Roadtrip to MT

Thanksgiving was a quick jump to Montana between storms to check in with my dad. E fixed an entire Thanksgiving dinner, and an amazing banana pie (with two secret liquors). My dad figured that was the first time a real Thanksgiving dinner with Turkey and trimmings was made in that kitchen since his mother lived there. E and I took Carmine on some walks around the ranch, I cleaned up the immense yard and stored the mowers for winter, we ate and ate and ate, and drove back to Utah.
I was pulled over by a state patrol on the way home going 75 in a 75 coming into Twin Falls ID. The trooper told me I was going 80, but five miles earlier I had double checked the cruise control to 75 and it was still pegged there when the line of cars that had shot past me going well over 80 began slamming on their breaks as they spotted the trooper that I’d known would likely be there. The trooper wanted to fine me for not having a front license plate, but they aren’t required in KS. Then he wanted to fine me for having my windows tinted too dark, he clipped his meter to the window and the tint was legal. Then he asked me to step out of the car, and wanted to know if I’d been drinking, and when the last time I had a drink (wine with Thanksgiving dinner), and asked me to stick out my tongue. Then he wanted to know the last time I smoked pot (you can see how they are trained to ramp into that question, leading in with the alcohol)- “I’m asking because your eyes seem a little red”. I told him “never” (which may seem odd what with the art thing, but is true) and told him I’ve been on the road all day from northern MT and am just road tired- he picked up that I was being polite to his somewhat insinuatingly perturbing line of inquiry, and he congratulated me on not doing drugs. It was a funny thing to say to say to someone at least 10 years your senior. I said, “O.K.” and pursed my lips at him. It was a bit surreal- I was suddenly aware of my “mad professor” hair. Then he let me go.
My guess is he pulled me over for not having a front plate (an old girlfriend’s uncle had been a state trooper, and they look for anything out of order like that, and often find a wayward criminal that way- that is how most people ‘on the lamb’ are brought in, more effectively than the CIA and FBI combined ie Timothy McVeigh, Warren Jeffs, etc.)  , and mistook the ranch funk of smoke that permeated the car for Jane.
Understandable, but still annoying. Or else it was just to pull over the sports car- as I’m sure was the case for a real sports car, a nice late model red Corvette that was pulled over right in front of us just out of Salt Lake. He had been driving along with our clump of smart traffic (smart traffic being drivers that don’t get fouled by other drivers, and anticipate the lay of traffic rather than jumps in speed to keep flowing- and generally wind up in proximity enough to recognize each other) for 30 miles and was really doing a great job of not speeding and letting people fly on by- allowing other drivers to remain blissfully unaware of the insane extra 400hp than the rest of us with smooth dodges of bad merges and the inevitable Mormon road blocks.
Come to think of it, the last ticket I got was for driving safely- getting around an unstable trailer pulled by a pickup that was drafting a Semi and spewing gravel from the shoulder. The trooper pulled me from a line of cars I had merged into to get around the hazard- the officer told me I was going faster than I had been going- the difference between a small v large ticket- when he asked me if I knew why he pulled me over I bit back saying “Must be for having the top down and a pretty girlfriend riding shotgun”. 

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