A
few years ago, Terry and I decided to break from the path of a
trip we had made many times before to have lunch at a restaurant
we loved.
Well…
actually… truth be told, we had never been to this particular
restaurant before. That’s why we would be breaking from the normal
route of the journey. Instead, we had been to its sister location.
Often. But that restaurant closed during quite a fascinating set
of circumstances, and we knew there was a second place in another
state, and it just so happened that by thinking of it in advance
we had plenty of time to stop since restaurant number two wasn’t
hideously far off the intended roads.
So…
Mi Luv U was programmed to lead the way, and we prepared for a
lunch of hush puppies, crab balls, tasty hamburgers and other
treats.
One
of the greatest things about trusting your GPS… and I am not suggesting
to blindly go trusting a GPS and end up in the desert without
water, or turn off a road and into a river, or depart on any extended
journey into strange lands without a road atlas… is that often
it will take you on funny twists and turns you wouldn’t have selected.
My
Mi Luv U doesn’t seem to know that you can turn left near my house.
Of course you can. At the light there is even a left-turn-only
lane and a specific signal for the turn in the traffic pattern
of the stoplight. But Mi Luv U guides you straight instead of
turning, forcing this kind of funny u-turn extension of about
half-mile to a mile and three more lights. We laugh about it,
and never consider that she might be doing the same thing to us
in other places. As long as we get there… what’s an extra three
minutes between friends?
On
this particular trip, I had looked at a map and thought of the
path Mi Luv U would create.
She
didn’t.
Instead
she got me off of the highway much earlier than I expected, and
brought us along a scenic drive of back roads.
I
did check the atlas. Seemed like she was ok. Turned out… it was
fabulous.
At
least… it was until we were within about three miles of the restaurant.
I
saw the lights in my mirror and pulled over to the side of the
road. Terry asked me how fast I had been going. I wasn’t sure.
I knew it was around 35, but with the turn coming up soon, watching
for street names, and looking around at traffic and the town and
such, I hadn’t been watching the speedometer.
Now…
before we move along with this story, I want to point out how
much I respect police officers. (And this disclaimer isn’t an
attempt to look for special favors or considerations.) I just
think in many cases it can be a thankless job. Speed limit is
65 and the driver was doing 80… the light was red but no one was
coming… whatever the scenario, but in the end not only was the
driver breaking the law, the driver also was completely aware
of the law being broken… and amazingly, the driver gets four steps
beyond barking mad at the police officer for the ticket.
It’s
crazy.
Maybe
the driver believes there is a justifiable reason. I have yet
to be pulled over and be happy about it. I don’t believe the police
officer deserves to face an avalanche of criticism when, if we
are honestly evaluating the situation and saying the officer and/or
location the officer is operating within has no hidden motives.
So
to the police officer… thank you. I appreciate your hard work
and dedication. I’m grateful for your protection and assistance.
That
said…
Officer
Obie… I don’t have the real name and for all intents and purposes,
the legendary shoe fits… told me I was speeding. And friends Obie
was, because he dropped my speed on the ticket to five miles over
the limit and sent me on my way.
Thing
is… respect or no… I couldn’t get over Officer Obie.
Why?
Number
one, because the speed limit changed so fast. When I first turned
onto the road, the speed limit had been 45 miles an hour. I was
absolutely positive I had seen that sign. So when I told Terry
I thought I was around 35, I figured there was a better chance
that my bumper was dragging behind the car or that I hadn’t noticed
I hit a cow than there was of my being guilty at that moment of
speeding.
The
first sign I saw saying the speed limit had changed to 25 was
about a tenth of a mile down the road from the spot where my meet
and greet with Officer Obie was held. He actually pointed it out
to me when telling me the speed. Used it as a visual aid, with
circles and arrows and a paragraph on the back of the ticket.
“There’s one sign right there,” he said, and in the corner of
my memory I can still see him gesturing toward it. To have him
tell me I was way over the limit, and for him to point out the
sign and explain how he was doing me a favor… well, it just didn’t
ring true. (See above: “…if we are honestly evaluating the situation…
no hidden motives…”)
And
number two, because I had absolutely zero clue where the hell
he came from. I mean… I never saw him, and neither had Terry.
Both of us were watching the road and we were wide awake. New
sights… just moments from the restaurant… looking for street names
and parking and taking in all sorts of details… effectively hypersensitive
to everything. And never saw even a hint of Officer Obie and his
cruiser.
After
lunch, we fired up Mi Luv U, set our course for getting back on
the road to the main destination of our journey, and sure enough…
we were headed right back along the roads that brought us to the
restaurant.
This
time, since I was cruise-control-locked-in to 25, I had plenty
of time to look around.
And
after assembling all of the little details I missed or didn’t
register on the first drive along the scenic and beautiful road,
I came to an interesting conclusion. I think Officer Obie is sneaky
jerk.
Let’s
start with item two and where he was parked. We spotted him and
his cruiser on this return past the scene of the crime. He was
parked on the grass off to the side of the road, quite less than
a mile from where he stopped me. There was a group of six cars,
parked in two rows of three, on the front lawn of a home. There
were hedges around… those big ones that grow about three or four
or five feet high and just as wide. If you were driving the other
way along the road, the way I originally was when he stopped me,
what you might have seen was a couple of bushes and then the first
row of three side-by-side cars… two pick-ups and an SUV. What
you probably would not have seen was the police car parked in
row two, nestled between the two other cars in that row. It was
a magical game of hide and seek that we only discovered because
we were driving the other way and actually looking for him.
And
the speed limit? Yeah… well… that 25 miles per hour sign he directed
my attention to was the first 25 mph sign on the road. All of
the others in that direction before it had said 45. That includes
the one about 150-yards before his hide-and-go-seek location.
Amazing
coincidence how the completely unseen police officer comes into
your view exactly at a sign for a new speed limit. And when you’re
from out of state, it’s often not even worth the money to travel
and fight the ticket.
The
thing is, I didn’t come here to talk to you about that.
Not
specifically.
~ ~
~ ~ ~
At
the side of the highway is a big, yellow sign. And when I say
a big, yellow sign… I mean it’s you won’t miss it, really big.
(It just so happens to be yellow. And there is more than one.
But mainly… it’s big. Each one of them is big.)
I
start with that description because the reality is very simple:
this sign is not an accident… not a suggestion… and not a good
idea. There was no mistake in the measurements. There was no inside
joke in its creation or production. It is a sign that wants to
pass along an absolutely direct, do not even think for a second
that you will be able to challenge this in court, message.
And
that message is that the speed limit is about to change.
Drive
on the road long enough, and you’ll see the pattern several times.
You might enter a zone where the limit it 55 mph as you begin,
and then you’ll see them…
(Big yellow sign) Speed limit ahead 45 mph
(Big yellow sign) Speed limit ahead 35 mph
The
drop of twenty to thirty miles per hour can happen over just some
hundreds of feet. And you drive along (of course, at 35 mph) for
a little bit, only to find the signs start to increase again.
To 45. To 55. And the car feels right, and the pace is comfortable,
and then… well… probably to the amazement of none of you, the
area where I witnessed this phenomenon has been ranked as one
of the worst in the country for “speed traps” and even has managed
to become a discouraged use of travel for motorists by travel
organizations.
I
would imagine a courtroom nearby where a judge had repeatedly
heard some form of this phrase (my words): “Honest your honor,
it’s a major road and the speed limit had been 55 miles per hour,
and just a mile later was 55 miles per hour again, and there were
no intersections or businesses or changes in traffic patterns
indicating something might be different, and I didn’t see the
sign.” And, after hearing this repeatedly, day after day, over
and over, a meeting was held and the decision was made. Folks,
we need to put up a really huge friggin’ sign so no one can say
they didn’t see it.
And…
apparently… they did just that.
(Big yellow sign) Speed limit ahead 45 mph
(Big yellow sign) Speed limit ahead 35 mph
The
thing is, I didn’t come here to talk to you about that.
Not
specifically.
~ ~
~ ~ ~
This
time, I’ll be a bit more specific.
In
Ridgeland, South Carolina, there is a van that takes pictures
of speeding cars. It should be pointed out that Ridgeland
is not even close to being the only place in America using cameras
as part of enforcing violations and tickets for speeding. And
even if you didn’t know about speed cameras, I’m sure you are
aware of cameras patrolling intersections for red light violations
and such.
As
you would imagine, the idea of a camera catching a driving violation…
whether for speed or a red light or whatever… comes with a fairly
straightforward explanation. And the article I’ve linked to does
a decent enough job of explaining the positions of those in favor
of the van and those against it. And… if you would like more information,
well, just select the search engine of your choice and type away…
Ridgeland South Carolina speed camera van
Those
six words as a criteria are about as good a way of starting your
research as any other combination. Modify it or look long enough
and you’ll start reading about the other locations as well.
Inside
the article I’ve linked to is a sentence that I had never really
considered before about the subject of law enforcement cameras.
Now, understand, I had considered the idea I’m about to present
before this. I just hadn’t really given the same weight and significance
to the thought floating around in my mind.
In
reading this article I was coming across all sorts of interesting
arguments against the camera van…
- Tickets
aren’t issued strictly for speeding, but only when a certain
level of speeding has been crossed. Let’s say 10 mph over the
limit.
- People
speeding aren’t pulled over or stopped in any way. The fine
is sent by mail.
- A
private company is involved in running the service, and they
get paid in part by a share of the monies generated through
the fines.
All
of these issues and more are debates worth having. For me, that’s
especially true of the company getting a percentage of the monies
collected. But none of them really tipped the scale for me to
debating the potential justice and injustice of it all.
This
time though, all of them were there in the same article, and one
sentence connected when it read: “Police use driver’s license
photos or physical descriptions from licenses such as a driver’s
hair, eye color and weight to identify the motorist. No ticket
is issued if there is any question about the driver’s identity.”
So
if my wife is driving a car registered in my name, we all can
arrive at the likely safe conclusion that Ridgeland officials
can do the math. Same address on her license, my license, the
registration, the insurance, and it all adds up once you start
comparing the picture from the camera to the picture on her license.
I might not be driving, but they can figure it out.
However,
if I’m asleep in the back seat of the car and out of view, and
my best friend is driving the car and he doesn’t remotely resemble
me, then according to this the good folks of Ridgeland won’t send
the ticket.
The
thing is, I didn’t come here to talk to you about that.
Not
specifically.
~ ~
~ ~ ~
Do
with this article what you will.
Some
will argue that if people aren’t speeding, the roads are safer…
and even if the situation allows for the cars to safely operate
at faster speeds, it doesn’t matter because the slower speeds
mean safer driving.
Some
will argue in opposition about selective enforcement… actions
driven by revenue… flawed statistics.
There
aren’t two sides to the debate… the story… the situation. There
are fifty. (Or more.)
And
for every stand that speeds have been reduced, issued violations
have dropped, and insurance statistics show safer sections of
roads… well… there are stories
like this where e-mails are found outlining
the payrolls of staff manning the vans, how decisions were made
about where to locate the cameras, and hours of camera operation
being set up to maximize the number of tickets.
It’s
not a case of right and wrong.
And
you may recall from my earlier praise of the hard-working police
officers across the land… the belief is that the actions of the
officer are clear cut… are based on right and wrong.
~ ~
~ ~ ~
The
state of Texas is currently working on legislation that could
raise the speed limit in some locations to…
(Take
a deep breath. Get ready.)
…that
could raise the speed limit in some locations to 85
miles per hour.