A few words about the cellphone law.

While the CA cellphone law got a fair amount of publicity in the weeks and months before it went into effect, it doesn't seem to have been a big deterrent. Go for a drive, and within minutes, you'll be able to spot multiple people with phones to their ears. 

One thing the state and local agencies haven't done a good job of, IMHO, is telling the public exactly how much that first cite's going to really cost. Yes, it's nominally $20, but once all the fees and assessments are levied on top of the base fee, it's probably $100 or more. 

And that might be enough to get the attention of even the average Californian.

Since thousands of these cites have been written thus far, you'd think word might be getting out to the friends and family of some of these folks. Or not. It is California, after all. There's far more important things to think about, like who's sleeping with who on The Hills this week. 

Not really news: helmets work.

I had a solo bicycle crash the other day involving a man in his 70s who went down pretty hard. He couldn't tell me what happened (which leads me to believe he may have a concussion), and he got a nasty laceration over his eye, but he'll be back on the bike before long. 

The reason: the foam liner in his helmet was cracked all the way through, from just over his eye to a spot above the ear. The only thing holding the helmet together was the outer hard shell.

As the weather warms up, we're going to start seeing more and more fit guys on expensive road bikes, riding in those little cloth caps and no helmets, presumably because they want to look more like one of the riders on the Pro Tour. I wonder how many of them will find their lives changed forever by that fashion statement.

Sometimes, the planets actually align.

In and out of Traffic Court in an hour the other day; one "no contest" plea (showing better judgement than on the day of the crash), and one trial that ended in a guilty verdict. 
What a change from the 3+ hours I'm used to. Not sure why this happened, but I'm not complaining.

Fix-it Ticket Follies, Part Deux.

So I'm on my way to an injury crash on one of the busiest thoroughfares in Small City, and as I come over the freeway overpass, I can see the fire trucks and the ambulance up ahead on the other side of the road. I come to a stop for a red light about 1/4 mile from the crash, and two guys in an old Toyota truck, rattle-can painted camo, start waving from the next lane over, trying to get my attention. Whatever this is, I have a feeling it isn't good.

"Yes?" (as I roll down my window)

"I have a fix-it ticket I need signed off." 

"Can't do it. I'm on my way to a crash. Right up there." (as I point down the street)

"Great! We'll follow you over!" (you have got to be freakin' kidding.)

"NO, you will not follow me over. Go to the Police Station and have someone do it there."

Yeah, you can follow me to the crash, because we all know I've got nothing else to do right now, and it would take you a whole ten minutes or so to drive to the PD. "Excuse me, ma'am, I know you're bleeding and all, but let me sign off this ticket. Just be a minute."

Unbelievable.