the right thing to do.

Sadly, she's been diagnosed with breast cancer.


The NPR "News and Notes" story can be found on their site: click here.






* - ...or maybe it was 56 yards, but either way... y'know?!

"To Serve and Protect"... and Profile

I've mentioned before that I drove to Maryland on business about three weeks, ago. The way it worked out, I decided to drive from Tallahassee to Georgia, take care of some medical issues over the course of a week, then continue to Maryland.

I drove to Maryland on a Wednesday, worked on Thursday, then drove back to Georgia on Friday.

In yesterday's post, I mentioned having been pulled over by the Carolina police, while I was on my way back to Georgia. Although I'd fallen behind schedule, I did a pretty good job of sticking with my "no speeding" policy.* Sadly, that didn't stop an officer on I-85 from pulling up behind me, then on left, then behind me, then on my right, then behind me, for about five or ten miles, then flashing his lights and pulling me over.

My offense? The little lights that illuminate the license plate weren't lit. Of course, the sun was still up, so I'm sure he had no problem reading my tag. It was just a convenient excuse to pull me over, since my headlights were on but the tag lights weren't. My tail lights were fine, by the way.

Anyway, he pulls me over, walks up to my vehicle, and sticks his head in the passenger side window asking me about where I'm from and where I'm going. He asks where I work, suggesting that I work on or with computers, since I had two laptops in the front seat. Then, of course, I felt the need to justify my presence on the highway and explain why I own so many computers... because, by then, I already felt like a criminal, despite having done nothing illegal.

The vehicle registration had been held up but I presented my license and proof of insurance, so he seemed satisfied that the vehicle wasn't stolen or whatever.

He then asked if I'd step out of the vehicle and follow him to the back. As I did, I noticed there were two or three additional police vehicles lined up behind me. He showed me that my tag lights weren't on and then handed me a written warning which required no action on my part.

I thought that was the end of it and I could continue on my journey, but then he said, "Well, unfortunately, you're on a route that's known for transporting drugs between D.C. and Atlanta. We would like your permission to search your vehicle."

Now, this is a request, which suggests that I am free to decline. However, there are a bunch of people around me with badges, guns, and the authority to make my life very inconvenient, so, from my perspective, it was a request, punctuated with a threat. So, I consented.

If I had it to do over, again, I would have declined, because that decision affected my travel time and my health. Instead, I submitted to the request to search my vehicle and my person, raising my arms and being pat-down in front of scores of drivers - a Black man looking like a suspect from the tv show, COPS. After all, I figured, I was in South Carolina so I probably wouldn't have THAT much further to drive.

"Do you have any weapons in the vehicle?"
"No."

"Any illegal drugs or large amounts of cash?"
"I'm about the squarest guy you could've pulled over. I've got a ton of Benadryl in there, a buck in my pocket, and a buck in my wallet. So, no."**


As the sun set, I stood outside of my vehicle next to I-85, wearing a tank top and sporting a wicked cough that was getting worse, by the second. The winds and cooling temperatures made my existing cough so bad that ever time I tried to speak, I coughed about a dozen or so times.

The Black cop they assigned to stand by me while they searched every nook and cranny of my vehicle, luggage, and other possessions, asked me about my life - where I lived, where I worked, my allergies, etc. I don't know if he was trying to be kind or milk me for information, but, against the darkening sky and bright headlights of the police cruisers, his grinning silhouette was like something out of a minstrel act. His questions were friendly in a situation where I felt I had no friends. It's like he was somehow meant to be relatable but came off as somewhat offensive.

Reacting to my horrible coughing fits, the Black cop asked if I wanted to have a seat. Thinking he was talking about my vehicle, I declined, saying that I didn't want to impede or appear to be trying to impede progress. I wanted to do whatever would make this situation come to an end as quickly as possible.

After more questions from the officer and more coughing from me, he asked, again. "Are you sure you don't want to have a seat?"

"Well, I might have to take you up on that offer, this time," I said. After all, that cough wasn't getting any better out there on that cool, windy interstate.

I looked at the officer, though, and noticed that he'd turned toward his cruiser. "Oh, you're talking about getting in the back of the police car," I asked with a frown on my face. "No thanks."

That pissed me off because it was like an invitation from the spider to the fly. Hell, they pulled me over acting like my light problem was something substantive, when really it wasn't.*** They just wanted to get me in their clutches. He acted like he was just showing me the unilluminated area, when he was really preparing to search my vehicle. Who knows what would've happened once I was in the back of the police car.

And, besides all that, I'll be damned if I wanted to be made to feel any more like a criminal by being seated in the part of the police car you can't open the doors from the inside. I've been in that situation, before, when someone was searching the truck I owned during my freshmen year in college. They weren't in any rush to let me back out, even when it'd been established that I hadn't stolen that vehicle, either!

Finally, they finished and, trying to view this as one of the inconveniences that law-abiding citizens have to suffer, sometimes, in order to keep us all safe, I responded with humor. "Pretty boring, huh?"

"Nah. It's kinda interesting seeing stuff from people's lives."

Maybe he meant nothing by it, but something about that answer combined with the lack of contrition on his part that left a bad taste in my mouth. Maybe this is how they get through an unpleasant job, but it felt like a violation of my privacy. The fact that they found nothing wrong and didn't bother to apologize for the inconvenience didn't help.

I called my loved-ones to let them know that and why I'd be even later, then I pulled back onto what was now a very dark road. I'd guess that the whole episode took about an hour.

Not long after that, I realized that I wasn't in South Carolina, yet. I hadn't made it out of North Carolina and, ultimately, I wouldn't make it home until about 1am, the next morning.

After the shitty directions I got for leaving Maryland, getting lost and taking forever to find my way back, then getting pulled over by these "servers and protectors" and continuing on my journey, I spent about 20 hours on the road.

When I finally got to my parents' exit, in Georgia, I stopped at a local Wal-Mart for some drugs because what I thought were allergy symptoms were really the effects of a "bug" I caught from the people at the Maryland office, during a training I never wanted to go to. I only agreed because of a combination of pressure from management plus the potential to make it work out in my favor - the opportunity to gain access to more in-network medical providers, for instance.

I spent the next week sick as a dog with a temperature that got as high as 102.x. After the first couple of days, I saw a doctor who said that I probably caught it from my Maryland co-workers and then exascerbated the sickness and symptoms by standing on the side of the freeway while my vehicle was searched.

THE END

I welcome your questions, comments, and criticism.








* - It's both a safety concern and a financial one. Damned if I'm trying to give up two or three hundred dollars to my local county or PODUNK County, USA.
** - It was true. I only had about $15 on me when I went through the toll area I'd been told about by the co-workers who gave me directions to avoid D.C. traffic on my way out of Maryland. They failed to mention, though, that the toll was at least twelve dollars.
*** - Of course, this is assuming that one of the cops didn't unscrew the lights, himself.