When I was 21, I went through a terrible
streak of speeding tickets — three instances, all exceeding 15 miles over the
limit, in a window of about 6 months.
To give it some perspective, I was living
in rural Jarrettsville — 30+ minutes from everywhere — and at College Park, and
I have what I would call a genetic disposition toward impatience and a
confident/aggressive style of driving. Every drive was going to take a long
time, so why not drive AS FAST AS I CAN to get there sooner?
The first ticket was in Jarrettsville on a
weekend morning, the second was probably a weekend afternoon in Towson from an
officer that was named Deputy Speed, who as you can imagine, relished pulling
people over and giving them tickets, and the third ticket was in Salisbury,
which everyone knows is a speed trap for people on their way to Ocean City, as
Josh and I were on that day.
Rather than paying the tickets and
accepting the points that came along with the fines, I had decided to go to
court to ask for leniency. The first judge gave me probation before judgement.
Somehow the second judge also gave me probation before judgement, even though the first ticket and probation
was already in my file. This was kind of amazing, but it also meant that
the points were kind of hanging over my head and could all come crashing down IF I got another speeding ticket.
So when that third ticket happened, at the
speed trap, on the first day of vacation, I bawled my eyes out. Not for the
cop, like I should have, but after he left, when Josh and I did the math about
how many points I was going to get in one fell swoop and about how much my auto
insurance was going to go up, and he literally said, “We might not be able to get married now.” They weren’t mean words,
but just my over-worrying fiancé’s thoughts, being spoken out loud, crushing my
dreams. Thankfully my parents didn’t freak (though I guess I was 21-year-old
and on my way out of their home, though for the time I was still on their auto
insurance policy). My mom agreed to go with me to traffic court in Salisbury,
to once more plead for mercy.
We showed up in town the night before and
got a motel room because court was supposed to start at 9 a.m. and you were
supposed to get there even earlier, and with commuter traffic around Baltimore,
we didn’t want to take any chances making that long of a drive and missing my
name getting called. I dressed up as professionally as I could. I sat on that
wooden pew (I don’t think they’re called “pews” in courthouses but that’s really
what they are) feeling sick to my stomach with nerves, but then something
amazing happened. The judge read a long list of names — several dozen,
including mine — and informed us that our state trooper was part of the
national guard and his unit had been called up to go to Iraq in response to
9/11. We were all getting off our tickets that day.
And that, my friends, is how I was
completely blessed to remain on “double secret probation,” to incur no points,
to get married in July of 2002 as was planned, and to not get a speeding ticket
again for many years.
Why am I sharing this? Because in the past
month I have had ANOTHER terrible streak. All of my own making, and yet these
THREE incidents still feel like they’re not fair. So indulge me as I whine, and
learn from my mistakes.
1.) Severe
bumper damage: I was driving my Highlander to the gym, like I do 4 days a
week, and on this day all the parking lot spaces were taken. I needed to do a
3-point turnaround to parallel park on the opposite side of the street. No
problem, I thought. I made the first point turn into the alley on the left, and
watched in my rear view mirror as another mom carried her wiggling toddler
towards our gym. Once they made it to the sidewalk, I continued to watch in my
rear view mirror as I backed up and angled my car into the second point of the
turnaround. I heard an awful “kkkkkkkkuuu” sound that I knew was something
scraping, so I pulled back forward, straightened out my wheels, and pulled
straight back. Then I made the left turn forward again, down the small street I
had started on, and easily parallel parked in my intended space. I remember Rye
was distressed by the sound, and I said something like “I think I scratched the
bumper but I’m sure it’s OK,” then hopped out while the kids were still in
their car seats and took a peek at my front driver’s side corner, which now looked
like the Incredible Hulk had punched it in. I felt like I had been punched in
the stomach! It looked awful, and it was also on the piece above the bumper,
and it scratched my headlight as well. 
I reported the damage to Rye, who burst
into tears and demanded we go to the auto body shop that very minute to get it
fixed. I told him it didn’t work that way, that we would have to make an
appointment, get an estimate, and then schedule another appointment for them to
do the actual work. Rye was sure they could fit us in that day, and besides,
how could we go to the gym after something this tragic had happened? We walked
back over to view what I had “hit,” if you can call bumping into something at 3
miles per hour in reverse “hitting” it, and sure enough, there was this RIDICULOUS
concrete barrier that looked freshly roughed up on its corner edge. I took the
kids into the nursery, ran for 25 minutes to get the adrenaline out of my
system, and then texted the upsetting news to Josh. He took it very well,
assuring me that everyone makes little miscalculations and mistakes and told me
we could fix it. But then…
2.) The
photo speeding ticket: That very day, in the mail, I saw an envelope from
the Baltimore County Automated Photo Enforcement Program with Josh’s name on
it, so I quickly opened it. I’m embarrassed to admit that I thought Josh had
gotten a photo ticket and it would be my opportunity to show him grace, and I
wouldn’t feel so upset at myself anymore because look, we all make driving
mistakes. Except the picture was again of the Highlander, which I drive 99.9%
of the time, and if Josh was driving it and got a photo ticket, it probably
would have been because I was egging him on to drive faster. But I looked at
the date and time and quickly deduced that yes, I was the one driving the
Highlander on that Tuesday, just 9 days before, and had been taking the scenic
route through Parkton in hopes that the kids would get a car nap on the way
home from my mother-in-law’s house. I definitely had NOT noticed any signs
warning about photo enforcement of the speed limit, like you see in Montgomery
County, or any road work sites, like you see on the beltway. So this offense
also seemed totally unfair, and receiving it on the same day that I crunched in
my bumper made me want to put on my pajamas and give up for the day.
Josh had originally said we could pay to
get my bumper fixed, but then didn’t bring it up again after that speeding
ticket. And then, just 15 days later,
3.) I
got pulled over for using my cell phone. I had left from breakfast with a
friend on Main Street in Westminster and went down John Street and took the
right onto Englar. Josh was at the skate park with the kids so I decided to
call him and see if he wanted me to pick them up right away or if they could
wait another 20 minutes so I could run an errand. Josh is saved under my
favorites on my phone, so all I had to do was push “phone,” “favorites,” and
then “Josh.” He didn’t answer, so I hung up. There were two SUVs taking up the
left lane and center lane on Englar, it looked like two women had had a fender
bender and were waiting for a cop before they moved out of their lanes. I saw a
Sherriff’s car behind me with the lights on, so I figured he was responding to
their accident. But then he drove past the accident, looking right at me, so I
pulled over as much as I could in the only open lane, about 40 feet up from the
SUVs. He got out and walked over to my window. I thought maybe I had done too
much of a rolling stop at John Street for his liking, but he told me he had
seen me using my cell phone and that a new law had gone into effect April 1,
which is why I was pulled over.
First off, I was surprised that my phone
was the issue, because I wasn’t texting, I had merely made a call. I was aware
that there had been a law change, but I didn’t know exactly what it was, but I
DID know that the police were really upping their enforcement in April because
they had been publicizing it on Facebook and I had seen it shared a couple of
times. Well, apparently under the new law, you cannot be HOLDING YOUR CELL
PHONE to make a call, unless it is an emergency, and it is now a PRIMARY
OFFENSE, not just a secondary offense that they can tack onto a ticket after
they see you break some other law. The first ticket is $83 and no points, the
second is $140, and each one after that is $160. Texting fines are now $70 plus
1 point on your license. Both of these can lead to suspended licenses for
minors.
Just the night before, I had warned Josh
that we probably shouldn’t talk on the phone as he was driving home because I
knew his Bluetooth earbuds were out of commission, and with him driving at
night time, a cop was more likely to see that glowing phone up at his head and
he could get a ticket. And then the very next day, it’s ME who gets a ticket
for making a phone call, which seems doubly unfair because Josh hadn’t even
picked up.
Josh was infuriated when I told him about
it—not at me, but at the unlawfulness of the law. I wouldn’t say it’s an
unlawful law, but I certainly wouldn’t have voted for it if I were a state
delegate. Because frankly, this is super unrealistic. How often do you use your
phone in the car? I’m going to guess that 80 percent of us use it EVERY SINGLE
TIME. At least out here in the suburbs. I would not be texting while crossing
the Bay Bridge, or driving on the beltway or 95, or anywhere at rush hour. I’m
mostly doing it at red lights, or when I’m 30 miles per hour or less. And I
know the anti-phone-use-while-driving people are going to say that it is still
distracted driving and it could get you or someone else killed. And I would
agree with that, at high speeds and unfamiliar territories. But really, when are
we ever not distracted while driving? When my toddler is screaming for his milk
bottle? When my six-year-old is asking me what brand of traffic drums SHA uses
on 795? When we’re sick of hearing The Strokes album again in my 6-disc player
and I’m trying to find which disc slot has Talking Heads? When I’m trying to
eat my Chick-Fil-A breakfast chicken biscuit without getting crumbs all over my
shirt so no one knows I made a morning Chick-Fil-A run? When I’m using GPS to
figure out why in the world 140 is at a crawl? (GPS is still technically
allowed.) Also, are these new cars with their fancy dash computers any LESS
distracting than a phone? Maybe I can find a phone holder that I can slide into
my cassette player and then they won’t give me a hard time next time.
I agree that phones can be distracting—remember
how everyone made fun of smartphone users that would be walking and looking at
their phone instead of up, back when they were the minority and the rest of us
had flip phones that we only used for making actual calls? But then people
adjusted, and learned to walk with their phones. I feel like driving has
already gone through some of that growth period. You don’t see people making as
many stupid mistakes as they used to. But I have no statistics on that.
Anyway, my car looks beat up, I’m watching
the speedometer closer than I have in a long time, and I’m trying to put my
phone on silent and keep it in my purse while I’m driving. The biggest upside I
can see at this point is 10 years from now, when Rye is driving, I won’t be a
hypocrite when I tell him to not use his phone while driving.
Of course by then we’ll probably all have
a microchip in our brains and “smartphones” will be obsolete.
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| Rye has added a "caution" sign to prevent any- one else from hitting this stupid concrete barrier |
