Birthday Blog

I guess now is as good a time to blog as any other. I've been watching movies again lately. For some reason, I've been gravitating toward animated films. I recently saw the Hayao Miyazaki classics, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind (1984) and Castle in the Sky(1986). I also watched The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (2006) and Bolt (2008). They were all good. I particularly enjoyed Nausicaa and The Girl Who Leapt Through Time for some reason. I didn't think the others were as good, but were still enjoyable. I might do reviews later. Anyways,

I'll start with last week. My father came to visit me in Stockton last Thursday. I had just woken up to his abrupt phone call.

"Andrew, I'm here."
Groggily, I replied, "K. Dad. Lemme get ready." Click.

I gathered my books and whatnot and joined him in the passenger seat of his pedophile/kidnapper white Nissan Quest van. My brother and I had merrily placed a "Mystery Spot" bumper sticker years ago on the back bumper so as to avoid the inevitable stares of passers-by who might find the van shady. Needless to say, the yellow sticker only made the van creepier.

But the creepiness wasn't new to me, as I walked down the stairs of my residence hall into the passenger seat of my dad's van. At this point, I was so tired that I delayed putting on the seatbelt. I just sat there lazily, body as exhausted as I usually feel when woken prematurely.

We got onto the street without any trouble, my seatbelt still unbuckled, and, talking sparsely as only father and son could, we continued driving. We came up to a stop sign and saw a police car parked, seemingly looking for stop sign-violators. My dad commented uneventfully, "Doesn't it seem like the police are everywhere?"

Before I could come up with a cynical I'm-tired-dad retort, I heard the saddening siren of a police car. I put on my seatbelt. I knew what was coming. We pulled over.

"I pulled you over," the police said callously, "because he wasn't wearing a seatbelt." He pointed to me.

"It's National Click-it-orTicket Week, so we are told to look out especially for seatbelt violations. How old are you, son?" the law enforcer asked.
"Eighteen," was my weak, and notably only possible, reply.
"I'll be right back."

I swear the whole time my dad was smiling as if he wanted to seduce the policeman out of a ticket. I myself am guilty of trying to laugh off the ticket. He came back.

"Sorry, officer," I said. "I'm still in college. You know how irresponsible I can be."
He laughed. "That is true. Let me see your license." I gave it to him.

I thought it was money in the bank at this point. Surely, he saw I was charming and couldn't possibly give me a ticket now. Still, a few more jokes wouldn't hurt.

"What's your address, Andrew?"
"My home address or my school address? Well, I can't really call it home since my parents kicked me out a long time ago. You can see why," I said, pointing to the seat belt.
He laughed really hard this time.
"Yep, those things are mighty inconvenient. I'll just use the address on your license."


And then I got a ticket.