Well, it happened again. For the third time in seven months I've been cited for a moving violation. You may recall from my earlier post that (a) none of my tickets has been for speeding or driving under the influence or shooting at other drivers, and (b) I disputed and defeated the charge the most recent charge. Ever since then I've been hypervigilant as I drive, dropping well beneath the speed limit and virtually shifting into park at every stop sign or stop light. But the man keeps trying to bring me down. I found out this week that my passenger-side headlight is out; that little insight from a Village of Roselle police officer is costing me thirty-five bucks.
The officer had one hand on his holster and one hand on the extra-bright flashlight as he approached my car. I told him good evening and handed him my license and insurance card; he asked me if there was anything he should know about my license. I still don't know what he meant by that (feel free to speculate), because based on my reply and his reaction he wasn't asking if I'm still at the same address or if I've recently gained some weight. My best guess is that, in the minds of the village leadership in Roselle, there's some terrorist message encoded when someone willfully acts to, in the words of the Wallflowers, "drive it home with one headlight."
I really am getting tired of getting pulled over, and as I mentioned in my earlier post, my attempt to defend my driving honor and voice my prophetic diatribe against traffic justice in the United States was interrupted by a forgetful bureaucracy, so once again this time I sat in my car waiting for my ticket and grumbling internally about the unfairness of my situation. I made myself a bet that a third to a half of all the cars that passed by as the Roselle officer wrote my ticket would have at least one headlight out of service, then I started counting. To my shock, only one driver along this busy thoroughfare was a scofflaw like me; apparently Roselle's zero-tolerance policy has effectively rooted out pediddle-driving banditry from its village limits.
After a while, the officer returned to me my license, proof of insurance and ticket. He told me that the ticket won't go on my driving record--that it's a village ordinance I've violated, not a rule of the road. This was free money for Roselle; I know that much for certain, as much because I have such a sophsticated sense of logic and such open eyes about the injustice of the traffic-law system as because of the address to which I was to send my ticket:
Village of Roselle