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[IMG]http://www.newsketeer.com/User_Resources/Image/blueberries_center.jpg[/IMG]
[COLOR="Blue"]Summer '07 is proving to be one of the better blueberry growing seasons in recent years. These were found growing high up on Florida Mountain, Massachusetts, elevation 2,250 feet.[/COLOR]

Yesterday might be described as a bad day, relatively speaking. I should have consulted an I Ching reading, or at least paid better attention to my instincts. I talked for too long to my editor while I was sitting on a bench in Amherst, and I had a nagging concern that I should check my parking meter. Sure enough, when I finally finished the call and walked back to my car, my windshield wiper was gift-wrapped in a $10 parking ticket.

I had a meeting last night, which might have been the more successful outcome to my day. But first, to get there I had to drive lickety-split from Amherst to my home town. A little too fast, apparently. Something told me "take the main highway," but no, I took the shortcut. It ended up being not such a great shortcut, as I was stopped for speeding. Uggh, it was one of the towns I write about. The police officer said he reduced my ticket from a 45 in a 30 MPH zone, or a $150 ticket, to a 40 in a 30, bringing it down to $100. One look at my car, and he probably figured I needed all the help I could get. I wonder why they don't give warnings anymore.

Highway tickets are all a matter of revenue generation. These towns use safety as a catch-all to justify generating money during tough economic times. The two tickets in one day played on my mind all of yesterday, but the truth is traffic tickets aren't a moral issue like murder, burglary or rape. If there is anything immoral about the incident, it is the police's increasing reliance on electronic equipment to stranglehold the citizenry. I mean, if speeding is such an outrageous civil indignity, then how would you explain the three cars that the officer let speed passed me while he was taking his time writing the ticket? It's got nothing to do with safety.

Catching a speeder has more to do with circumstance and luck. Any motorist can tell you the police are never there when they are really needed. You've seen the bumper stickers, "Troopers are your best protection." Well, are they, really? If you're being held up, or robed, or beaten, or terrorized on the road by real problem drivers, is there a trooper or highway patrol there to protect you? 9-out-of-10 times the answer is no. The probability is actually greater than that, let's say 9.9 times out of 10.

In both cases, I had this nagging suspicion that I had better do something different, like put more money in the meter, or take a different road, or slow down. Believe it or not, I actually had this premonition about a police car being exactly where it was when I was stopped. Did I trust my instinct and take action? No. I stupidly continued, business as usual. Just goes to show you. There's a lesson in there, and I don't think driving 30 is it.

Anyway, it's something to gripe about, but the whole affair was impersonal, which is just one more indication of how normal a speeding ticket is. It's not like the cop was giving me a hard time, he hardly said more than a few words to me, and he gave me a $50 discount, if you could call it that. I guess we pay for the towns we love. I have been moving a little bit faster on the highways these days, I suppose it is because of the distances I travel. And, the [COLOR="Red"]Red-Eye [/COLOR]shot of espresso in my regular coffee probably contributed to my angst.

p.s.- I shaved my head today. Not quite bald, but I didn't use a guard on the electric razor, either. I just love rubbing it, my scalp feels like sandpaper or sharkskin. Last week a woman in the supermarket walked up to me and rubbed my scalp. I told her I hoped it would bring her good luck.