Everything is Different

Went to Brady Street Festival yesterday to catch the Wooldridge Brothers. Told TeenZombie that I had seen these guys in a couple of different bands, starting back when I was in college, we were all young and skinny and dinosaurs roamed the earth. He instantly dubbed them "PreCambrian Band". Smart ass. Where does he get that?




They did a nice pair of sets for a crowd that seemed to mostly consist of friends and family, and me. They also did some choice covers, even though Zelmo was nowhere to be seen (Ballad of Peter Pumpkinhead, Picture Book, and a Lennon song). I had some margaritas. the jets flew by overhead.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about. Wanted to talk about the war. Well, not really, but that's an Arlo Guthrie line, and it was too opportune not to use it. Actually, I wanted to talk about misbehavior.

Here's a story. Happenened quite a few years ago; I used to shoot bar darts at a local pub, and our team was kind of legendary. Mainly because we were far more concerned about the alcohol than the darts, but whatever. One night, after we had finished our matches, one of our team suggested we visit another bar near Marquette.

Once we got there, we got beer, and pumped the juke full of money, and were enjoying the night, when the POLICE descended on the bar. Being near a college, they were raiding it for underage drinking. Not being underage, we showed no concern as they lined everybody up to check IDs at the door on the way out. What the hell, we had beers to finish...

Eventually, most of us exited. most of us. R and I were finishing our pitcher, and when we went to leave, one of the officers stopped us. "They didn't get into line!" he exclaimed, refusing to look at our proof of age and insisting we remain in the bar. I said "We had beers to finish!" the bartenders laughed ruefully and turned away.

Of course, I was indignant. Of course. I was a radical, not like now. We had been doing nothing illegal, and merely did not show what this officer felt was sufficient obedience to his AU-THOR-I-TAH!!

Here's where thing started to get twisted. One of our friends, P, noticing we weren't behind them on the sidewalk, returned to the front door to see what was up. A cop stopped him; he explained he was just going to tell us where they were going; the cop responded "Those guys aren't going anywhere for a while." When P tried again, talking to us behind the cop, he was grabbed, cuffs were slapped on his wrists, and they sat him on a bar stool away from everybody else, where now P sat glowering in rage.

Now here is where I missed my opportunity. My only defense is that I had been drinking. You see, what I should have done here is told the officers I wanted to call my attorney. Regardless of what they said, All I had to do was call across the room "Hey P!" P, you may realize, was an attorney. He was the only one handcuffed. He also received a disorderly conduct citation, which was dismissed by the DA the next day. P's brother is also a police officer. P. is also clearly Hispanic.

But at this point, my friend R was trying to defuse the situation, as is tradition. He took his ID and mine to a different cop, explaining "look, we're not underage, we didn't do anything wrong, here's our IDs, what can we do to go along?" The cop snatched the IDs so she could run checks. We were worse off than before.

Eventually, one of the cops called my name, but I didn't hear; called again louder and more irritated. Well so was I. "WHAT!?!?" I yelled back.

"HOW LONG AGO DID YOU LIVE ON LOVER'S LANE?" My last name is kind of common.

"NEVER LIVED ON LOVER'S LANE!! WRONG FUCKIN M*****!"

At this point, I overheard the cop who initially blocked our exit arguing with another.

"I don't care, he's busted!"

"But he's got to have DONE something!"

Apparently I am a dissident. Fortunately, there were no tasers at the time.

Finally, another cop came over with our IDs, smiling like he was doing us a favor, telling us we could go now. Thanks, man. I'll remember that THE NEXT TIME I DON'T DO SOMETHING ILLEGAL!!

A few minutes later, P was cited and released also, and was furious. The ironic thing is, all the cops had to do was follow us to our cars and give us breathalyzer tests.

Now, I don't want to give the impression that I believe racism was involved. Haven't really thought about it until the Gates kerfuffle last week. But now that I recall, the only person handcuffed in that bar on that night was my Hispanic friend, whose only offense was trying to talk to me.

Me and R, whose only offense was to believe that we were not breaking any laws and as such, had nothing to fear from a policeman.

The idea being promulgated in some quarters that we are obligated to not talk back or argue with a policemen at any time is inherently fascistic. We were acting legally, if insolently; as was Professor Gates, by most accounts. But insolence is not a crime in America.

Not yet.