Fight the Power

I pity the fool: In Mr. T-glish, a common equivalent to the English "I'd best not find out who it was."
I pity the fool who scratched my car.

First things first: NEW JACKIE AND DEBRA VIDEO. I was so jazzed when I stumbled upon this (and by stumbled upon, I mean I was watching "Jackie + Debra - Stephanie Berger" for the 492nd time). Please do not watch this out of context—take the time to watch the two previous videos so you really understand the inner workings of Debra's soul first:



While you were watching MJ's memorial service on every single broadcast medium known to man yesterday, I was waiting my turn at a court hearing for my loitering ticket. Yes, the loitering ticket I got approximately a month ago while sitting and innocently eating goldfish near the Lighthouse Beach parking lot at 2:50 a.m. It was a bogus ticket, no doubt about that, but the cop got us for "being in a park after hours."

I've lived half a block away from this so-called park my entire life and never knew it was considered one, so I decided to contest the ticket. But first, I did a little homework. I went back to Lighthouse to see if signs were clearly posted, which they weren't. Only a sign in the actual sand saying the beach was closed after 11 p.m. and ones in the parking lot saying no cars after this time. Nothing calling it a park. Later, I went on the city Web site to find the list of Evanston parks—no other beaches were on there. My argument: Lighthouse is NOT sufficiently labeled a park.

I was a little nervous when I actually got to the hearing, not because I was scared of being found guilty (it's a friggin' loitering ticket) but because I had to perform. The other people there with me consisted of three groups:
- Generally law-abiding, middle-aged women with petty tickets like having their dog off the leash or not wearing protective eyewear on a motorcycle
- High school students caught drinking
- People a little too familiar with the court system and all seem to personally know each other

After the high school seniors made their unconvincing case (and lost, $500 tickets each), they dramatically stormed out with "this is bullshit!" and threw up peace signs to the others waiting. I was relieved to go next, knowing any act following theirs would be an improvement. After my explanation, the hearing officer told me I made a strong argument and seemed to appreciate my gumption and willingness to waste an hour—he reduced it to $25. "I'm not going to make you pay $75 to the city for this; tell your friends I'll do the same for them."

Needless to say, I walked out with a little skip in my step. I utilized my journalist/sexy foreign detective skills, and it payed off. It's still bullshit we weren't just let go in the first place, but at least I defended myself. What of it, 5-0?

Sorry, you're probably so tense sitting on the edge of your seat after my civil court story. Here's something to ease your nerves for the rest of the day.



Until next time, "I'm putting the boot on her thing!" (please tell me you watched it till the end).

J.