Hi. It feels like January in New York. I don't know what else to tell you.
Actually I do.
• I'm going to try to post something special this Friday. Not quite a Pointcast, but more than just a playlist, it's a bundle of songs inspired by 01.20.09. Let's call it the Obama Sutra.
• Find, Friend me: Search for Tommy Himself on Facebook.
• If you've been reading The Sticking Point long enough, you know I've got issues with the useless, inadequate Forest Hills P.D. Briefly, I live in a neighborhood where drivers race through red lights and stop signs, speed the wrong way down one-way streets, and create a warzone for any pedestrian who ventures past the curb. The local police enforce only those infractions that result in Zero Confrontation: past-due inspection stickers and expired meter parking. When you are lazy, useless, and out-of-shape it is far easier to slip a summons under a windshield wiper than to pull over Live Human Strangers and confront them on their infractions.
Here's a short story. The beginning is true. The ending, however, is creative license -- a writer's embellishment.
Walking back home this morning after some errands, I stopped at a curb and waited for the WALK light. A few feet to my right, a driver approached the intersection and stopped. She had the RED, I got my WALK, and I went. I was a few steps shy of the other curb when I could see in my peripheral vision that the driver began creeping forward and then just pulled right out into the intersection. I turned around and watched her make a left turn against the light... crossing directly in front of a squad car! It took me just five seconds to realized the cops weren't going to do, well, their jobs, so I raised my palms in the air and opened my mouth a bit -- the internationally recognized "What The Fuck?!" gesture. Passenger Cop saw it and we made eye contact. He formed his own "Wuddamye Gonna Do?" expression with fat cheeks and lazy eyes as Driver Cop stepped on the gas and continued their "patrol."
When the cops drove past me I flipped two middle fingers at them. Sure enough, they pull over to address this personal issue. As I'm refusing to show them my identification, I ask them why they thought my fingers were more of a public threat than the car running the red light. While they struggle for a wiseass response I say, "I have no more time to waste with you fucktards, I have to go." Then I give them the fingers again and moonwalk three entire blocks home.
[posted with ecto]