From time to time, we—some more than others, me more than most—indulge in a little harmless us and them. Why? Because it’s fun to view the police, with their funny hats, tin stars, and Chief Wiggum stereotypes, as the enemy. Men and women sworn to keep us from having fun on the road and burying that right foot just a little bit too deep into the carpet, whose sole existence is predicated upon pulling us to the side of the road, giving us a stern talking to, lightening our wallets, and ruining our day (…and insurance premiums). We deride them, we call them names, and we enjoy when the Springfield Chief of Police has a criminal sneak through his legs, when he gets his impossibly sized belt looped around a streetlamp, or when he scratches his head with a loaded gun.
Of course, deep down, we know that they’re just men and women like anyone else trying to do their jobs and more often than not they’re doing the best they can at a thankless and dangerous job. I mean, it’s not their fault the speed limits are artificially set too low; they don’t make the rules, it’s just their job to enforce them. Sometimes that’s very, very deep down, but the realization is still there.
And yet, it’s more fun the other way. Track their patterns, watch their movements, and like a school of fish swimming among a shark, play it cool when they’re around. We’re all Bo and Luke Duke, they’re all Rosco P. Coltrane, changing speed limit signs on us and chasing us down in spectacular fashion where we always get away and get the girl and Uncle Jesse only yells at us a little bit. Oh, and then there’s Daisy—Catherine Bach, not Jessica Simpson—and since you’re not actually fictionally related to her, it’s not creepy to wish you could get a little more familiar with those tiny jean shorts she wore…while she’s wearing them.
Knowing this about me (the us vs. them line of thought, not the possibly unhealthy obsession with the original Daisy Duke), a friend of mine pointed me to this story posted up on Autoblog, about a man who paid a speeding fine in a unique way. 137 one dollar bills folded into origami pigs. Served in doughnut boxes. All in good fun, no doubt. Absolutely brilliant. I think I may have a new hero. Reading this story made my day. See the whole thing on Autoblog:
(Special thanks to Rich for pointing this out to me.)