Fair Isn't Fair

I got a Christmas card from the City of Auburn on Friday, or rather, their version of a Christmas card which is actually a "Notice of Traffic Infraction."

As it turns out, I got pegged by one of those photo enforcement machines. I was speeding while driving through a school zone--36 in a 20. My infraction occurred at precisely 12:13 PM on December 10, 2009. They sent me full color photos of my car, and I can even view a video of the incident at http://www.photonotice.com/. The penalty for my transgression: $200.

I've decided that I don't like the photo enforcement machines. This is a new revelation, mostly brought on by the $200 fine. I don't think that the photo machines are fair--or rather, I think that they are too fair. All justice with no mercy. To me it seems that Justice, absent of her twin virtue Mercy, isn't just at all.

I guess I'm an old fashioned girl. I prefer the game of cat and mouse where the officers wait in their police cars, radar devices ready, waiting for some unsuspecting speeder to race by. Then the pomp and circumstance of the lights flashing, maybe even a siren. The heart of the guilty pumping as they pull over.

Then comes the all important moment--the moment that the photo machine has robbed me of--the fragile moment one has to persuade Mercy to overcome Justice. The delicate and fleeting moment that one has to weasel out of the ticket.

I'm certain that there are many ways to accomplish the weaseling. My technique involves being contrite, humble, and of a cheery disposition. I try to appeal to the officer's humanity by pointing out the honest reason for my speed, "the sun was out, I was listening to a great song, and I just didn't notice my speed . . . " or "I'm sorry; I truly wasn't aware the speed limit had been lowered here" or (and this is true and actually occurred) "I'm in labor."

But I didn't have my moment. I didn't get to humbly point out that the school zone lights weren't flashing and doesn't the 20 mph limit only apply at certain periods of the day? I have children myself (aren't they cute there in the back?) and I certainly understand how important it is to drive slowly through school zones to keep the little ones safe. I have definitely learned my lesson about paying closer attention. Oh, you are just going to give me a warning today? Thank you so much Officer.

There is no appealing to the humanity of photo enforcement machines.

So my next step was to call my attorney, aka, my husband.

"So if one were to get one of those photo tickets in the mail, can one just ignore them?"

"What happened?"

"Didn't you tell me that by responding you are admitting to the crime and if you just ignore it then it just goes away."

"No, I didn't tell you anything like that."

"Really? I could have sworn you said something along those lines."

"No."

"So . . . if one were to get one of those tickets, how would one get out of it?"

"I love that you think you can just get out of it."

Lame. Honestly, what good is a law degree if you can't help your wife get out of traffic tickets?

I am also bothered by one of the statments made on my Instruction Page: "As the registered owner or nominated driver of the vehicle described in this Notice, we have no choice but to hold you responsible for paying this fine." Really? No choice? Lies. They could have chosen to not issue this ticket. They could have thrown it in the garbage. When I read this it as if I can hear the little photo robot talking:

Have. No. Choice. Hold. You. Responsible. Pay. Fine.

It all seems kind of Orwellian--I really do feel like Big Brother is watching me.

I haven't given up yet. I could request a hearing. The problem is that I have no good legal argument. The fact of the matter is that I did commit this "infraction." And I have a feeling that my cheery disposition will not be very effective in Court.

But, never fear, I will think of something. I am as creative as I am stubborn. In the mean time, I will watch my speed. And so will Big Brother.