I was cruising down
Montague Expressway
on the way back to the office after heading home to change into something more suitable for dining out. I noticed a motorcycle coming up behind me, and started thinking to myself, “Hey, is that a police motorcycle?” And so the argument went in my head: “I don’t think so, wouldn’t it say ‘Police’ on it?” “But I think only police ‘cycles look like that from the front.” “Don’t the police wear white helmets?”

If I’d been thinking clearly, instead of entertaining this little inner dialogue, I would have slowed down, just to be safe. Anyway, seconds later my question was answered, when the red and blue flashers came on and he pulled me over. And that’s how I got my very first speeding ticket.

Actually after four years in California it’s a surprise it didn’t happen sooner. I’ve been pulled over three times previously for various minor infractions, and let off with warnings as many times. I suppose my luck was bound to run out sooner or later.

The “rite” refers to something I’ve heard mentioned and discussed by many of my friends and acquaintances: traffic school. In California you can get a traffic violation stricken from your record (at most once every eighteen months, I’m told)—and thereby avoid paying increased auto insurance premiums—by attending a day-long class on the rules of traffic, etc. I wouldn’t call it a pleasant—or even interesting—experience, but it’s something almost everybody here goes through, and in a way I look forward to it as a sort of rite of passage towards becoming a “real” Californian.