My Real Memoir
I’d reached the sagely age of 20, and had learned many things. Putting oil in a car wasn’t one of them. Dad was demonstrably displeased when his long-haired hippie of a son managed to blow-up his Volkswagen beetle. Nevertheless, after he finished blowing up, he allowed me to use the bug’s cadaver as a downpayment on a groovy avocado green Chevrolet Vega.
Two weeks later, a very un-groovy cop pulled me over.
“But my speedometer said 65!”
“I clocked you at 72, son.”
I courteously explained that he was wrong about many things, also that I wasn’t his “son,” and he gratefully gifted me with a speeding ticket.
So I had the speedometer checked — it was off by seven miles per hour! (Inaccurate speedometers were only one of a gaggle of issues Chevy’s first official sub-compact had.)
“How do you plead?” asked the Bailiff.
“Not guilty!” I proclaimed, as I clutched my love-worn copy of Thoreau’s Civil Disobedience.
“In the case of the Universe vs. Mitch Teemley,” the Bailiff droned, “Mr. Teemley pleads not guilty.”
The Judge motioned me forward. “What’s your story, son?” (Why did everybody think I was their descendant?)
“Funny you should ask. I was driving a brand-new Vega and—”
“Guilty or not guilty?”
“I-had-the-speedometer-checked-and-it-turns-out-it’s-off-by-exactly—”
The Judge’s eyebrows plunged vertiginously. “Do you have the certification?”
I passed the document to the Bailiff.
“Guilty. You can pay your fine at the Clerk’s window down the hall. Next.”
I stood there, stunned. The Bailiff unsnapped his holster.
“I don’t understand!” I blurted.
“What don’t you understand, son?” asked my newly-adopted father. You were going 72 miles per hour.”
“Well, technically, yes—”
“Then technically you were breaking the law.”
“But I didn’t know—”
“That doesn’t matter.
“But—”
“We’re done here, Mr. Teemley.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“No.”
“If someone tied you up and tossed you through your neighbor’s window, would you be guilty of breaking-and-entering?”
“Pay the fine or go to jail, Mr. Teemley.”
I pulled Thoreau from my pocket and read aloud, “Under a government which imprisons unjustly, the true place for a just man is also a prison!”
The Judge stared in disbelief. “Do you want to go to jail, son?”
“No.”
“Then, pay the fine.”
“I can’t. It would be wrong.”
“But you broke the law.”
“Not knowingly. Maybe General Motors should pay the fine.” The courtroom erupted in laughter. I grinned.
That was bad.
Up until now I’d benefited from the Judge’s amused tolerance. But the moment I started working the room, his tolerance disintegrated. “You can change your plea to ‘guilty’ and go to traffic school, or you can keep your ‘not guilty’ plea and go to jail.”
The Bailiff hoisted a pair of massive manacles.
I cringed. “Well, I’m not sure I…”
“Choose, Mr. Teemley!”
“Traffic school!” the coward inside me screamed.
“Thank you. Now go pay your fine.”
“You mean I still have to pay the…?”
The Judge’s eyebrows plummeted.
I’ve always had noble ideals. But the fortitude to stand by them, well… Those handcuffs were big, dammit! As I skittered away, my book fell to the ground, clearly trying to escape my craven company.
It would have gone to jail!
My Real Memoir is a series. To read the next one, click here.
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Hah! Yes, I used to know everything, too. Generous of your dad to help you with the car, though.
It was indeed, Herb.
You said, “If someone tied you up and tossed you through your neighbor’s window, would you be guilty of breaking-and-entering?”??!! To a judge?! I’m laughing so hard right now. I can’t believe he didn’t throw you in jail.
:>D
You should have followed up with a strongly-worded letter to GM demanding they reimburse you for the cost of the ticket and time lost in traffic school. Then you could get in on a class-action suit and have the advertisements all over the TV.
“If you have bought a Chevy Vega within the last two years and you’ve been ticketed for speeding, you may be eligible for substantial compensation. Call 1-800-Tickets and speak to one of our 2000 representatives from the law firm: Dewy, Cheatem, Anhow, Merril, Linch, Crosby, Stills, Nash, Barnes, and Nobel.”
Then after the suit is settled, you’d get $4.97 in reimbursement.
;>)
fegan how many hours is 3 days
Great story, well told, Mitch!!
Thanks, Ed!
Oh poor young Mitch! I’m with you. I would’ve been crestfallen. The judge should’ve at least heard you out. Ha ha.
Right you are, Brian. The friend who advised me to get my speedometer checked had gotten his ticket dismissed (obviously by a different judge). Meanwhile, the speedometer-checked cost nearly as much as the fine!
I might have ruled against if I was the judge, but I would’ve at least given you props for doing your homework. To throw it out without really listening seems like a wasted opportunity to engage a young person who might not normally have been all that engaged with the legal system.
LOL 😝 Judges rule in the courtroom!
Right you are, Hazel!
😀
Good one, Mitch! A home run.
Yahoo Mail: Search, Organize, Conquer
Thank you, Ray.
A lesson well learned–never challenge a judge.
Ha, ha. Great story. When young I managed to get out of quite a few speeding tickets. No more! I am very careful now. 🙂
Judge’s eyes narrow. “Are you MOCKIN’ me with that suit, Mr Gambini?” 🤣
Great story, Mitch. I can just visualize it… the book makes it 😎
Wasn’t the Vega the one with the aluminum block?
Thanks, Darryl. And, yes, the Vega’s sand cast aluminum block seemed like a brilliant idea at first, but the cylinders were too soft and didn’t last–my Vega’s engine gave up the ghost around 70k miles or so.
Love the “My Cousin Vinnie” reference.
Superb narrative! You had me at “I courteously explained… and he gratefully gifted me with a speeding ticket.”
;>) Thanks, Jim!
Mitch, it’s scary how much we have in common. I also didn’t have a clue about oil changes and ran my poor parents’ car into the ground. I also had a Vega – avocado green. 🤢 I never went to court, though, although I got stopped an embarrassing number of times. I never got called “daughter” and never argued, just looked innocent and scared and probably batted my eyes. I never got a traffic ticket until I was older and no longer “cute.”
P. S. I would love to have witnessed your court performance. 😂
(Annienonymous. Stupid phone.)
;>) Alas, I was never “cute,” Annienonymous.
You’re admitting to once having owned an avocado Vega?!
(Hanging his head) “Yes, your honor, I am.”
As long as you didn’t have an AMC Pacer, AMC Gremlin, or a Ford Maverick . . .😁
Caught doing 60 in a 30 mph zone in early November, election day 1960. Went straight to court.
Judge: “That’ll be $60 or three days in jail.”
Me: “I don’t have $60.”
Judge: “Then it’s three days in jail.”
Me: “Would it be OK if I do the three days over Thanksgiving weekend so I don’t miss any classes?”
Judge; “Be here on Friday after Thanksgiving. Meanwhile, I’ll just keep your license here in the safe until you go home for Christmas .”
That was small town justice in Pella, Iowa in 1960. I actually only served two eight-hour workdays, cleaning bathrooms, and washing & waxing the two patrol cars.
Aw, sounds a bit like Mayberry, Rob.
Great bad boy story, Mitch! My husband once got a speeding ticket on his bicycle. He was going 30 mph in a 20mph school zone. He framed the ticket. 🙂
And he was on a bike?? That’s some serious speed! I can understand why he framed the ticket 🙂
Yes, a bike with pedals, but he was on a downhill grade. 🙂
Well done – and the ‘son’ thing is so funny!
Thanks, Mary!
My father had a cousin who could get himself off of just about any charge. Though he was self-educated, he was certainly a master of words. The judge usually just told him to get out, with no fines to pay.
Years ago I worked with a man who would have probably been in his forties. He didn’t know you had to put oil in a car and he blew his engine in a VW Bug. So you weren’t alone! 🙂 It did create a laughable (after the fact) memory to look back on, though. And it gave us a laugh, too. Thanks for sharing.
My pleasure.
Loved that story! Definitely worth the lesson to be able to tell the story.
Been there, done that, learned the hard way!!!
A funny story! Sounds like you were practicing for a stand-up routine in a courtroom. I especially liked your line “Maybe General Motors should pay the fine.” 🙂
;>)
I’ve been driving for almost fifty years and have never had a speeding ticket — and it’s not because I always adhere to the posted limit (I don’t). But I’m always scrupulously respectful and obsequious and penitent to whatever cop has pulled me over. It works every time it’s tried. 🙂
So, you think my being a smug, sarcastic twenty-year-old might have affected the outcome, BoB?
The thought occurred to me… 🙂
I courteously explained that he was wrong about many things, also that I wasn’t his “son,” and he gratefully gifted me with a speeding ticket.
Lol
Very funny, can’t say well deserved but…
Thanks, VND. ;>)
when you reached 45 o 97 miles at lease 90 mitch
Isn’t it funny that the older we get, the less we know we know.
;>) Yes, and knowing that is the truest thing we’ll ever know, Sandy.
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“my newly-adopted father”…so funny 😂
;>) Thanks, Meonn.
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