Okay,
as promised...Hairy Face-an'...
The Case of the Fuzzy Solar Flare
August 3, 2012: I was alone in my apartment in Snohomish, Washington, with some money to burn, just before midnight. I got up, warmed up the Nissan, got out of Snohomish onto SR9 going north to Arlington to hit up the Walmart there. It was a clear, beautiful, very warm night. I decided to leave because TV reception was bonkers, as was radio reception...and the silence was unbearable. I got what I wanted at Walmart, back onto SR9 south...and I admit, I was doing about 70 on a bare highway.
I approached the overpass which crossed US2 and another set of lights were ahead of me...a 4x4 Ford truck. I was doing 65 then, smoothly. It didn't look like anything but an ordinary 4-door 4x4...but after we eclipsed, the truck turned around, followed at speed, hit the gumballs inside the front grille.
Since when did Johnny Law start using 4x4s here? Okay, over I went, on with my Sweet Smile, window down, asking "Is there a problem, officer?"
The officer, a good 50 years old & tall, was a WaSP: Washington State Patrol, Smokey hat, Elvis Prim uniform and all. Not good; they
never issue warnings...just tickets.
They even enforced 'helmet laws', despite the fact Washington
had no helmet laws. Fascists.
"Yep, you were going too fast. 65 in a 55."
"I'm not one to counter you, but it couldn't be; my speedometer indicated 57 and is accurate. I was just going by the speedo."
Coldly: "Well, my radar got you at 65."
"Well, if that truly is the case, I'm sorry. I can have the speedo looked at tomorrow."
Blankly: "I gotta write you up. I need your (
paperwork)."
"Okay...I understand". Not really...I was never good at hubris.
F. And I got the ticket: $146!
Jize...made my politesse, got back onto SR9 and did the last 3 miles home. Just went straight to bed.
It was 1:30 am on 4 August now.
Once I got up, during dishes, I asked:
how can I discredit the radar? They're not perfect...and 20 minutes later, as I was clearing out the fridge...it hit. The epiphany leading to a plan! Heck, Angela Lansbury's Ms. Fletcher would wake up during her sleep with
her epiphanies...here
I was, scraping lettuce out of the crisper.
Aristocracy and pauperdom. Believe it.
Online I went: For the next 90 minutes, I went all over the internet, in a t-shirt & shorts
in an oppressively-hot section of the Victorian house I was living in, asking "Can solar flares affect speed radar?" Several sites, including NASA, said "Yes" (
remember, this was in 2012)! Now...I screen-shot all the data, printed it up, URLs and all. Off to another part of NASA, regarding sunspot activity for the past 24. Yep, there was my time in zulu...Dang! An X3 solar flare all day yesterday...
and still going! I printed all off, put it in a folder, printed up a subpoena for the officer (
name, badge number, hat size and all), went straight to the courthouse annex in Monroe--
lawfully, of course!--had the clerk fine a contested hearing and register the subpoena.
That was set, then she said "Just go out to Lewis, take a right, cross the tracks, take a right on Main, it's number (
whatever). You can serve the secretary there, you don't need to serve the officer directly". And with a sincere "thank you", I was off. Minutes later, I parked at WSP, got out, went in, served the secretary, easy-as-pie. And I was gone. 14 days to go...
The Waiting is the hardest part.
Wait...didn't someone sing that once? But The Day came. I was nervous, sure, which isn't a bad thing. It's better to be nervous than overconfident. Got there on time, listened in on others' cases; of course, my case was last. Judge called my name. "Present, Your Honor!" He said "Come Forward"...I did. He then called the State Trooper's name...called it three times, loudly. Nothing, After a pause, the judge said "It appears the Trooper isn't present, so you win your case by default". My wallet was so happy, it was doing somersaults in my pocket.
But the gavel didn't drop yet. I sensed something more...
"I see you have a folder with you; since you're the last case today, entertain me. What defense did you have planned?"
"If it pleases the court, Your Honor...", I began, trying to sound like Perry Mason, "I have in this folder data compiled from the internet, from the official NASA website, with two issues addressed: one, is traffic radar susceptible to X-class solar flares, to which NASA replied 'emphatically yes'; two, during the time of the stop, was there solar flare activity, to which NASA again replied "yes, there was X3-class solar flare activity at the time. This was further evidenced by the fact that just prior to the stop, I had been experiencing considerable radio and TV interference that night which made listening or viewing very impractical. I have it assembled here for your review, if it pleases Your Honor". Even Raymond Burr would've lifted an eyebrow and issued an impressed smirk.
The judge took the file, opened it, perused
...hmmm...frequent brow-raising, an impressed look. I maintained my cool, said nothing. After 90 seconds, the judge closed the file. "You compiled quite a comprehensive, impressive batch of data here. This doesn't affect my verdict...but I'll say off-the-record that
had the officer been here, this data still would've won you the case. Congratulations on your victory".
"Thank you, Your Honor". The gavel fell.
I was dismissed so I performed a military about-face (
that got pounded well into me by the US Army) and began to walk to the doors.
"Uh, Mr. (
my name)?"
I turned. "Your Honor?"
"Let's hope we don't meet under these circumstances again". He then winked.
I gave a slight smile. "Of course, and thank you, Your Honor". He smiled. I was free!
I got out into the hot day, into the car, now sweating well, drove off and found a store with old-fashioned, hand-scooped ice cream. Celebration Time! Got a cone with 3 scoops of sherbet: raspberry, orange and lime. Sweet Victory. Eat
that, Hamilton Burger and Lieutenant Tragg!