When the Wildman called and asked a favor of course I answered “yes.”
Without listening first, such is friendship among those who ride. His friend
needed a ride to get his paycheck that afternoon, his car was down, could I take
him to get it? “Sure, no problem,” then he added it was in Newark. No one goes
to Newark, it was still a burned out hull 7 years after the 1967 riots, what was
the Wildman thinking? But a friend in need is a friend indeed, so I made
arrangements to pick up his friend on my R90S. I wanted as little time in
Newark as possible, and off we went. Now only 12 miles from where I lived, it
was a seriously old, decaying, and very prejudiced city, everyone avoided it
when possible. So off we went, on a picture perfect New Jersey fall afternoon,
grey, with a chance of rain, cool but not cold, and no trace of sunshine.
Riding east on Route 22, we got off at Freylinghausen Avenue, just where it goes
from 3 lanes to 2, creating a traffic jam, and there were the flashing lights.
Now I hear light travels faster than sound, but not in police cars, you always
hear them first. So pulling over, Sgt. Attitude gets out of his cruiser. And
the battle for my soul, my license begins. This guy hates motorcycles, those
who ride them, and anyone born on a day ending in Y. As he looks over my
license and registration, he begins to berate my bike, telling me at 120 mph his
440 Magnum will run up my tail pipes. This guy wanted to race...I just wanted
to leave. Offering little resistance, never argue with an idiot, you will never
win, he writes the ticket, delays us just enough so we barely get the paycheck,
and we flee Newark for good. Our good. But cheesed off, first my speed was not
that high, secondly I was targeted on a bike, and third, I was to appear in
court, in Newark, at 830pm on December 24th. Christmas Eve, even in Newark. A
must appear box checked, and for the next few weeks I fumed over it. Until the
week before Christmas I called to confirm...court on Christmas Eve? The girl
who answered the phone, asked for the citation number, and told me it didn’t
exist. When I further explained about the December 24th 830pm court date, she
laughed. “We’re closed on Christmas Eve, all day. Somebody was funnin’ with
you, there is no ticket, no badge number, and no court. Merry Christmas.” Sgt.
Attitude had gotten me, somewhere in a dingy squad room he was telling others
how he had written me a ticket, and I was probably stupid enough to show up, on
Christmas Eve. He had run up my tail pipes, just not at 120.
Leaving Gainesville under the watchful eye of the Florida State Police, I
felt safe at 55mph, scared at 56, petrified above 60. Revenue enhancement per
the 55 mph speed limit was creating revenue spikes in many states, Florida was
no exception. But somehow I got careless outside DeFuniak Springs, and got
pulled over. Maybe it was my Jersey tags on again the R90S, or creating a
public endangerment at 60, but again the flashing lights told the story. After
writing me up, he told me again since I was out of state, I would have to a
personal appearance. He didn’t care that I was on my way to New Mexico, the law
was the law. Reminding me of Newark, all over again. I made Albuquerque fine,
no further police escorts, and was fuming over going back to Florida. It was
then John pointed out the court date, November 31st. Even in New Mexico
calendars only had 30 days in November, so I wrote to the court, telling them I
was busy on the 31st, my calendar was full, please advise. And never heard
back, either the cop became a joke, I was the butt of the joke, or there really
were 31 November days in Florida, either way I was off the hook. And would ride
again, to receive more side of the road introductions from law enforcement,
adding revenue to many state and local coffers. A sad tale of two tickets, does
the term I have a badge and a gun mean anything to you?
Pilate had power as governor over Jerusalem. Weak in character, he wanted
nothing to do with Jesus. But to avoid any more public outcries, had him
scourged, hoping the Jews would feel that was enough. Declaring three times he
was innocent, to the cries “crucify him!” he finally relented. He knew Jesus was
innocent, but was afraid for his position and reputation. Think of politicians
today. He even made a sign, “The King of the Jews,” upsetting them more, the
Jews would admit he might be a king, but not the king. But he said, “ I have
written what I have written.” Déjà vu ahead to Newark and Defuniak Springs.
Proclaiming the truth, just not knowing it. And we all know the story of Good
Friday, and of Easter. But we forget how Jesus laid down his life, no one could
or did take it from him. Perhaps enforcing the scripture “greater love has no
man than to lay down his life for another.” To the end, Jesus was in control.
Innocent, no fault found, yet convicted. Unfairly tried by those he came to
save, giving “to protect and serve” a whole new meaning, rather than the one
mimicked on police cars. Times and dates matter to him, and so do we. A fact
to remember on Good Friday, and every day. It was Good Friday for me when I got
pulled over, I couldn’t see what was ahead, but God knew. And my day of
vindication, my Easter, was when I was forgiven by the courts. My license
resurrected. Jesus rose again so we can be too, daily and eternally. He is
with us always, even until the end. He says so, so it must be true. A fact I
remember every December 24th around 830pm. And celebrate on November 31st. If I
could only find it on the calendar.
We need the police, they have a tough job, just look at their customer
base. But only Jesus forgives, the law brings death. Or court. On Judgment
Day I will be found innocent, my Jesus paying the fine, forgiving me. Clean and
white as snow, even in New Jersey where it is light grey. Even in burned out
Newark, sunny Florida, and everywhere men are found. Your sins are forgiven,
beautiful words to hear, I know. Both in court and the heavenly courts. Turn
to Jesus today, he understands lynch mob mentality, prejudice, and injustice.
He is love, and all the sins of my tickets are wiped away.
Come to think of it, I should have been suspicious of Sgt. Attitude. If he
had really run my license, he would have found I was on probation, going to
Court appointed traffic school in Rahway State Prison. Too many points...Let
Jesus resurrect your life and maybe your license today. Start new and fresh
every morning with his blessings. Remember the date he came into your life, and
if it falls on a November 31st, there’s this clerk in Florida who can advise you
on the calendar. I find it easier just to trust Jesus. You never know who
you’ll meet along the road, just ask Paul. A public service message from
another rider who cares.
love with compassion,
Mike
matthew25biker.blogspot.com