Monday, November 22, 2010
When the cop asked if I knew English I knew I was getting a ticket or rethinking ipecac and blood capsules
As with any father, my fathers advice is subjective and sometimes liable to end you, well not you, me, in jail. My dad advocates Marxism and the picketing of businesses. He feels tipping was conceived by capitalists and as a hobby goes to churches of differing religious denominations to debate their version of the gospel.
Not surprisingly, it was my dad who introduced me to the common disdain people feel towards cops. He says some cops are corrupt, savage and in some instances murderers while in most cases they're just individuals working one of societies dirtier jobs. I asked him if any cops are like the cops in the show CHIPS or the Police Academy series and he said he strongly doubted it. I asked what I should do if ever I was pulled over. My dad said regardless of the infraction, always be respectful and courteous. He said an inordinate amount of "sirs" works wonders on cops accustomed to meeting an ordinarily abrasive driver anticipating a traffic citation.
I got my first ticket while doing 92 MPH in a 65 while en route to a baptism in Flagstaff. To be honest, I don't know why I was speeding up North to see my niece dunked in water, but I was. It was me, a copy of Let It Be on CD, which happens to be the greatest album the Replacements would ever record, and 270 miles of open road. I was in the middle of an air drum solo when I looked up to see a highway patrol vehicle following me and the officer seemed quite upset. I immediately pulled over and waited for the cop to come up to my window. It was my first time dealing with the police and I didn't really know what to expect. Do they taser first, then ask questions? What's the go to method of deterrence, mace or nightstick? The cop got to my truck and I just looked at him. To be honest dear reader, I really was scared. I thought he was going to beat the crap outta me. Ridiculous? Yeah, but it's not improbable. It's not like YouTube is filled with tasering reenactments much like they reenact the Delaware crossing in grade school.
So we both just looked at each other for a few moments. He then took out his nightstick and began gently rapping the window with it. I took this as a sign to roll the window down, which I did immediately. He then asks me a question that usually ends with a deportation, "Do you know English son?" I in fact did know English and told him so. He then asks for my ID, where I'm heading and why I'm speeding? Hoping the cop is a staunch Catholic, I immediately tell him I'm heading to a baptism. He then produces a clip board with paper work for me to sign, then tells me to step out of the vehicle. And this is where the way that we, that being you and I reader, interact with police officers differs dramatically.
When I've given the cop as many sirs, no sirs, thank you sirs, may I have another sirs, or yes I call my mother regularly sirs, and it's abundantly clear I'm getting a ticket, then I revert back to the 4th grade and proceed to ask the cop any ridiculous question my wild little brain can conjure up. This usually, not always but more often than not, leads to more questioning on the cops part. Questions that are a cops natural reaction to my questions. Samples: What drug is a straight ticket to jail? What's the highest number of bodies you've found in a trunk? Let's say my friend is holding, am I getting a ticket? If I had to be shot, which gun would I want to be shot with? And in the instance where I was rear ended and an overly inquisitive cop stuck his head in through the window of my truck, I sensed another "what kind of drug are you running" inquisition brewing. So as a preemptive measure I blurted out "I don't have any drugs". That cop didn't respond well to that. My sister dated a cop for awhile and I went hog wild on that guy with the questions. He eventually had to ask me if I had any warrants which I was proud to say I didn't.
My buddy Chris has figurative balls that are substantially larger than mine when it comes to dealing with the police. He has been roughed up, or some would say man handled by the police, but I'd have to say he had it coming on most situations. He had the gall to call a bike cop a pussy after the bike cop ticketed him for running a yellow light. Normally calling a cop a pussy earns you fleeting fame on YouTube starring in your own tasering video, but for some reason the cop let Chris go. Then again, this is the same police department that pulled Chris over nearly pickled twice, and let him go both times.
On a side note: I had an idea on how to get out of tickets that I ran by my Serbian friend Cocho, who didn't hesitate to tell me that I'd get arrested if I tried. Basically, first I get pulled over. Before the cop gets to my vehicle I take a swig of ipecac, which is a fast acting vomitive. in my mind, the serving and protecting part of the officers personality is going to overwhelm the ticket and harass portion and he's going to become concerned about my general well being and see to it that I get home safely. Which is more or less the same train of thought with the blood capsules. I figured if I popped one and made it seem as though I was experiencing a real gusher of a nose bleed, the officer would take pity on me and send me on my way. Cocho the Serbian pointed out that if the cop was to determine that my "blood" was corn syrup based that I'd be in a real world of hurt. He said I could take comfort in knowing that in his country I'd probably lose a finger for a stunt like that.
There's a point coming pilgrim, so here it is. People fear the police and I can't argue that they haven't given me reasons not to fear them. But I have no qualms about asking a cop wherever, whenever anything that crosses my mind and neither should you. I was dressed up as a storm trooper when I saw a cop shortly after I got a ticket earlier this year. I walk over to the cop, remove my helmet and proceed to tell him about my bullshit ticket. He said seeing me without my helmet was "fucking up the illusion for him." The last point is this: That whole adage my pops fed me about being nice to the cops to get out of a ticket? Pure bullshit. I put the spit shine on a cops ass every time and I'm 6 tickets for 6 pullovers. I'll find Jimmy Hoffa's bones and the chupacabra before I find a cop that responds well to my outgoing flurry of sirs. But remember kids, Bobby Fuller said I fought the law and the law won right before Dr. Dre, Easy-E and Ice Cube said fuck the police.
Love yer law abiding pal, Luke
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Solid, steadfast friendship is a funny, elusive thing. To make it through the perpetual changes of life and still retain a few solid friends, thats remarkable. I equate most of life's struggles to a war on what ever the case may be. To me, a declared solidarity to someone seems like a fair bet to ensure that you're coming out intact. If it's your spouse then you're declaring war on the general bullshit life presents be it In-laws, bills, etc., but if it's your friend, and i mean true blue friend, then you're essentially life partners without the protests and demonizing.
Admittedly, there's a lot of shape shifting and principle shuffling to be done as the years pass, and you lose some folks along
the way. Such is life, you accept these things as they present themselves and keep marching on. But some folks are easier to let go of then others. I had this buddy we're going to call Ted Nugent, who I used to pal around with back in High School. He was the yin to my yang, the chocolate in my pudding, the Abbot to my Costello (which ever one was more rotund would be Ted Nugent) or the Boss Hog to my Roscoe. We were more or less inseparable throughout the years and saw each other through many hallmark moments of our adolescence like my offering up my bedroom to Ted Nugent while I was at school so he could lose his virginity to the girl that worked the popcorn machine at the second run movie theater he was a door man at. Or when Ted Nugent witnessed my other best friend perform amateur Rhinoplasty on me by uppercutting me, thereby breaking my nose.
After high school is when things got weird between Ted Nugent and I. Ted Nugent fell in with a different crowd. A crowd that preyed upon his frustrations and discontentment. No, not the Crips. No not even a biker gang, though I think the sole reason a biker gang wouldn't take Ted Nugent was because he had difficulties with math and if the staple crop of the American biker is or was crystal meth and the selling of it their main form of income, one would hope you'd have your sales right when a man named Cobra is asking for his money. No, my dear friend Ted Nugent started running with the conservative talk radio crowd. At first he started off easy with Tom Leykis, who is sort of like the gateway drug to the more debilitating heroin that is Michael Savage. According to Ted Nugent, Leykis' modus operandi is that you should only have to take a girl to Sizzler to get to "happy town".Ted Nugent quickly moved on to Michael Savage, and therein lies the sole reason for the demise of our relationship. Our irreconcilable difference, if you will.
I'm a fairly passive, easy going guy who is extraordinarily difficult to piss off. But Ted Nugent took to reminding me of my "liberal agenda" every time I'd see him and eventually I had to illustrate a point for him. If there is an agenda, which I wasn't made aware of if such an agenda does exist, then I'm too lazy to follow it. I went to an Anti-Bush rally once, but only because it was hosted by a magazine i wrote for and I wanted to see the former singer of the Dead Kennedy's speak. I might vote regularly, but I don't put that much stock into politics anymore so to say I adhere to anyone's agenda would be off base at best. Though I'm committed to the agenda of a guy that makes pizza in Phoenix as his pizza might actually contain trace amounts of heroin, its that good.
As Ted Nugent delved deeper and deeper into the rhetoric of conservative radio, hanging out with him became a test of one's mental fortitude and ability to ignore comments like "When are you gonna knock Obama's cock outta yer mouth?" You know, one's memory starts to wane as the years mount, but I'd surely remember fellating the presidential wang. I would. And I'd want a ribbon, or plaque for doing it along with a large sum of money. Something I could retire with. And it's not simply a matter of differing politics. I support whatever you're into, really I do. Who you rally for means zero to me. If you're a Munchkin and you're pissed off at how the Wicked Witch is running Oz into the yellow brick covered ground, I'm more than happy if you and a horde of equally disgruntled knee high reachers, along with the Lollipop Guild protest and vote for better living conditions. Just don't preach if you're not preaching to the choir.
As a side note, I should mention something that Ted Nugent does when he's trying to belittle you. He starts to say in a roundabout way that you're not the smartest guy around, but completely fucks things up in the process. Sample: You're not the sharpest bulb in the box. It's hilarious and innocent and I love it every time he says it. I have decided that only on Ted Nugent's death bed will I explain to him that spoons and lightbulbs aren't meant to be smart just like knives aren't intended to be bright.
And so it is with dear Ted Nugent in mind that I ask for Hannity, O'Reily, Savage, Leykis and their ilk to not necessarily return Ted Nugent to his old state. The newer version of Ted Nugent,Ted Nugent 2.0, at the very least doesn't leave his porn out for the world to see. (I didn't think the porn industry could top the industry standard of 3 x's, you know XXX. That pretty much spells out the plot, the subplot and overall intention of the film for you. But some innovative, ground breaking cinematic visionary saw a threshold of x's that was meant to be broken and thus released a film whose title was proceeded by no less than 6 X's. I saw this film haphazardly left in the middle of Ted Nugent's room, picked up the tape and asked Ted Nugent if he thought the films ending left room for a sequel. ) No, I just ask the who's who of conservative radio to instill a sense of acceptance of others in Ted Nugent as to make him more tolerable and less abrasive. Ted Nugent's friendship is worth dealing with all those extra X's.
Monday, November 1, 2010
Prince says if the elevator tries to bring you down, well, go crazy or Things to fear more than political landscape change
With the election having passed, emotions on both ends of the political spectrum have been stirred and you may find yourself in a state of elation or dejection, depending on your placement on the political radio dial. You might be thinking that darker days lie ahead, and dearest cowboys and cowgirls, they might. You might be thinking that all your pothead friends that tell you a comet is going to strike Earth in 2012 and there ain't a goddamn thing Ben Affleck or Bruce Willis can do about it and you might as well max out your credit cards on lap dances and fur coats. But when you think about it, there are more pressing issues. Here's a users guide to issues more pertinent than individuals that appreciate Dennis Miller being elected.
1. Creed/Nickelback still retain a loyal fan base. Sweet Jesus, how is this possible? Messianic posturing on both parts aside, theirs is the music of the tin eared. When I hear their music, I feel like they've had their way with my ear holes and if you swabbed my ears they'd smell like the DNA of the lead singer of Creed.
2. Weight gain. I love pizza about as much as I love wearing old pairs of pants. Brie cheese is just as great, but brie cheese might be made from angel tears and heroin for its the perfect balance of heavenly and evil. It's definitely up there in the things that can help you lose sight of your junk while in an upright position.
3. Get A Life still isn't, and might never be released on DVD. In the late 80's, early nineties, Fox had a show that was based around a guy named Chris Elliot whose only aspiration in life was to be a newspaper boy. Fox didn't get it, viewers didn't get it, so it was cancelled. The shows premise is eerily reminiscent of the directionlessness experienced by many the 30 something, with an REM theme song no less.
4. Colonoscopies. You will get one one day, friendo. I'm a 2 time colonoscopy vet, compadre, and they're not that bad. Not as enjoyable as, say, soft serve ice cream or peeing outside, but its not the adulthood equivalent of a trip to the dentist that it's made out to be. Plus, they give you wallet sizes afterwards and Grandmas everywhere are a big fan of the wallet sized photo.
5. Going Crazy. I'm not talking about the "let's kick off our purple high heels, should the elevator try to bring us down" kind of crazy wee little one Prince sang about. I'm talking about dementia. My grandmother lived with it and I decided that Grams has officially checked out mentally when she emphatically insisted that I was an astronaut. I couldn't argue with her on that one. If it had been a janitor or short order cook, I'd have corrected her. But I liked the idea of me landing, or not landing depending on who you talk to, on the moon. But nonetheless, crazy could be on life's menu for some of us. With that in mind, I stopped using deodorant that contains aluminum. The problem with this is you only find these types of deodorant at places where people that normally eschew societal norms like masking funkiness shop (i.e. Whole Foods or Trader Joe's ). So its not at all surprising that you find that when you use their deodorant, you begin to smell like them. Fact of the matter is, while I'm minimizing my aluminum intake, I smell like a Phish fan.
6. Gay people still can't marry. You could argue this point, but I have trouble accepting that an army of KD Lang fans and men who can pinpoint with undeniable accuracy where the watershed moments lie in Madonna's career (I'm going with Justify My Love and Ray Of Light) threaten the sanctity of marriage. They can't threaten an institution whose sanctity was compromised a long time ago, I'd say sometime in the 80's when divorces really started to pick up steam in this country. The sentiments that marriage is based upon are sacred, or should be, but the actual legal process is anything but. And for what its worth, gay marriages might have better foundations than their straight counterparts as when you're denied something for so long and finally receive it, you seem more apt to take better care of it.
7. You're going to lose your edge. You will. I have. And a younger person will be the first one to point it out to you. I was playing the Beatles at a party and a young girl referred to it as "her Dad's music". I wanted to offer a hipster rebuttal, but i realized "Holy shit Luke, you're turning into a middle aged man. When do I start buying Don Henley Cd's"? In spite of that, I run all the time and listen to the Butthole Surfers despite the new sensation I'm experiencing in my left knee I've named "future knee surgery".
8. Back Hair. Most will dodge this bodily stigma of a bullet. Some like my buddy Brian, who possesses a mean swath of thick back hair, won't. His words: It's not the back hair that bothers me, it's the stigma attached to it. Uhm, yeah. It's one of many middle fingers life likes to extend to men as they age.
9. Paranoia while smoking weed. I used to be a gold medal winning weed smoker, till I started experiencing a certain level of paranoia reserved for short wave radio listeners and conspiracy theorists. And I loved smoking too. I really did. You know the wheels in your brain? Well mine are spun by gerbils on meth. Factor in paranoia and I could convince myself that a tactical team composed of highly trained girl scouts, former girl friends and Navy Seals were waiting outside my buddy's house to bust the door in, turn down our Afghan Whigs and interrogate us. What would they get us to admit to? I guess I could cop to an unshakable caffeine addiction.
10. Dane Cook will increase in popularity. There's a Billy Ran Cyrus element of magic to Dane Cook's career as he's insanely popular yet no one I know bought one of the millions of Cd's this guy, like Mr. Achy Breaky, has sold. A lot of America's tastes are formed around a type of laziness similar to lying on your side and waiting for an apple to roll into it. It is what it is. Still, Cook and Carrot Top could tour under the "Two Servings Of Awful" banner, and sell out shows from coast to coast. And so it goes.
Yer Pal, LMF
P.S.: Purple Rain beats out Lets Go Crazy every time.