Warrant

I need to explain my comment in the discussion at that end of this post. I was around 20-21 years old when I got my second speeding ticket in my hometown. (I’ve only had two tickets ever, anywhere.) When the officer gave me the paper, I put it in the center compartment of my car, between the front seats.

Some time later, I think a couple of months, my dad asked me about it. “Have you taken care of that speeding ticket?”

“Oh crap!” I answered. I had completely forgot about it. We both went out to my car and pulled out the ticket. The court date was passed.

My dad got his coat and said, “Let’s go deal with this, now.”

He drove me downtown to the courthouse. At the time, my dad knew nearly every sole in my hometown. (This was a result of him having lived in that town for most of his life, and of his being a salesman for the in-town radio station.) We went into the office and he talked to the man he knew behind the counter. He explained what we were there for, and asked what we needed to do about it.

Turns out, there had been a warrant issued for my arrest that very morning. Note: don’t miss a court date — judges take that stuff very serious. No officer had picked up the warrant yet, but if we had waited a day, or maybe just a few hours, I could have had a police cruiser pull into our driveway. I could have been arrested.

I still think it’s kind of absurd that missing a court date for a speeding ticket can get one arrested — how badly could that screw up one’s life?

But, anyway, my dad and I went through all the channels and red tape. We went to the assistant DA’s office and “turned myself in” as she told the judge later. We went to court with the DA, I stood before the judge, and in the end, the warrant was dismissed. I had to pay court costs, but that was it. Even the original speeding ticket (55 mph in a 45 limit zone) was reduced to something minimal. (I don’t remember what exactly it was reduced to, but it meant no points on my license.) This all took around three or four hours.

Now, if you think this came about because my dad/family is wealthy or has “connections” (other than simple friendships), you’d be mistaken. My family was no more than middle-class, and being a salesman for a radio station doesn’t give you any kind of leverage or lubricant for changing law-folks’ minds.

My dad and I were just straight up and honest about everything. My dad’s knowing people just meant that they took him at his word, and they figured his son couldn’t be too bad a boy. Other than one previous speeding ticket, (in a different town — a friggin’ speed trap, that), I had no record or reputation for being trouble.

The DA and judge took a liking to me, through my dad, because I owned up to “being stupid” for forgetting the ticket. I didn’t try to weasel out of anything. We just asked, “What do we need to do?”

I like to think that I’ve lived up to their good will for me. But that situation does give me a little bit of “bad boy” cred. When someone accuses me of being a white bread goody two shoes, I can throw this in their face and say, “Ha! I’ve had a warrant out for my arrest. I was once a criminal. Sort of. Almost.”

Bullgrit