My Near Arrest

Last Thursday, at the council meeting, I was very tempted to push the envelope and be arrested. This came about because the public comments dronned on and on and on. And only three people actually had anything to say that was worth hearing (no, I was not one of them). When I sit for long periods of time, my back gets stiff; I stand up and usually lean against the back of a seat. In about fifteen minutes, the aged spine slips back into place, and I sit down. So it was on Thursday. At first, I was standing to the left of the chamber door and was told standing there was a safety hazard. So I moved to the right of the door and then moved forward to lean on the back of a seat. Some goon told me I had to move; I refused. The goon brought in a Trenton cop who told me I had to move. When I asked why, I was told it was a safety hazard, it was not allowed, etc. Being me, my first thought, "OK, arrest me in public with a least three reporters sitting in the chamber." Then I remembered Dear Ole Dad's advice about dealing with cops and the fact that both my mother and my grandmother would come back to haunt me for making a scene. I went home and had milk and cookies and felt better. An hour or so later, I got a phone from one of my pals who was also present. She wanted to what happened, why I left, and then said, "Just after, the mayor came in. I guess he was afraid you'd stick your foot out and trip him. Pat, he doesn't know you very well." Maybe the honorable mayor did want to make a grand entrance; he's entitled. If the goon had said that's why I should move, I would have done so with alacrity. The point of this screed? God damn it! Stop lying. Don't blow smoke. Don't feed me crappola. Tell me the truth; at least I could leave the field with some respect for you.