[DeTomaso] Pandora's Perils part IX: "Your sins will find you out." Ain't that the truth...

[Christopher Kimball]

He claimed I was going 95--the key word is "claimed."


> From: mbefthomas at comcast.net
> To: chrisvkimball at msn.com; detomaso at realbig.com
> Subject: RE: [DeTomaso] Pandora's Perils part IX: "Your sins will find you out." Ain't that the truth...
> Date: Tue, 1 May 2012 05:56:59 -0700
> 
> Chris, it says right on your registration "Permanent", but I doubt at this
> point that it would have made any difference, nor would a radar detector.
> What you needed was a idiot detector . . .
> 
> Two words: Jeannie Mucklestone.  She and her brother focus on traffic
> infractions in Pierce and King counties, but I'm sure they could give you
> some assistance with this one.
> 
> By the way, from the "enquiring minds want to know" department, what speed
> did he write you up for?  That's the real trophy.
> 
> Mike Thomas 
> 
> -----Original Message-----
> From: detomaso-bounces at realbig.com [mailto:detomaso-bounces at realbig.com] On
> Behalf Of Christopher Kimball
> Sent: Monday, April 30, 2012 11:12 PM
> To: Pantera List Serve
> Subject: [DeTomaso] Pandora's Perils part IX: "Your sins will find you out."
> Ain't that the truth...
> 
> 
> In yesterday's entry, I made mention of a quote my mother likes to use,
> "Your sins will find you out."  I was chastised by the two most important
> women in my life (my wife and my mom) for failing to mention the quote is
> actually from the book of Numbers, in the Bible.  Of course, I knew that,
> but the last thing I wanted to do was start quoting Bible versus and have
> people get the idea I have a "holier-than-thou" attitude.  Well, if anyone
> ever had that misconception, I have now done my best to eliminate that
> problem:  Today, my sins, indeed, found me out.
> 
> For the first time while driving my Pantera, I GOT A TICKET!!!  I can't tell
> you all of the details yet, because according to officer Grumpy (not his
> real name) the form I signed today was not an admission of guilt.  That's
> good, because there is at least one accusation that is patently false.
> Granted, I was making very good time on the roads prior to my alleged
> transgression, so I can't complain too much, but let me explain a portion of
> what happened, since I love to write so many details!
> 
> But first, let me start at the beginning.
> 
> I awoke this morning in a good mood after a good sleep--no migraines to be
> found anywhere.  I enjoyed the complimentary breakfast at the same Las Vegas
> Comfort Inn at which I stayed on the way to the Rally, however, this time I
> had a waffle that was so enormous, when I had finished consuming it along
> with the scrambled egg (actually, it was a kind of flying-saucer scrambled
> egg; just one, round disc of egg--aliens probably would really like those),
> a yogurt, a glass of apple juice, and three glasses of milk (to go with the
> enormous waffle), I was forced to forego the Froot Loops.  I should have
> known that was a foreboding sign.
> 
> I left the hotel about 11:20 AM and headed toward Ely, Nevada.  I planned to
> stop there for lunch, but it was too far to make in one trip so I stopped at
> another, rather nondescript spot to fill up the tank.  While there I
> received several favorable comments about Pandora, which is always fun,
> including one young man's desire to take a couple of pictures.  I asked if
> he would like to have me take a picture of him in the car. He happily
> agreed, and handed me what looked like a combination game
> controller/portable TV/phone/Star Trek communicator.  Oh, I forgot to
> mention "camera."  he showed me which button to push, and the pictures
> turned out well.  I had a momentary flashback of achieving the high score at
> Donkey Kong sometime in the mid-eighties.
> 
> When I arrived at Ely (pronounce "eelee," although I didn't see any evidence
> of an aquarium), I drove through a couple of the neighborhoods to get a feel
> for the place.  It's kind of a quaint little town, and proud of its
> heritage.  I took a picture of the big sign posted at the entrance of the
> city so I could remember just what, exactly, was that heritage.    
> 
> I filled up at a local Shell station while explaining to several people what
> a "Pantera" is, and from whence it came.  One lady thought it was a
> Lamborghini.  Another kid asked if it cost $200,000.00.  I replied to him
> that it depends if you include the cost of moving violations (alleged,
> moving violations at this point).  Even the 70-something-year-old attendant
> took a break from ringing up pop and potato chips to come outside and
> inquire about it.  Everyone seemed so friendly, I thought I'd stay for
> lunch.  I drove to the city park and did just what the name suggests, found
> a picnic table, and settled down to read the latest issue of Road & Track
> while munching on two blueberry muffins, two yogurts (those items I pilfered
> from the complimentary breakfast that morning--hey, I didn't get to eat my
> Froot Loops, so it's a break-even for the hotel chain), a bottle of some
> exotic mix of fruit juices (have you noticed that the big thing now is for
> companies to blend multiple juices together and offer the end result as some
> new, never-before-considered beverage?  "Hey Martha, look--they took the
> apple juice and mixed it with the cranberry juice!  Can you believe it?
> Genius!  What do you think they'll call it?"), several chocolate digestive
> biscuits (for those of you who may not be English biscuit aficionados,
> "Digestive Biscuits" are not some sort of medically-prescribed heartburn
> remedy.  They are cookies with chocolate on the top and are delicious), and
> of course--wait; I'm going to make you guess.  What do you think I would be
> drinking with chocolate-covered biscuits?  If you guessed milk--you're
> correct.  Unfortunately, I had no cups with me, so I had no choice but to
> drink right from the carton.  Since I was the only person in the park,
> though, it really didn't matter. Come to think of it, I believe I was the
> only person in about a ten-block radius.
> 
> Following lunch I hit the road.  And here's where things went terribly
> wrong.
> 
> At first, I was enjoying long, straight roads with no traffic.  You can
> guess how I was enjoying them.  I was always careful to slow way down when
> any other traffic was extant, since if there's one, overriding theme in the
> Pantera Owners Club of America, it's safety...  
> 
> About 60 miles outside of Twin Falls, Idaho, I called Clarke and Wilma to
> see if they had arrived at the hotel yet (they had).  I used the hands-free
> speaker phone built into my GPS system, for safety reasons, of course (plus
> the fact that the stupid thing connects to my phone automatically, and I
> don't know how to override it, even if I wanted to).  The hands-free system
> works pretty well, as long as you can decipher "Hey Clrk, Ime llkjhjs efoiu
> ertppisw conbpe erlo ejtopj OK?"  Actually, it wasn't that bad, and I told
> Clarke I'd be there in 45 minutes, unless (note; here comes the
> foreshadowing), "I get pulled over (yuk yuk)"
> 
> Five minutes later...well I think you know what happened.
> 
> It was a smooth, curvy road (that sounds like that old campfire story, "It
> was a dark and stormy night...") and there was this car in front of me that
> I thought would appreciate not having me bringing up the rear, so to speak.
> Next thing you know, an innocent-looking SUV appears out of nowhere coming
> the other way, and I couldn't help but notice that his turn signals weren't
> the usual orange, but instead blue and red.  And they were all blinking at
> the same time.
> As I mentioned, I won't go into detail about the alleged infraction, only to
> say the officer claimed to have issues with what he thought I did.  The
> whole situation probably could have been less financially painful, but
> here's the problem, when he asked for my license and registration, I gave
> him the required documents.  He seemed fairly reasonable at that point.
> However, after spending a few minutes in his portable pokey (as I tried not
> to think about all the gloating going on by the drivers of all the cars I
> had passed who were now driving past me as I sat, humiliated by the side of
> the road--that's actually worse than getting the ticket, you know), he
> approached me full of bluster and indignation.  I think I also detected a
> hint of pensiveness.  The reason for his hyperventilation was that according
> to his "official" records, "[my] car hasn't been registered since 2007!!!!"
> I tried to explain to him that in Washington State, collector car plates are
> exempt from annual registration and tags.  He didn't believe me.  In fact,
> with a mix of bravado and nervousness (after all, for all he knew, I could
> be a convicted criminal!) he asked me to get out of the car and look at my
> license plate.  He asked, "Do you see a place on that plate for tags?"  What
> I should have said was, "No, officer oblivious, I can't see anything--in
> fact, I'm legally blind!"  Instead, I simply said, "Yes, but I never
> received tags for this car because it is a collector vehicle..."  He would
> have none of it.  He told me that this wasn't Washington (thanks again,
> officer--maybe I should have started clicking my heels together and
> chanting, "There's no place like home...") and that I'd have to take it up
> with the court.
> 
> I then remembered all those cops and robber shows I watched as a kid, and it
> reminded me that the accused always got to make a phone call.  Realizing
> this guy was nowhere near old enough to remember great shows such as "The
> Streets of San Fransico," I almost abandoned the idea of asking him if I
> could call one of my friends at the Lakewood Police Department, but then it
> occurred to me that he probably had watched "Who Wants to be a Millionaire?"
> once or twice.  "May I phone a friend?" I asked.  I told him I could get
> verification of the tag question from one of my connections with the
> Lakewood PD.  He told me I could call anyone I wanted, but it wouldn't make
> any difference.
> 
> I have a tremendous amount of respect for officers of the law.  Except this
> one--he is an idiot.  While he was back in his paddy wagon filling out all
> the devilish paperwork, I phoned the same person I always call when I'm in
> some sort of self-imposed trouble; my wife.  Since I was trying to use the
> ridiculous hands-free device while talking a mile-a-minute (I'm surprised
> officer dorky didn't give me a ticket for that, too), Vicki had great
> difficulty figuring out what was going on.  I finally was able to convey to
> her that I needed the phone number for the LPD, which she found.  I called
> the number and had just reached woman who could help me, when officer
> bloviate came back and stuck his head in the car.  Before I could say
> anything, he informed me I could finish my call later, once he was done with
> me.  I told the lady on the phone I needed to go, hung up, and then listened
> to officer neverwrong begin to read me all the various infractions.  I said,
> "Aren't you going to let me call the LPD back so they can tell you about the
> tags?"  Proving that his powers of jerkiness were exceeded only by his
> inability to pay attention to anyone except himself, he replied, "What did
> they say?"  Rather than bursting out in laughter and saying something I
> might regret, I said, "That's who was on the line--you asked me to hang up."
> 
> He again said it would make no difference, and pointed to a phone number on
> the citation he gave me.  "Call that number if (he actually said, "if") you
> can prove you don't need tags for your car.  They'll work it out with you."
> He also said although he usually lowers the speed he lists on tickets below
> what the driver was actually driving because, "I hate giving out big-dollar
> tickets," in my case he was giving me "the full boat" with no reduction
> whatsoever.
> 
> The moral is, that one is never to argue with a grumpy police officer.  The
> problem is, however, when they are completely wrong, what is one supposed to
> do?
> 
> Just to show him I had no hard feelings, after he handed me the $850.00
> ticket, I asked him if he'd like to take the Pantera for a quick drive.
> Surprisingly, he declined.  In retrospect, despite that my offer was after
> the citation had been issued, he'll probably try to get me for some
> trumped-up attempting to bribe an officer charge...
> 
> I have a number of attorney clients, and I'll be checking with them on the
> best way to proceed.  It sure is annoying, though.
> 
> By the way, "Hey, officer bullheaded, check this out--from the Washington
> State Licensing website:
> License plate requirementsCollector license plates:May be assigned to
> currently registered passenger vehicles, motorcycles, or trucks.Are good for
> the life of vehicle.Aren't required to display month/year tab.Aren't renewed
> annually.
> 
> Too bad I didn't have David or Donny (my sons) with me--they could have
> pulled that info up on their phone right in front of officer technoboob.
> 
> The day had a happy ending, though.  Clarke and Wilma, the wonderful people
> they are, waited to go to dinner until 8:00 PM when I arrived at the hotel.
> We made a beeline for our favorite corral, that's right, "The Golden Corral"
> and gorged ourselves silly.
> 
> I was in such a mood that I ate four different desserts first.
> 
> Tomorrow, Google maps says my trip to Hermiston, Oregon should last 6 1/2
> hours.  Sadly, now it probably will...
> 
> Sincerely,
> Chris
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
> 
>  		 	   		  
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