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Don't mess around with Jim...

Jimway

Jimway

Well-known member
Ok, I've got a small story for 1954BMW, while the resin is drying. I live out on a two lane country road which the county, after spending a considerable amount of time and effort installing pot holes, has decided to widen the road and repave. It's about 12 miles from town to home. 50 mph speed limit, which some how, after applying varies 'credits' like the new car credit, or the 'I'm special' credit, or even the 'I'm entitled' credit, multiplied by the 'I got up late and it's all of your fault' factor, may be anywhere from 65 to the mechanical limits of the various machines involved. There are really limited spots along the length of the road to pull off and let the speedsters go off along their merry way. To just pull onto the shoulder in an improper spot may result in submersion of vehicle up to its axles, especially after this winters waterworks. Don't ask how I know this. To widen the roadway, the county must first completely destroy it and transform it into a reasonable facsimile of direct hit on an ordinance dump.
 
Love reading Jimway's tales.
Maybe it's good that he forces you to "put the book down" by only providing a page at a time :D.
 
The county installed 25 mph speed limit signs at both ends of the road along with road construction zone signs and a couple of big nifty signs that state something to the effect that traffic fines DOUBLE in a construction zone. Now the project has been moving along probably less than the speed of an unathletic snail. The workers show up at 0800 and seem to vanish around 1500 or so. At first, when the workers show up in the morning, they remove black plastic Hefty bags that they have draped over the 25 mph speed limit signs the afternoon before. You might imagine that if the breeze is right, it will blow the plastic bags off also. And so it went for awhile. You never knew when the speed limit was going to be full speed ahead (gratuitous boating reference so that the proprieties are observed) or a no wake zone, so to speak. To complicate matters for the heavy footed types, there were days at a time when the bags flew off of the 25 mph speed limit signs but there wasn't a worker in sight. The fast and furious quickly began to ignore the signs altogether. The workers, when they actually showed up to stand around and look at stuff, found themselves akin to standing on the front stretch of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway on race day. This made them so uncomfortable that they asked the Sheriff to stop by and help slow down things a bit. I might also mention that early on, someone procured some black sheet plastic and manufactured several covers that one could easily and quickly attach to the 25 mph speed limit signs with little metal clips. These covers are the same size and shape as the speed limit signs and have a factory look about them, if I do say so myself. With the signs so covered, one could motor on down the road as usual without fear of reprisal from johnny law. The wind could no longer blow the cover off during the times that the workers were no longer there. In fact, the workers were happily using said covers as if they were their own. Early on, one could put the cover on first thing in the morning if one were going to make several trips back and forth to town and the wind had blown the plastic bags off.
 
:devil: wouldn't it have just have been easier to put the metal clips on the black trash bags, maybe buy yourself some black bags???????
 
It was difficult to try to put that tattered bag over the sign with that 4x4 post behind it. It was just moments to hold up the plastic cover and put those little file folder clips on, time being of the essence in covert operations. The roadway travels across an open raised expanse that is subject to the prevailing wind. The plastic bag thing was just too flimsy. In the first stages of the project, The county spent a lot of time spray painting all kinds of marks on everything in sight. The power company was tasked with moving poles back from the edge of the roadway in preparation for widening the road. The communications folks did their best, or is it worst?, to move communications stuff all over the place. You might imagine that the old standby generator has been getting a good workout and phone and computer service has been more sketchy than usual. During this time though, the road was still somewhat intact, albeit sprinkled with strategically placed pot holes capable of removing wheel and tire from your F 350.
 
There came a morning that some unknown person or persons had just put on a speed limit sign cover. There was no construction going on nor was there any construction types present as I happily motored along the roadway at almost the non construction zone speed limit. Who should I meet coming in the opposite direction but a Deputy Sheriff. Of course he engages every light possible on his new cruiser. I grind quickly to a stop right next to him as I believe he was going to make a u turn in preparation of pursuit of old Jim. He looks rather confident and polished. I roll down the window of the old Ford. "What's goin on?" I ask. "Did you get a new rig?" I add. He looks slightly taken aback. "Uh could I have you pull over to the side of the road while I turn around" he states. "Why?" I ask. We are stopped, idling, on the straightaway, early in the morning and there is no one else around. He begins to look a little nervous. "Are you aware of the speed limit in a construction zone"? he asks. "The posted limit, on this stretch of road, right now, is 50 mph" I state. "I was doing 45 mph, wouldn't you agree"? I add. He smiles, "That's 20 over, didn't you see the 25 mph sign?" "No no no", I say, "the 25 mph sign is still covered up". "They don't uncover it until they start working around 8 o'clock in the morning". "Sir, I'm going to have you pull off to the side of the road" he states. "You're new out here aren't you?" I say helpfully. "We can't pull off here because our rigs will sink into the soft ground". "I'll back down to that driveway and wait for you while you go down and turn around at the road construction sign so you can see it's covered up still" I say with a smile. "There's plenty of room down there for you to make a u-turn". He looks really uneasy. I back away slowly, about 50 feet or so to a driveway and back right in. He turns right in, in front of me and gets out, blocking the exit. He ask's for some pertinent information from me, which I respectfully decline. "I'll make you a deal" I say. I turn off the truck and hand him the keys. "You go down there and look at that sign (Which is in sight of where we are parked) and you will see that I'm being truthful about it still being covered up". He looks a little aggravated. "I'm going to have you sit tight right here while I go look at that sign" he says. "Please stay in your vehicle" he adds. He sets the keys on the hood, "Do not leave" he says sternly while he points an index finger at me. He zips out smartly and roars down the road.
 
Mr Law turns around at the sign down the road and just sits there for a while. I might not have mentioned that Mrs. Jimway is seated next to me as we are hanging out together this day. "You're going to get a ticket" she purrs and flicks the very end of my nose. "I think not"! I speak grandiosly. "Oh, and about that little peck on the nose, that's spousal abuse". She rolls her eyes up at the ceiling. "The lights on the cruiser should go off" I say. "If you're lucky" quips Mrs Jim. "Why, that's my middle name" I say. "I was thinking about another name" says Mrs Jim. "Look look look" I interupt, "there go the lights". "You were saying"? I ask. "We'll just see" says Mrs Jim. The lawman comes slowly back up the road and pulls back in. He gets out and walks up to the window wearing a look of disbelief. Before he can say anything, I say "I bet the plastic sign has blown off up the road". "It was windy last night". "Uh, yeah" he says. "There's no cover coming this way". I introduce myself and Mrs Jim. She kicks me in the ankle. A look of recognition comes over his face. "I haven't seen you out this way before" "You must be new" I say. "Yeah, the regular guy mentioned you specifically" he says. "Now some of the stuff he said about me isn't true" I say defensively". Mrs Jim looks around me toward the officer and says "Oh it's true all right". "She hasn't had her coffee yet this morning" I interupt, pointing my right thumb in her direction. She grabs my thumb and tries to pull it backward, "Ow" I say. The Deputy smiles at Mrs Jim. "Did you witness that" I ask to the Deputy, "That's elder abuse, right there". "I didn't see a thing" he says. "Oh, I like you already" smiles Mrs Jim. He hands me the keys from the hood and says "We are going to be out here in force to slow traffic down". "I'm going to check into this sign business". "I think that the signs can't just be covered and uncovered whenever work is in progress". "I think it has to be posted for the duration of the project" he adds. "I'll be happy to inform my neighbors" I say, "But you know some of them are knuckleheads right"? "That's OK", he says, "I'll be happy to explain it to them if they exceed the limit". He points his finger at me and says "consider this a warning" and scowls. "He looks at Mrs Jim and smiles and says "Have a nice day Ma'am". A car has appeared traveling at a rather high rate of speed from the same direction that the Deputy has come from. He hits the lights and takes off down the road. I give the starter a quick bump and the old Ford pops to life. I'm feeling rather proud of myself as I smile at the receeding lights. I look over at Mrs Jim. Her arms are crossed and she stares at me. "What"? I say. She cocks her head to the right a little and after a moment says "I'm just looking to see if you're nose has grown any larger than it is" "Yep, definitly bigger after all of that" she adds. "Jealous"? I ask. She just looks at me peevishly and points up the road. "I need coffee" she says.
 
So we get this call from my a loved one, car wont start. I ask some questions over the phone. My heart leaps up, here is a perfect rescue mission. We pop home and grab up what I call the 'emargency' tool box, jack, stands, portable lights, generator, pop up canopy, cooler(all important), and I even have a spare starter on the shelf. We are on the road in a flash and I confide my resourcefulness to my Mrs. "You are so cocky sometimes" she says and rolls her eyes at the ceiling. "I'm that good" I state. "How do you even know that it is the starter"? she questions. "Years of experience" I retort. "Yeah, you've got the years alright" she laughs. "Hmm, let me think for a moment, you were born..?" "After you which makes you O L D E R than me " she interupts. I smile. "I'd like to go on record right here" I say, "It's the starter", "It is only gonna take about 20 minutes to fix", "And you know that you shouldn't doubt Old Dad". "P l ease" Mrs Jim pleads. We show up on scene. I disconnect the battery, jack the car, set the stands, throw down some cardboard, grab a couple of wrenches, and Two nuts and two bolts later, I've got the starter out and am putting the new one back in. I slide out and hook the battery back up and give the key a twist. Bam, car lights right off. "You hear that"? I ask. They all lean in toward the engine compartment. I smile. "No, I mean the sound of the fat lady singing". They all exchange glances and shake their heads. I rejack the car, pop down the stands, and set it back down, remove the jack, replace tools, and we are ready to go. I get a big hug and thank you from the cars owner. Mrs Jim looks at the clock. "You were going to say something"? I ask. "Nope" she says without looking. at me. So now we are heading back down the country road and It is one of those beautiful spring mornings. The big puffy clouds are hanging in the blue sky. The grass and trees are vivid green. The birds are flitting about and singing for all their worth. I am approaching the construction zone when I notice the guy from up the road approaching the bumper of the old Ford at approximately the speed of sound. We'll call him PO. You might get the inference.
 
This guy, PO'd, must be doing like 70 mph. I mean, it's like we are in reverse or something, he comes up so fast. I say to Mrs Jim, "Look at this guy coming up behind". I have coasted down to 25 mph. Looking in the rear view mirror, PO'd has taken up position so close that all I can see is the windshield and the roof of his car. "Guy looks just like Danny the Count from 'Counting Cars'". "Oh my" says Mrs Jim, "he does". He has a dark blue bandanna on his head that comes down to just above his eyes. He has on a dark 't' shirt with no sleeves. Now the road at this point is still pretty nice but posted at 25 mph. Apparently, PO'd hasn't noticed the sign and thinks that I should be doing 70 mph. "Man this guy is close" I say. He toots the horn on his POS. Surprisingly, it works. It appears to be a 70's Maveric, rattlecan black, absolutely no muffler, dirty as sin, and four different tires and wheels. "What an elbow" I state out loud. This stretch of road has a double yellow line that runs right down the middle of it. There is no place to pull off out of the way. PO'd slows back a bit and displays his high beams. He then speeds up like he is going to ram us but skids his rear tires at the last moment and then lays on the horn. "This guy is a real armpit" I say. He really has my attention now. "Think I should brake check him"? I ask Mrs Jim. She looks back at him through the rear window. He gives her a one finger salute. "Hand me my gloves" I say to Mrs Jim. "Now honey" She says, "You just have to be the bigger man here and let him go by". "We're gonna find out who the bigger man is in just a moment here" I say. "No you don't" says Mrs Jim. "Five bucks it takes him at least five minutes to remove my foot from his blank" I say. "honey, no" says Mrs Jim. "How about I slap em around four or five times and just throw him in the ditch and were on our way"? I ask. She just cocks her head to the right and looks disdainfully at me. "OK, I hold him down and you slap some sense into him" I ask hopefully. PO'd now honks the horn continuously. "What an ankle" I say. Mrs Jim sees a space to pull off the road and let PO'd pass. I signal, pull off, brake to a stop, and signal with my arm for PO'd to pass. He grinds to a stop and jumps out. "Look, he's a little mini me Danny the Count" I chuckle to Mrs Jim.
 
The doors on the old Ford have little electric solenoid lock buttons which I routinely lock while I'm out and about. PO'd is really upset. He charges up toward the open window saying a bunch of stuff that I cant yet make sense of and the next thing I know, this plastic Pepsi bottle careens off of the door mirror. Pepsi splashes around a little and ends up on my arm, the mirror, and door and fender. Hood too. "What the blank was that?" I blurt out. PO'd is about Mrs Jims size. He charges up to the door and questions my heritage, and claims that I don't know who my father was, and slams his hand onto the door of the truck. 'Please don't do that" I say. PO'd says that he is going to place his foot against my posterior. "I'd like to see that" I quip to Mrs Jim out the side of my mouth. In my peripheral vision, Mrs Jim is picking up my gloves from the transmission hump. I slip the truck into park and set the brake. "Dude, this is a construction zone or did you miss the sign"? I ask. All kinds of vile stuff drains from PO'd's mouth. This guy is like out of control. he gets on me, the truck, my driving, and then he makes a statement concerning the lady seated next to me. "He may have gone too far with that one" I say expectantly to Mrs Jim out of the right corner of my mouth. "He did" she says frostily. "Where's a cop when you need one?" she adds. She is handing the gloves toward me when a strange feeling of calm creeps over me. "Hopefully right up around the corner where he was just a little while ago" I say out of the corner of my mouth again. "Watch the master, young padawan" I say. I appologize to PO'd and explain to him that I pulled over to let him by. PO'd tells me how to drive in the future, to stay out of his way, get a better truck, improve myself in several different types of ways including to loose weight. My arms have knotted up in preparation of a little village shredding and I have to take a breath. A whole bunch of 'one liners' are begging to get out of my mouth but I apologize a couple of more times and tell PO'd that I don't know what more I can do to appease him. True to his nature, he stalks back to his car does a neutral drop and peels past in a cloud of dust and gravel. "Wave to the nice gentleman" I say to Mrs Jim. I can only imagine how fast PO'd was going when he rounded the corner and came into radar range of the Deputy who was still sitting there, because I waited for a few moments and took some deep breaths. I also strategically thanked Mrs Jim for keeping me out of trouble. She smiled. "You don't suppose?" she says, "I do" I interupt. "I'm going to go nice and slow so we can take it all in" I instruct. We proceed forward and sure enough, there, down toward the end of the straightaway, is Po'd. More importantly, so is Mr Deputy.
 
Ah yes, there is mr Po'd and Mr Deputy looks po'd. He is pointing his right index finger straight at PO'd. He then waves his right arm toward my direction and then his left arm toward the opposite direction. Then he bends down to the window of PO'd's car and is shaking his finger again and again. "Ooo that can't be good" says Mrs Jim. "Nope" I say. "Does it feel a little chilly, the closer we get"? I add. "I think I should get a cookie for this? I say. "Chocolate chip I suppose" sighs Mrs Jim. "Is there any other kind? I ask incredulously. So were idling by and taking in the whole scene when I look in the rear view and here comes another jackshaft at the speed of an uncommonly athletic Cheetah. We are just passing the probable cause spot and Mr Deputy steps back to his cruiser, looks inside, presumably at the radar readout, steps out into the middle of the road and holds up his hand at the oncoming speedster. "Boy, there goes the monthly budget" I snicker. "You're enjoying this aren't you?" asks Mrs Jim. "You're not?" I ask. "I wonder how much the ticket is going to be?" I say. "I think you should stop and tell the Deputy how that guy was driving before he stopped him" instructs Mrs Jim. "Discretion is sometimes the better part of valor" I say.
 
Epilogue: So we roll into the local Walmart 'like a Nascar winner'. I notice a certain dirty old Maverik, slouched in the parking lot. It's leaking oil, I'm just saying. "This just might be interesting" I say to MJ. "No fighting" she says sternly. "Remember what the Manager said last time"? she adds. "Well, in point of fact".. MJ holds up her hand to interrupt but says nothing. We get through most of the shopping expedition before we run across PO'd. I walk right up, look down, and stick out my hand. I administer the 'Kung Fu Grip' handshake while I apologize for being so slow the day before. MJ looks on with suspicion, her eyes peevish. "Thas a nice old Mustang you've got" I say, pumping for a little info. "Actually, it's a Maverik" he says helpfully. "Oh", I say. "Well, you know, old guy, needs glasses".. I say and point to my glasses that are hooked on the collar of my 'T' shirt (or shart, as Shark would say). "Well, in any case, I noticed that you were talking to the Sheriff when we went past" I cut to the quick. "I hope everything went well"? I add. MJ tilts her head back to study my every move and nuance through her reading glasses. Turns out (after a little small talk) that PO'd got hit with 40 mph over the posted limit of 25mph. I just might mention that out here in the Great Northwest, fines double in a construction zone. $411 for the initial 40 mph jaunt in excess compounded by a factor of two, carry the one, ... Yep, $822 dinerouses and probably an administrative fee to boot. MJ purses her lips and clamps them in her teeth, turns and wheels the cart around the corner and down the aisle. "I tell PO'd how sorry and what a piece of bad luck that was, and to hopefully have a nice day, before I purse my lips and clamp them in my teeth and disappear around the corner. "That wasn't very nice" I say to MJ. "You didn't even say goodbye" "I couldn't" Says MJ laughing through gritted teeth. "Wasn't that fun"I ask... and so it goes...
 
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