My Run-In with the Law

Turns out yesterday this blog was on crack. Not too uncommon on April fool's day I suppose. There were a lot of new readers. Well, I still have 996 facebook friends so no one made any money. Sorry (But not really, so I retract that apology). However, I would like to tell you that Wells County Nevada will soon be a little richer on my account. I'm not going to elaborate. I'm just going to say I am not a fan of pigs.

Let me tell you a story. This happened a little more than 3 years ago. It might sound like fiction, but I assure you, it is most unfortunately not.

I had a bad week. That's putting it lightly. I had broken off an engagement, tried to get my money back with the ring (successfully, but not without stepping on some toes), got a concussion iceskating, and was accused of stalking by mall security because I was in and out of the jewelry store so much. So I had it with Provo. On Sunday I just got in my car after church and started driving south. After I made it to about Cedar City I called my grandmother in Pasadena and said, "I just need to get out of here to cool off. Can I stay with you for the week?" Thankfully she obliged. We went to the Huntington Gardens, talked politics, strolled around the beautiful suburban LA scene, and had a jolly time. It was a much needed break.

But I was not that far away from Murphy's law and the age old adage that says, "When it rains it pours." I couldn't just cover up all my baggage with a brief SoCal vacation. 

Play ominous music here.

So I decided to take highway 50 across Nevada to get back home. For the record, most of northern Nevada is open, flat, lifeless desert. And, route 50 is probably one of the least traveled, most boring highways in America. So, I decided to make my trip as quick as possible (clearly a bad idea). I set the cruise control a 100mph. Well that was well and good until I saw the unmistakable outline of a cop cruiser coming towards me from the other direction. I knew it was going to turn around and follow me, but by the time he turned his lights on in pursuit he was about 2 miles behind me given my velocity. So, I reasoned with myself that he was probably chasing a jackrabbit or someone else, or that he'd stop after he realized how far behind he was. Bad move. All the while I was listening to Dishwalla (the Opaline CD on my iPod-product placement plug in the story). Well, after about 20 minutes I decided I'd humor him and pull over.

Pulling over was the right thing to do, but my next move was stupid. Not thinking very clearly I got out of the car. At the time I was wearing khaki pants, a black polo shirt and was barefoot. So immediately the cop is thinking, "DRUG LORD!" And the first things that came out of his mouth weren't pretty. They were along the lines of "F- you, I'm gonna shoot you! You f-ing stupid bleep! I hate your grandma and the jews! Blah blah blah, ethnic slur... you gypped me, yada, yada" It was the typical brash cop intimidation tactics. But I was pretty stoic and unphased, which probably pissed him off more. Then he said, "You put my your life and my life in danger," to which I thought, "No. You were the one who decided to chase me. You put your own life in danger. When you chase danger, danger gets you." But, fortunately for me I kept my mouth shut. Then another cruiser rolled up.

His partner tells me he was going to get a spike strip to stop me. Right. A honda civic with 218,000 miles on it, and a slightly refurbished engine going a touch over 100mph, and you were going to get a spike strip? So they cuffed me and threw me into the back of the cruiser. As I sat there they both had their guns still cocked and ready, pointing at the trunk of my car as if some little midget was in there ready to jump out with a Tommy gun when they opened it. Then they opened it and found my wetsuit and a scrabble board. Total shocker. The kid eagle scout and former LDS missionary who goes to BYU and just came back from visiting his grandmother doesn't have any drugs or fully armed midgets in his trunk. Just wetsuits and scrabble boards. Maybe they thought I stashed the drugs inside the little scrabble hourglass timer. Who knows.

So they took me down to the precinct and had my car towed. Once we got to the station he stopped lecturing me and took my finger prints and mug shot. Bail was set at 1264 dollars. He asked me if I wanted to pay it and leave or stay the night. So I stayed. But, before I could put on their oh so fine neon orange and white pinstripe jumpsuit I had to give them my clothes and shower. The shower was like a little squirt gun. The soap was as big as my fingernail. So I did the best I could as he watched. Then I got some cute matching neon orange boat shoes and dressed. It wasn't too bad. I could watch March Madness from just outside my cell in the common room, and was in there with only one other guy named Jimenez or something. Apparently he was drunk and had committed some domestic abuse. But, by law I was permitted two hot meals and a third one cold. Carl, a good inmate apparently, was the chef/cart pusher and he would bring the food and books. Things were looking on the up and up.

I managed to get a hold of a couple lawyers and friend and my dad and got the bail covered. But, before I left they had me arraigned. My ankles were shackled and my arms were cuffed as they put me in the back of a police SUV. Then they drove me one block over to the court house. After standing up and sitting down a couple times and getting handed a huge stack of paper with a line on the end with two boxes, one that said guilty, the other innocent, I checked the innocent box. Then they took me back to the jail, gave me my clothes and said I was free to go. But, I didn't have my car. So I asked, "Where is my car?" to which the lady at the desk said, "Oh, it was towed to Ely." Now I was in Eureka. I asked her how far away Ely was and she said an hour and a half east. So I then asked if I could get a ride over there to which she said, "Well if you wait 5-7 hours we could get one of the boys to take you after his shift or you could figure something out," to which I replied, "I'll just figure something out."

And I did. I went to the edge of town and hitchhiked with a rancher in a big truck. Little did he know I just got out of jail. He was nice enough and took me to Ely where he dropped me off at the first gas station per my request. Once I got into the gas station I asked the attendant for a phone book to look up the local tow places. She let me use the phone and I struck gold with the first number. I said:

"So I'm looking for my car."

"What's it look like?" he said, with a thick western drawl.

"It's a blue honda civic."

"97?"

"Yep."

"Well I jest got me one of them last night."

"Great. So where is your lot?"

"Where are you at? I kin come over and pick you up."

"Oh, the shell gas station."

How nice. Service with a smile and a pick up. I looked out the window and saw a beat up old white pickup truck and knew it was him. I hopped in and we started shooting the breeze. He was a nice guy, and took a liking to me. He said, "I like you so I'm only going to charge you 20 dollars for the lot fee. Usually it's 60." I was thinking, "Wow. Thanks. Maybe this won't turn out to be so expensive after all." Well that dream was shattered. When I came back to settle the bill he charged me 435 dollars and handed me the affidavit so I could make sure everything was still in the car. Turns out I was missing the most important thing. My wallet. I scrounged around but couldn't find it. So I paid him with my card number from memory. Then I asked him if I could use his phone. I knew where my wallet was. I called Eureka county jail and the desk lady answered the phone. I said, "Hey this is Michael....yes I was your guest last night...is my wallet there?" She said, "Sure is, I have it in a nice manilla envelope right here." Then I asked, "Is there any possibility someone might be able to bring it out to Ely," to which I got the pat reply, "Well maybe in the next 5-7 hours when someone gets off their shift." So I went back to the jail, driving without my wallet to get my wallet and get the heck out of Nevada. And I did. But only after having visited Eureka twice, Ely twice, and having paid to run the entire town of Eureka for a month. I later settled with the court and got the evading charge removed after a year of good behavior, but settled for the speeding charge. The lawyer cost me a grand. So the total cost of my indiscretion was about 3000 dollars. 

And that's the story of how I got thrown in jail. I wish it was an April fool's joke.

Engaged people and ridiculous pronouncements

Having been through the whole "engaged thing," and having heard advice from every qualified individual I know, as well as being in a marriage prep class at school, I find it interesting how newly engaged couples (and particularly the girl) will say things like, "I've met the perfect man." Or, "How lucky I am to be married to a guy who's perfect in every way." Or something to that effect. They put those kind of phrases in their facebook statuses, paint them on their car windows, or gloat about it to their friends.

What ever happened to that very appropriate phrase that goes something like this: Before marriage keep your eyes wide open, and after marriage keep them half shut? Honestly, that euphoric puppy dog love phase can dupe you if you're not careful. You shouldn't just fall in love with your heart, and your eyes, or even just your soul. You need to fall in love with your brain too. If you think your partner is perfect already, you're probably drinking too much nyquil, or have only been in abusive relationships.

Perhaps you have met a great guy or gal. But they have faults. And, they may seem easy to overcome now because you aren't really together. You're just dating. There's no civil mandate that joins you. But, I guarantee that even the simplest of things can and will become big issues if you don't address them now. So just remember that self-induced delirium doesn't produce the best matches. Use your brain. And open your eyes. And, after that, God Bless.

The Provo Divide

In the town of Provo there is a great divide.

I have spoken of it on many occasions with many friends. In Provo, and especially around Brigham Young University, there are a lot of young, college-aged types who are looking for a good education, maybe some work, and a good time. Rarely, do they get all three. And if they do, they are the lucky ones.

As a college town, you might expect there to be a lot of students. This is true. But BYU is not the only school here. There is UVSC (Soon to be UVU), along with many beauty schools and other schools I've never heard of. So, the pond is stocked full of tons of fish. You might think, "Well that's good. If you have lots of fish, you have a lot more options." True. But everyone thinks that way and it creates a mindset that is detrimental to anyone ever getting anywhere in life (socially speaking). With so many options girls and guys around here tend to be either extremely non-committal, or way too committal. The first mindset happens because the first group sees so many options, they become fickle, picky, stupid, and like playing games and become worthless flakes, and the second mindset happens because once the other group finds someone, they cling to them for dear life out of insecurity of the system regardless if the person is an absolute monstrosity. So if that's all we've got, it leads me to wonder, what about the middle? Are you telling me (or am I telling myself) that people either play the field or get married after 6 weeks? Yes. The middle is nearly non-existent.

And, that middle has the only people with any common sense. This middle believes that you can date someone to get to know them and see if something more is there without thinking of long-term all the time. The middle believes that you should date whoever you want, but that being on two dates together does not make you a couple. The middle dates for the sake of dating. And, learns about people, relationships, and what they want out of life in a normal way. They are the balance. But, where are they? Well they have fallen into the Provo divide. Into the deep chasm that is or was the normal way to interact. I am one of them. I am not super-committal (I'm not looking to get married after a couple days or weeks of knowing someone), and I'm not a flake (I don't get interested in one girl on one day and then totally psych myself out, convince myself she's ugly, stupid or uninterested and move on to my back log of other potentials). So where do I fit here? That's a good question. Perhaps I just need to go back to the real world (like any place outside of Utah).

We just met; now let's get married.

Ok I really need to share something that troubles me (and that is putting it lightly). The reason mind you, is because I am concerned for others' well-being (I know that might be hard to believe).

Let me explain what I find ridiculous in the past couple of weeks. For those of you who don't know, I am a Mormon and I attend church in a BYU 'singles ward' out here in Utah. A ward is comparable to a parish in the Catholic church, like a local group. Now in the Mormon, or, LDS church we have a lay clergy, meaning everyone has a calling and no one gets paid. One calling in our ward is one that entails creating a weekly newsletter called 'The BYU 57th Ward Weekly.' In the past it has had little interviews with people in the ward in the 'Getting to Know You' section as well as articles about new events and even dating advice columns and cartoons. However, for the past couple of weeks the only stories being printed have been engagements. Not that engagements aren't newsworthy, but the sheer volume is incredible. There have been over the past two weeks 5 announcements. Now I think that is great. For some. But some of the stories frighten me. One such story is as follows:



"Conveniently, Bo Curly's* car broke down. It was convenient because then Barbara Ann* gave him a ride home. He asked for her number and called her. She didn't call him back that night, but he called her the next morning anyway. They started dating, and although Barbara knew "it would work out" within the first several days of their relationship, the two dated for a month and a half before Bo proposed. Courtney Ann, as Barbara's roommate, sister, and sole local representative of the Ann family, sanctioned the marriage before Bo took definitive action. She even got to see the ring first.

Barbara knew Bo was going to propose. She even "stopped strategically" several times on a walk with him one night to give him the opportunity. Finally, when the two got back into the car, she gave up. It was just going to have to wait another day. As she started to walk away, he called her back and proposed."

What I love most out of the article is "although Barbara knew it would work out within the first several days..." To be honest that frightens me. Not that I don't believe it's possible, but highly improbable and possibly a delusional or delirious reaction. I sincerely hope they both find absolute bliss together, but I worry that they jumped the gun, maybe just a smidge. And the article was not the least bit romantic, but pretty robotic (ooolala robot love)...I just hope that was because of the author and not the actual story. But if that weren't enough here's another one:



"On August 22, Kate Rigadoo* and Frank Bebop* will be married in the Portland temple, the same temple where her family was sealed eight years ago. Kate and Frank both work at BYU Laundry. One day she went to the back looking for window cleaning supplies, and she needed help finding them. Frank came to the rescue with a friend of his; during conversation with Kate he learned that she had served a mission. The two struck up a conversation about their missions. Kate was sick for the next week, however, and was unable to attend work; Frank thought she had quit. When she returned to work, he came to find her. They went out that Friday and were exclusive by Sunday. Six weeks later, Kate and Frank were sitting in her apartment, talking and laughing after a long day. He paused in the conversation and asked, "Will you marry me?" "Yes," she replied. He double checked: "Really, you'll marry me?" They kissed, and then he got down on one knee and proposed again in Chinese. The next day, after they had picked a date, he proposed yet again - commitment style this time. "Will you marry me on August 22 at 3:00 p.m. in the Portland temple?" She has said yes every time."

The part I love about this one is "they went out that Friday and were exclusive by Sunday." That is awesome. I mean wow, they were so in sync. There's no way that any other time was needed. It was fate.

If these stories trouble you, then thank you for being reasonable. If you think they are cute and special, I kind of question your sanity and sense of normalcy. At any rate, I wish them all the best, and am sure as hell not going to follow their lead. I know God made the world in 6 days, so marriage in 6 weeks is not a biggie. Not at all. It's not like that decision is going to affect the rest of your life, or as Mormons believe, the rest of eternity. It could be a starter marriage...to get more experience maybe. Yeah, that's it.

*Names have been changed