9/17/04
A warning for you: if you suffer from Driver’s Leadfoot, don't speed anywhere near Harrsion, NY. I recently received my first speeding ticket in about 12 years there, and it was an Orwellian haze to get through.
For starters, they don't let you plead “guilty” and just pay the fine. You have to plead not guilty and show up to court. Now, that would be fine if there were any hope of arguing your case, but there isn't. Not that I could: I was doing 80 in a 55 (I know, I know). Instead, the Town Court of Harrison hears all of their traffic offences on two Tuesdays, each month. So I showed up at nine a.m., to meet about 60-75 of my fellow offenders, waiting in line to enter the court.
The court itself is small. Seats about 50. The court is also hearing several small claims cases, so there ends up over 100 people just kind of standing around.
The clerk announces that the Judge doesn't allow anyone to read in his court. A wave of mixed annoyance and paranoia starts to move through the crowd: the judge is a hardass. We're also told that even though we're parked for the court, there's a chance we might get parking tickets if we're in the one or two hour parking zones that surround the court. If that happens, we're assured, we can bring it in and have it dismissed. Maybe.
9:45 – “All rise”. The judge enters, sits, addresses the crowd. He's kind of amusing. But. “No reading. No talking. No bad posture. Try not to look bored. Don't make faces. Be nice”, he says repeatedly. Nice? We're told to sit and wait for the various traffic cops to come and call us out of the courtroom.
I spend the time trying to write lyrics in my head, but it's not happening.
The docket begins: Unpaid rent, sleazy contractors, zoning violations. 10:30, my officer still hasn't shown. Several other people have already met with their officers, and their cases are presented to the judge. He flips through their folders, and the stops on one. He calls the driver up. Brush-cut Frat-guy. Excuses, excuses. “I was twenty when I got that. I'm twenty-two, now!”
How fast was this guy going? I start to sweat.
The judge, with growing outrage: “The officer was too lenient here.” To the clerk, “Marjorie, make a note… no-one with speeds over 90 is going to get off easy.” This relaxes me, but there's a cloud of gripes floating around the court now. Judge don't like. He's mad now. YELLS at the crowd. “I told you to be nice! Now I'm going to take a 15 minute recess so you have time to quiet down!” The griping of the crowd intensifies. “Okay, THIRTY MINUTES!”
The judge storms out of the court.
11:15 – “All rise”. The judge comes back, to a subdued courtroom. Finally, we learn how fast Frat Boy was going. 104 m.p.h. All right. Lecture to Frat Boy, lecture to officers, lecture to crowd. Lecture to the captive audience. I'm beginning to understand.
12:30 – Finally, my officer shows. We're called out to meet with him in a group, another lecture. Then we meet with him individually. Then back into the court so that the judge can approve or deny the outcome.
The result:
- $205 fine
- 3-points on license
- Mandatory Defensive Driving class
- And let's not forget the four hours sitting in the court not being allowed to read or alter facial expressions.
I sped, so you don't have to.
Anyway, we've got a number of cool things lined up for the site, including an online comic, so check back soon - I hope to have the first few panels up by next week.
In the meantime, here's some audio. Variation 9/14/04
Backstory: Tuesday nights, I play drums in a cover band named, currently, "Hypnotoad". Previously, we've been named "Monkey X Mystery Attack", "Piper Down", "Autopsy Turvy", "The New Number Two" and "TranZpHat".
It's not really meant for public consumption, it's really more like a Bridge Club with guitars. The material reflects this: most cover bands play songs you'd think a bar crowd might want to hear. We play songs even we're not sure we want to hear.
The sound file above is part of our odd ongoing project to improvise an entire suite of covers of "Wave of Mutilation", by the Pixies. The only rules are that it has to be a complete group improvisation, as unlike any version we've done before as possible, and preferably an equal mix of unpleasant and amusing.
On behalf of Hypnotoad, we hope we've made you laugh and boot.
Jim Doller: Vox
Dave Kopperman: Drums
Jim McDonald: Bass
Sean Scorsone: Percussion
Karl Tsakos: Guitar
I should note that Copper Man does not endorse this project.
-Dave
Oh, all right. One more link: "Finder", by Carla Speed McNeil
With the end of "Cerebus", meet my new favorite comic. A deep, wide universe, where practical and mystical needs press for attention. Superlative writing and perfectly balanced black and white art. Thirty-four issues in, and I'm still a little unclear what's going on. Recommended for everybody.
P.S.: I didn't get a parking ticket.