I got pulled over for speeding in Texas yesterday and the officer looked like the kind of guy who dreamed about using his taser. So when he asked for my license and registration, I slowly got them out and handed them over.
"Do you know why I stopped you?" he asked.
I replied, "I think I do, sir, but I think you may be looking backward a little bit." Officer Rigveda (that was his name) looked behind him and then looked confused.
I tried to explain: "What I mean is, this is a time for reflection, not retribution. I know you don't want to hurt the morale of speeders and put the nation in danger."
"Step out of the car please."
I stepped out of the car, but I said roughly this: "I was just joking. Obama wants to prosecute prison guards for torture, but when it comes to the paper pushers who told them to do the torturing, he says 'this is a time to look forward, not backward.'" I used my best Barack Obama imitation, which is not saying much. I looked the man in the eye and tried to judge him, but all he said was:
"Place your hands on the roof of the car."
I didn't like how this was going, but I put my hands on the roof of the rented Chevrolet and said: "In my left front pocket you will find a memo drafted by my attorney which finds the speed I was traveling not to constitute a violation of the law. The memo is sealed but is potentially subject to release through a freedom of information act request, although -- again -- I don't really think you want to put our nation in danger. Do you?"
As Officer Rigveda searched me and administered a breathalyzer, I tried to explain the situation more clearly, since he just didn't say enough to reveal whether I was getting through to him. Mostly he gave one-sentence orders or asked questions.
"Where were you coming from and going to?" he grunted.
I said "Are you asking me that to be friendly or to investigate a crime, because if it's to investigate a crime then I don't recall."
He gave me a long look and finally said "I'm asking you to be friendly."
So, I said, "Well I'm late to get from the airport to a bookstore where I'm supposed to be signing copies of a book I wrote."
He asked what the book was called and I told him "Daybreak," and he seemed to think about it, somehow pleased by it, as if he'd caught me in something.
"Can you show me a copy of the book?"
I got one out of the car and showed it to him. He looked it over and quickly gave it back to me with a snort.
"Do you know why I stopped you?" he asked.
I replied, "I think I do, sir, but I think you may be looking backward a little bit." Officer Rigveda (that was his name) looked behind him and then looked confused.
I tried to explain: "What I mean is, this is a time for reflection, not retribution. I know you don't want to hurt the morale of speeders and put the nation in danger."
I stepped out of the car, but I said roughly this: "I was just joking. Obama wants to prosecute prison guards for torture, but when it comes to the paper pushers who told them to do the torturing, he says 'this is a time to look forward, not backward.'" I used my best Barack Obama imitation, which is not saying much. I looked the man in the eye and tried to judge him, but all he said was:
"Place your hands on the roof of the car."
I didn't like how this was going, but I put my hands on the roof of the rented Chevrolet and said: "In my left front pocket you will find a memo drafted by my attorney which finds the speed I was traveling not to constitute a violation of the law. The memo is sealed but is potentially subject to release through a freedom of information act request, although -- again -- I don't really think you want to put our nation in danger. Do you?"
As Officer Rigveda searched me and administered a breathalyzer, I tried to explain the situation more clearly, since he just didn't say enough to reveal whether I was getting through to him. Mostly he gave one-sentence orders or asked questions.
"Where were you coming from and going to?" he grunted.
I said "Are you asking me that to be friendly or to investigate a crime, because if it's to investigate a crime then I don't recall."
He gave me a long look and finally said "I'm asking you to be friendly."
So, I said, "Well I'm late to get from the airport to a bookstore where I'm supposed to be signing copies of a book I wrote."
He asked what the book was called and I told him "Daybreak," and he seemed to think about it, somehow pleased by it, as if he'd caught me in something.
"Can you show me a copy of the book?"
I got one out of the car and showed it to him. He looked it over and quickly gave it back to me with a snort.
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