Ducts and Ductlings all in a row EDIT tunes in Normal entries

Addressing the blues

I see you’re drinking again

You’re smoking smack inside your cigarette

And looking pale an d thin, it’s a shame, it’s a pity

In New York City (well, well, well) --- Sonia Dada (Perhaps the coolest song to ever rhyme fork with new York, except maybe that one Lou reed song, but he just uses the word fork doesn’t rhyme it with new York)

So I went to a mechanic and then to the Po-po, you know, 5-0, the heat, the fuzz, the man. I’m sure I didn’t mention this, well, not to y’all or the likes of y’all, but I got pulled over last week. First time ever that a cop has asked me if I knew why I was being pulled over that I honestly and sincerely was able to say “No, no sir I do not know, not even a clue” and I resisted listing all the things I wasn’t doing. I got cited for two thirds of my brake lights not working.

Yeah, I was pretty sure it was just the bulbs; I took the rig to a mechanic anyhow because the streets here have been tearing up my alignment, and, fortunately they discovered the serpentine belt was a hair line away from busting. I know, serpentine belt doesn’t even sound like a real thing, it sounds like a mechanics made up charge. Ten years ago the serpentine went on the mighty mighty jeep in the Gorge, two in the morning in an ice storm without cell reception. I’d rather have a serpentine belt than food or water. They charged almost nothing to replace it, though it took a half hour to get the part. I mean the labor was cheap.

I still need work done, but the brake lights needed to be done within ten days of the citation or … I don’t know, something bad I’m sure. Bench warrant on a brake light citation? I don’t know. So the deal is you have to go to the cop shop, find a cop, get him to look at your brake lights, sign the citation and then take the signed citation to the clerk at the courthouse.

In Portland it’s ones civic duty to give bad directions and although it takes a bit of Oregon mind meld you have to give different bad directions than the last person who gave the same guy shitty directions. It means the fifth guy has to be real creative. Anyhow, here in the heartland they’ll give you a ride on the tractor if they can’t give good directions. So, it came as a bit of a shock that no one from my mom to the mechanic could tell me exactly where the cop shop was, nor the waitress at Denny’s or the front desk mechanic, even the cop who gave me the citation couldn’t seem to recall the address. At least two of them (my mom and the mechanic) said No Habla.

I’ve just been there and I’m not sure I could tell you how to drive there, how to walk there is easy, but it’s hard to show your brake lights on foot. There was two spots, both had meters and said “Parking for City Hall Only” I circled twice and just parked there. The slot for coins was blocked but thirty minutes magically appeared like the flush of an airport urinal, like waving my quarter triggered it. Hope I can still use the quarter, like all the value hasn’t been electronically sucked from it.

It took two cadets and an umbrella to check my brake lights. I’ve had duct tape, see through duct tape, over my rear passenger side light since some idiot backed into it and ran. Apparently there is a part, an eighth inch high and maybe three eighths of an inch long that needs red duct tape. I shit you not. First the one cadet then the other explained to me the code about white light showing where only red is supposed to.

Then they had to find a real cop to actually sign. He also had to give me the duct tape regulation but from him it was an official warning with the possible threat of another citation if caught sans the proper color duct tape (oh, the mechanic suggested red duct tape too, I thought he was pulling my leg. Neither cop nor mechanic suggested actual original auto part parts).

The city hall was down the hall from the 5-0 window. There was a rope thing like at movie theatres, and no line and an exotic beauty of a clerk. I don’t know what ethnicity but whichever it made the whole experience one large Bennington commercial, a multi-cultural community. I don’t know if it was just that day or if Affirmative action hit EL hard. I don’t know, the university has always brought in an international crowd, the town not so much, mostly the ethnicity of the town is; Old. ---- Heh, this entry was interrupted by a phone call; I just told the duct tape story out loud. Not sure how it translates to type, but it’s pretty funny as an interactive tale.

Ok be safe y’all.