The Southwest Voice

All > News
It Happened to Me Part Two: Engines and horses
Topics: Traffic School, Forced Safe Driving, Memoir, Essay, Traffic Tickets, DMV, Satire, Humor
Posted by themelaman Tue Oct 17, 2006 13:03:35 PDT
Viewed 209 times
0 responses 0 comments I once sat in a business meeting in which the speaker tried to break the ice by telling a joke.

“What has two hundred legs and three teeth? Give up? The front row of a Willy Nelson concert. Hahaha.”

When several people laughed, he relaxed and said, “I’d like to take our CEO’s paycheck, buy nearby Taft, and give it back to the Indians.”

I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to laugh, but I think he had something there. It made sense to give Native Americans back native lands.

Several years passed. Then I got a speeding ticket in Navajo County, Ariz. The very name seemed to imply “Indian ground.”

"Wait a minute," I thought. "Wasn’t it all Indian ground?"

I thought about it while the officer wrote out a ticket. Maybe for each traffic violation, the government should return 100 acres to Native Americans. Instead of issuing points on your driving record, the DMV could make you perform community service on newly redeemed lands. That might actually be more fun than traffic school.

But maybe there are reasons the government doesn’t just throw land at Native Americans.There are social, political and health issues that need to be addressed. 

The patrol officer was a humble, younger man who seemed to be of Native American descent. His glasses and close, gelled haircut made him look like a medical student.

“Sorry, I would give you a warning, but too many people have died around here lately."

I accepted the ticket as though it were a certificate of honor. I liked being “on his side,” whatever that meant.

Make no mistake –– no one likes getting a traffic ticket. But I preferred to not focus on the pain.

Instead, I imagined over-simplified solutions to the “Indian plight.” In my elaborate delusion, I was the “good American,” the person who cared for his Native American neighbors.

That’s the problem with people. We pay attention to something long enough to feel better before the “concern” fades.

My delusion was stronger. It followed me into California, where I proudly ticked off other drivers by driving the speed limit in the fast lane. How I longed for one these drivers to climb up my hood, his lips flapping out of control in the wind. “Why!?” he would ask.

“I’m on special assignment,” I’d say, thinking back to the officer’s parting words: “Just be careful. There are more patrol cars down the road.”

Maybe I was nervous. Or maybe I just wanted to feel important. I told the officer, “Thank you, Your Officer, I mean, Mr. Police Honor.”

After three hours in a Sunday traffic class, I am more convinced that the enemy is not the highway patrol. Rather, it’s the system that gives us traffic “school.” No orange cones, no driving course, just a lecture that no one is bound to retain. My drowsy classmates were proof of that.

The teacher prefaced most of his “lessons” by asking, “Did you know?”

“Did you know that the Bill of Rights guarantees you the right to free travel, but it never mentions cars? And the DMV is not bashful about reminding you: driving is a privilege, not a right.”

I wondered why this Franklin Graham look-alike dressed like a golf caddy. Where was the famous preacher’s suit? You see this with some people who look too much like celebrities. The Charles Manson double who dresses up; the Elton John twin who avoids pianos and works at the library. Anything to outfox the unwanted spotlight

“Did you know that in Bakersfield, it is still legal to drive a horse-drawn carriage on any road? I know, because I looked up the law.” I imagined myself cracking a whip in rush hour traffic and how long that would last before drivers united and strangled me with my buggy whip. People get angry at me just for being behind the wheel

I learned that working in a state makes you an automatic resident of that state, subject to all its traffic laws. It seems that with a DMV guide, you could understand the subtleties of our world. Not sure why your date ditched you after a “relaxing” drive? Open up your DMV guide and learn that slow driving, too, is a traffic violation. Maybe it’s a social sin as well. Want to know why it takes a full 45 minutes to fly from San Francisco to Los Angeles and only five hours to find your “nearby” hotel? Open up your DMV guide and learn about a city’s crucial need for nothing but one-way streets. Most “rules of the road” seem to exist for the sole purpose of making life miserable.

But, there were other benefits for knowing DMV law. For example, you could become a road vigilante. With a straight face, the teacher said, “Why not turn in grandma for unsafe driving? I mean, if failing vision renders her unable to – um – handle the road, you ought to exercise your right to make that anonymous phone call.” He said that DMV officials would subject the suspected senior to a vision test and, if necessary, take away her license. I pictured a hunched-over grandmother hobbling home on the freeway. “Just eight more exits to go,” she’d say. “Sure, it’s windy and loud, but it’s the only way I know.” It’s a sick world. 

The teacher talked road safety to a class that still resembled a wax museum. “What do you do when you’re driving into an intersection and a pedestrian enters the crosswalk?” A few people shifted in their seats, but no one spoke up. “Come on, guys. Do you have the right of way?” Someone said yes, and the teacher’s voice rose like a clarinet. “NooooOOO? Just think of the pedestrian with sunglasses, a seeing-eye dog, and a white cane with a red tip.” We were the kind of class you had to spoon-feed. After waiting a minute, he said, “Okay, what happens if you drive into a crosswalk on a yellow light and a blind person steps off the curb? You better believe that he has the right of way, because you’d have to be a blind track star to make it across in time.” The message seemed clear: avoid a ticket and kill someone, or get a ticket and save a life. In California, I think many lives are saved in those precious seconds it takes the average driver to deliberate: “Do I really want to save that man’s life?”

I had to admire this teacher’s patience, though. He gave us the answers and left punishment to the DMV, the courts, and my father.

The teacher shifted his ball cap and rubbed temples. “If you cross the center divider to a let a screaming fire truck pass, you’re just begging to die.” When it came to our personal safety, he was most fervent. “This isn’t difficult, guys. Just use common sense and you’ll save lives.” But how many California traffic laws are common sense? Starting this year, you can be cited during the daytime for failing to turn on your headlights when activating your windshield wipers. Whose life is that saving?   

Some traffic signals actually invite disaster. At a four-way intersection near my house, the left turn light will often stay green for only five seconds. I have to floor my car in order to avoid getting my picture taken by a traffic spy camera. Any pedestrian caught in the far crosswalk is in danger. I am not against a society where everyone rides horses.

 

Send to a Friend

Report a Violation