It was the Summer of 1999. I was but twenty years old back then. The world was my oyster or something. That summer I went to a music festival in Tanglewood Park. It’s been so long ago now I can’t remember anything about the festival other than the fact it was hot as hell. I went with my friend Jess, and I got the worst sunburn of my life. The band we were hyped about seeing that day was The Nixons. I don’t remember anything about their set. I’m sure when they played “Sister” it was forgettable amazing.
The only reason I mention the Summer of Limp Bizkit is what happened to me following the festival. Since I was twenty I didn’t touch any alcohol that day. It was a half hour drive from my house to Tanglewood Park. This would be a rather forgetful drive for most people, but unfortunately my means of transportation was a 1988 Hyundai Excel (aka The Blue Cloud). My first car earned that nickname because it was blue and it produced a lot of smoke. Much of that said smoke was actually exhaust inside the vehicle. There aren’t enough vegan organic meals to go around to make that a healthy lifestyle.
This looks a lot like my first car. Just add smoke.
I can’t exaggerate enough how bad of a car this was to drive. I can’t believe I drove it on the interstate. For example, the car wouldn’t idle so I had to give it gas when I stopped at a traffic light or else the car would stall. I had to continuously add oil to the engine because it was burning a quart a week. The Blue Cloud wasn’t exactly environmentally friendly. I’m sure my carbon footprint was the size of the Grand Canyon. To put it mildly the car wasn’t much of a status symbol. The day of the festival I was just happy it didn’t break down before I reached my destination.
In 1999, I was even skinnier than I am today. I guess it makes sense a cop might pull me over for being a sunburned ginger leaving a concert.
After I left the concert I drove home alone. As I was making my way back to I-40 a police officer pulled me over. This was a little unsettling. It was the first time the pigs the police had ever pulled me over. I pulled over next to an old church. The police officer informed me that I had pulled in front of a truck at a stop light. The police officer’s story was a complete fabrication. The car was so dangerous to drive I wouldn’t pull in front of a bike let alone a truck. The Blue Cloud was a deathtrap. The Hyundai would fold like a wet blanket in any kind of collision.
Basically what the fascist pig police officer was doing was acting on a hunch. I was driving a piece of crap car, by myself, and I was leaving a concert. We all know that music festivals are a mecca for beer guzzlers and drug addicts. In other words, I was profiled. The police officer thought it might be a good idea to see if I was under the influence. It’s still annoys me that he made up the story about me pulling in front of a car, but he didn’t give me a ticket.
My guess is that the cop was shocked when he found out that I hadn’t been drinking. Plus, the driver of the car was a polite twenty year old young man who was somewhat educated. My only crime was driving The Blue Cloud. Hey, if Al Gore had his way the cop would have arrested me for polluting the environment.
My point is that cops profile people all the time. People make decisions based on the best information available (well, sometimes). If a cop in Arizona pulls someone over and they can’t speak English, they don’t have a drivers license, or don’t have registration, there’s likely a problem. On my drive home that day I wasn’t angry that I had been pulled over for no reason. I appreciated the fact that the cops were looking for drunk drivers. My inconvenience is a lot better than vehicular homicide.
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