I read a lot of Eric Peters’s columns on the death of automotive freedom in the USSA.  He’s one of the great commentators at http://lewrockwell.com/, the wonderful anti-state web powerhouse.  Maybe, someday when Lew lowers his standards a bit, you might find yours truly ramblin away there.

Eric spends a good bit of time writing about the stupidity of Amerikan traffic laws.  I think he did a piece recently on mobile radar/speed trailers.  The police put these idiotic contraptions in odd places in an effort to harass the driving public.

(You’ve seen this thing.)

I was on my way home from liquor stor…er…candy shop one fine afternoon when I encountered another of these radar RoboCops.  It was placed at the entrance of a lovely residential neighborhood I enjoy cutting through occasionally on my way home.   I actually stopped in the road to take the above picture. Thus, the machine had the effect of causing me to cease speeding and start blocking traffic – dumb robot.  Usually, if I am fairly confident no actual officers are around I hit the accelerator and make the machine stroke out (as best I can driving a 10,000 lb anvil).  Some models have blue lights that flash angrily when you hit a certain illegal speed.

As a conditional word, I almost always drive as safely and efficiently as possible.  My number one goal is to get where I going, number two is getting there without endangering anyone.  You’ll recall that George Carlin once said something to the effect: “Have you ever noticed that anyone who drives slower than you is an idiot, and anyone driving faster is a maniac?”  This is really true.  I’ve driven all over the good old USSA and can make the following observation.  Nearly all drivers may be classified into three categories (about equal thirds, too): 1) those of us who are competent and courteous; 2) those who are completely unqualified to drive and struggle to control their vehicles; and 3) those who just don’t give a damn.  Where do you fall?

Stop sign, stop sign.

Oh yes, about 30 seconds after I passed the radar R2D2 I came upon a deserted intersection and proceeded to turn right.  As there were no other cars anywhere around and visibility was excellent I confidently did a California role.  As I made the turn I saw a County Marshall standing in someone’s yard (likely there to harass them for violating some ridiculous, cookie-cutter ordinance).  He looked at me and pointed and said, “That’s a stop sign.”  My title is now explained.  Had I been a smarted person I could have made some witty remark.  As is, I just rolled my eyes and waved him off dismissively.  After 3 seconds of quick reflection I drove away speedily.  He had a badge and a gun after all.  I generally have, as a result of my profession, a good relationship with many area law officers, many of whom are decent people.  I did not recognize this dude and I did not like his lecturing attitude.  Sensitive me.

My escape was successful but hindered by the one blemish in this quaint, out of place, New England-feeling subdivision (other than the cops and their robots) – speed humps – lots of them.  A speed hump, for those you fortunate enough not to know is a speed bump which has been stretched out about six feet.  Like the robots they are intended to slow a vehicle by causing the driver and passengers discomfort.  Torture, really.  And, totally unneeded in this particular place.  The streets curve constantly, back and forth, and the terrain is all hills.  Physics dictate that all but the most foolhardy will obey the posted speed limit out of necessity. 

Speed bumps and humps kill numerous people ever year – mainly because they slow responding ambulances and cost precious, life-saving seconds.  That’s a rant for another day.  Speed humps, robots, and stop signs.  Oh my!