I'm Going That-A-Way

[Note: I first want to wish my brother and frequent anonymous commenter Gary a happy 51st birthday today (April 7). He's a grandfather, as well as a GM employee and competitive basketball player, though he's thinking of retiring (from both.) Wishing him a happy birthday here is less expensive than sending him a card and since he's cheap like me, he'll appreciate my frugality.

Also wanted to give an update to my "Bracket Mania" post. Despite foolishly picking cross-state rival Michigan State to go all the way to the NCAA basketball finals (they lost in the first round), wife Wendy beat all seven of us T. menfolk handily in our own little hoops bracket challenge group. She correctly picked both UCLA and Florida to make the Final Four. So congrats to her as well.]

Maybe it's just my paranoia acting up again, but it seems lately that police everywhere have been on a ticket-writing spree. I got my first speeding ticket ever last fall. Fellow blogger WordWhiz wrote about getting a ticket recently. My son was ticketed in Canada for not wearing a seatbelt in the backseat, which is not illegal in Michigan. I hear horror stories about those traveling in Mexico getting stopped in Mexico where rental cars are often targeted by the local policia for the most innocuous of violations.

Anyhoo, my wife and I were at a local nightspot in Ypsilanti which was hosting a barbecue and beer-tasting. There are a number of micro-breweries along the I-94 corridor here, including the well known Bell's Brewery. We didn't sample any Bells, but tried several others, Jolly Pumpkin Artesian Ale being my favorite. When we walked out, I felt plenty sober enough to drive, but since I've heard of police cars waiting near bars for customers to drive off, I kept my eyes open. It would be my luck to be taking a sobriety test as a co-worker happened to drive by.

When we arrived at the parking lot, there were only a few cars sitting there in the glare of a nearby streetlight. Two of them were police cars, the occupants of which were out chatting with eachother. My car was directly across from them.

"Be careful," my wife warned as I started our car. Absolutely! I certainly wasn't going to do anything to attract any attention. I let the car warm up a second, put it into gear, and slowly rolled towards the policemen and their vehicles. Then I put my directional signal on so that everybody knew exactly which way I was turning once I left my parking space.

"That was too careful," Wendy said. It was. Besides the police, there was not another soul nor car in sight. Somebody putting on his blinker while leaving a parking spot would certainly look odd. Luckily for me, the officers just kept merrily chatting on.