One step closer to Bin Laden
It had been a long day, and now I was going to the airport to pick up my son. What a nice way to end the day. A difficult vasectomy reversal in the morning, patients in the afternoon, a few phone calls. I was going to relax and spend some quality time driving home with my 20 year old son. Now that he lives out-of-town, these moments are few and far between. Moments to be cherished. As he was here for a week, I knew he would be bringing a few suitcases. Jordan always travels home with gifts for everyone. He's just that kind of kid. With that in mind, I decided to drive the 9 year old plain white, bench seat, hand-crank window pick-up truck, Dorothy. Yes her name is Dorothy. She was driven primarily by friends and family for moves, trips to the dump, hauling furniture, etc. This was exactly why we had her- for those special occasions where a little extra hauling was in order, and I was hoping tonight would be no exception.
As I approached the airport (I do not want to mention the Tucson Airport by name), newly remodeled at I'm sure a cost of many tens of millions of dollars, I received a call from my wife that has become too common - the flight was a bit delayed but he would be here soon. I decided to drive on ahead and do the usual drive around the airport circle until he arrived. The weather was nice, the music was good, and it was only a matter of time. What a great way to relax.
First pass - smiling at the traffic cops (keeping us safe from bad guys, I thought) when I noticed something out of the ordinary. A bright light behind me- almost as if a flashing light. Wait, it was a flashlight held by someone that was approaching me. Could I be going faster than the posted 15 miles an hour? Did I not offer the cursory nod the traffic cop? Was it one of my friends in law enforcement coming to say "Hey Sheldon, how are you?"
I slowly pulled over (you really can't slow down when you are going 15 miles an hour). Then he approached my window. A tall, somewhat muscular Airport policeman in a pressed uniform, asking to see my usual ID, etc. "What seems to be the problem, officer?" I asked. It just so happens, he said, that the tag on the pick-up had expired the previous month.
Was I supposed to get it renewed, or was that my wife's job?
Probably mine. Oh well, no big deal. Just a warning to go get it done, I assumed. Heck, there were people out there who wanted to kill us. To cut off our heads, to damage our economy, to destroy everything we hold dear. And this was just an expired tag, and only one month at that. But wait, there were other armed officers now surrounding the car. One behind me, and another at the passenger door grilling me about the car, tags, licensing, etc. Wow, I laughed at first - "Must be a slow night". Apparently not the thing to say.
There I sat, with armed police around me for 45 minutes, while they checked on everything to be sure that this middle aged, graying, slightly overweight urologist was not some horrible criminal, waiting to do evil deeds at the airport.
It seemed like the time to mention that I am one of the good guys so he can relax. I work with the local SWAT team -- I teach terrorism preparedness, I am on the local police foundation...Heck, I have even done vasectomies on a bunch of their fellow Airport police. We even know each other by our first names!
I guess this did not help. My thought was that probably the word had gone out from the FBI -- "Watch out for an older, Caucasian male urologist in an old plain pickup with a tag one month expired, trying to pick up his son. Warning, this guy with a mildly receding hairline could be dangerous."
Finally, they left me. Embarrassed. Alone. Told to drive and drive slowly, and to get my tag renewed immediately. Did he mean now at 10 PM? But before he left, he handed me a special gift. A note thanking me for all the hundreds of hours I donate to help the local police? A little message telling me how much they appreciate all I do for his fellow airport officers?
No, it was a ticket. But not just any ticket. It was the mother of all tickets. I was now being charged with not having a valid renewal tag, driving with an expired tag, and most importantly, not having the tag in my possession. Wow, he must have been in a bad mood. Fight with his wife, too much starch in his shorts, not get the promotion, not enough fiber?
Whatever it was, he nailed me and nailed me good. Over $1000 in fines. Hey, at least I was safe. My highly trained, armed airport police doing what they do best, keeping our country safe from terrorists and evil-doers....and those potentially dangerous middle-aged men with expired license plate tags. Good job, Officer. Tucson is safer tonight thanks to you.
I know Bin Laden and his clan are just a little more worried; that we are just one step closer.
Run and hide, Osama, if you can.
As I approached the airport (I do not want to mention the Tucson Airport by name), newly remodeled at I'm sure a cost of many tens of millions of dollars, I received a call from my wife that has become too common - the flight was a bit delayed but he would be here soon. I decided to drive on ahead and do the usual drive around the airport circle until he arrived. The weather was nice, the music was good, and it was only a matter of time. What a great way to relax.
First pass - smiling at the traffic cops (keeping us safe from bad guys, I thought) when I noticed something out of the ordinary. A bright light behind me- almost as if a flashing light. Wait, it was a flashlight held by someone that was approaching me. Could I be going faster than the posted 15 miles an hour? Did I not offer the cursory nod the traffic cop? Was it one of my friends in law enforcement coming to say "Hey Sheldon, how are you?"
I slowly pulled over (you really can't slow down when you are going 15 miles an hour). Then he approached my window. A tall, somewhat muscular Airport policeman in a pressed uniform, asking to see my usual ID, etc. "What seems to be the problem, officer?" I asked. It just so happens, he said, that the tag on the pick-up had expired the previous month.
Was I supposed to get it renewed, or was that my wife's job?
Probably mine. Oh well, no big deal. Just a warning to go get it done, I assumed. Heck, there were people out there who wanted to kill us. To cut off our heads, to damage our economy, to destroy everything we hold dear. And this was just an expired tag, and only one month at that. But wait, there were other armed officers now surrounding the car. One behind me, and another at the passenger door grilling me about the car, tags, licensing, etc. Wow, I laughed at first - "Must be a slow night". Apparently not the thing to say.
There I sat, with armed police around me for 45 minutes, while they checked on everything to be sure that this middle aged, graying, slightly overweight urologist was not some horrible criminal, waiting to do evil deeds at the airport.
It seemed like the time to mention that I am one of the good guys so he can relax. I work with the local SWAT team -- I teach terrorism preparedness, I am on the local police foundation...Heck, I have even done vasectomies on a bunch of their fellow Airport police. We even know each other by our first names!
I guess this did not help. My thought was that probably the word had gone out from the FBI -- "Watch out for an older, Caucasian male urologist in an old plain pickup with a tag one month expired, trying to pick up his son. Warning, this guy with a mildly receding hairline could be dangerous."
Finally, they left me. Embarrassed. Alone. Told to drive and drive slowly, and to get my tag renewed immediately. Did he mean now at 10 PM? But before he left, he handed me a special gift. A note thanking me for all the hundreds of hours I donate to help the local police? A little message telling me how much they appreciate all I do for his fellow airport officers?
No, it was a ticket. But not just any ticket. It was the mother of all tickets. I was now being charged with not having a valid renewal tag, driving with an expired tag, and most importantly, not having the tag in my possession. Wow, he must have been in a bad mood. Fight with his wife, too much starch in his shorts, not get the promotion, not enough fiber?
Whatever it was, he nailed me and nailed me good. Over $1000 in fines. Hey, at least I was safe. My highly trained, armed airport police doing what they do best, keeping our country safe from terrorists and evil-doers....and those potentially dangerous middle-aged men with expired license plate tags. Good job, Officer. Tucson is safer tonight thanks to you.
I know Bin Laden and his clan are just a little more worried; that we are just one step closer.
Run and hide, Osama, if you can.
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I actually have a question regarding.A term I've heard,known as andropause.I guess two questions,do men have it?,and.What causes it? I hope this is a correct link and someone can answer my questions,thank you.
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