On Speeding Tickets

Did I mention that I got a pretty big speeding ticket in the backwoods of Maine (on the “Airline”) while on my way to that session in Boston last month?

Some facts and observations:

• This is my first speeding ticket in more than seven years. Hell, I haven’t even been pulled over in more than seven years, except on the random “we’re checking everyone’s registration and inspection sticker” things. I’ve had at least half a dozen speeding tickets since I started driving, and have “gotten out” of several more, but apparently the “slower pace of life” in Maritime Canada has affected me, since I haven’t had a ticket (until now) since I moved out here. I suspect this partly due to my being all about the journey these days (and subsequently not being in a hurry to get anywhere), and partly because in Nova Scotia highway traffic enforcement is done by the RCMP. Having grown up in Ontario, where the highway stuff was handled by the provincial police, and the Mounties were only involved in very serious, large scale crimes, it still freaks me out to think of getting pulled over by them. (For Americans, this would be kind of a like a small state contracting highway policing to the FBI–you would feel like you were in real, federal, trouble when you were getting a simple speeding ticket, you know?)
• Ridiculously unlikely as it may be, this is the second time I’ve been tagged for speeding while I was listening to The Tragically Hip‘s song At The Hundredth Meridian. (I kind of always figured Fairies Wear Boots would be the one to get me a second time, but I guess I listen to a lot less Sabbath these days.)
• I once got out of a speeding ticket because I was listening to King Crimson‘s Moonchild when the cop came to the window for my license and registration. This was in the Ottawa Valley.
• I once got out of a speeding ticket because I had three tuxedos in the car, and a good line of bull. This was also in the Ottawa Valley.
• I once got out of a speeding ticket because I had picked up a couple of hitch-hikers, and one of them was a consummate actress with grift sense. This was either in Tennessee or Georgia–memory fades.
• This latest ticket is not the first time I’ve had the “…and the first car I passed in more than 45 minutes on the rural highway was a police car” ticket. The other one, when I was sixteen, was a lot more expensive. And possibly even more rural than backwoods Maine.
• According to their FAQ, the state of Maine does not notify your “home state” or your insurance company of tickets, so getting this ticket should only be as expensive as the actual fine–which was quite enough money, thank you–and not bring down the insurance wrath on me over several subsequent years.
• Maine lets you plead, and pay the ticket by credit card, online. Getting a ticket sucks, but if have to you get one, at least that makes dealing with it from another country a lot easier. Of course, the State of Maine does use the domain name paytixx.com for this service, which is just kind of embarrassing for them.
• This is not the first time I’ve received a speeding ticket in America on my way to work in Boston. I once (many moons ago) got one in New York state, which I forgot about. I realized when it was time for my next trip that I had ignored the ticket, and the very probable consequence was that my license had been suspended in New York. This, of course, would be a problem when I set out on the current trip, with its six-hour jaunt across New York. I called the appropriate agency in New York to see about paying the ticket and whatever other costs would be needed to straighten it out. I was delighted to find out that my not doing anything had triggered a trial, that the cop had not appeared, and that the ticket had been dismissed. Very civilized. This is probably why the Maine ticket was covered in “Failure to respond is considered a guilty plea” notices.
• I also once got one in Massachusetts, coming back from working in Boston–actually it was coming home for one night for a party in the middle of a trip to Boston, but that’s another story–and I did pay that one. The ‘undercover’ car that caught me was a green 70s Econoline van, and I have to give the Massachusetts staties props for using that–I didn’t even have a hint of suspicion that it was a cop car. That was the time it was Fairies Wear Boots.
• Given the number of times I’ve driven through “the Airline” in Maine in excess of the posted limits during the last six or seven years, I’m comfortable with this ticket as a “speed tax” incident (especially since there will apparently be no ongoing ramifications in terms of insurance cost). I doubt my behaviour will be modified on that stretch of road, at least not unless my rate of getting tickets goes up to more than one every seven years.

Update: My wife reminds me that I have, in fact, been pulled over once in Nova Scotia, but that I got out of the ticket because Sarah was asleep in the back seat. This was back when Sarah’s age was measured in months, and I was driving her around because sometimes she would only go to sleep in the moving car. I had kind of forgotten that, since I was only going 70 km/hr at the time, and it doesn’t seem like it should count to get pulled over on a highway for doing 70.