4th of July

So 233 years ago on the 4th day of JULY a rag tag group of rebels decided they didn’t want to be under the tyrannous rule of England anymore. They banded together to draft the Declaration of Independence in 1776 and form the perfect Union known as the United States of America. It was our founding fathers who wanted to say “FUCK ENGLAND”.

Now over the years to celebrate the birth of our country we have started several  4th of July traditions. For instance heading to the beach, fireworks on the water and the All-American barbeque!

Now this year while cruising around the California coast on a boat headed to Newport Harbor for the day I was inspired by all the flags waving from the tall mast ships to think of a great way to start my own new tradition to repeat year after year.

So this summer I  found my way to contribute to the 4th of July traditions.

I got head from a British chick!

It’s my own personal way of “Fucking England” right in the mouth!

Happy belated Fourth of July Everybody! Who would like to go sailing next year?

A few months back, I was issued one of the most random tickets to ever be handed out in the history of the world!

I got a ticket for sliding down the handrails in the subway station at Hollywood/Highland in Los Angeles.  I ride the subway daily and I can’t resist an empty handrail to slide down.

Ever since I was young, only a few things never got old to me.  Pretending to throw a dog a ball and they run every time… never gets old… riding shopping carts in the grocery store… never gets old… finding money in your pocket you didn’t know was there… never gets old… and of course sliding down handrails… never gets old to me!

On this unfortunate day when I slid down the rail, four Metro Cops were standing at the base checking for people’s tickets.  In L.A. you are on the honor system.  No turnstiles, so if they catch you without valid fare it’s up to a $250 fine(ouch).

Now when I ride, I always have my headphones on to avoid silly questions.  So when I thought I was safe as long as I had valid fare there would be nothing to worry about.  I was wrong.  As I walked past the Metro Officers and waved my ticket in the air, one of the cops said, “hey buddy, you can’t slide down the handrails”.  I kept going cause I was enjoying the song “Skin Tight” by The Ohio Players in my shuffle.

When he repeated the saying, I turned around to find out who was yelling at me.  When I stopped, he said it again, “hey buddy, you can’t slide down the handrails in the subway”. Unfortunately, I was standing right next to the sign that says what you can and cannot do in the subway station.  So I make a small misstep and think it would be funny to point at the sign and say, “you should put that on the sign”.  Not the right thing to say in that situation.  The next thing I hear is, “up against the wall”.

I was issued a ticket for violating a city civil code.  I was totally unaware that opening my mouth would land me a date in court.

I had to go to one of the most intimidating buildings in L.A.  The Courthouse downtown on Hill St.

I decide to get there early cause I didn’t want this to take all day.  There was only one guy in line in front of me.  He looked really upset.  Ends up he was there for domestic abuse charges.  He beat up his wife, kids, and mother-in-law.  His story made it seem like the mother-in-law really deserved it.

When I got inside the courthouse, the standard paperwork was given out and then they rolled in the old school AV unit from high school with the TV/VCR combo.  In the video, which was made in the early 90′s, featured an awesome cameo. Judge Lance Ito!

When the first guy stood in front of the Judge, he looked nervous.  The Judge gave him a quick look up and down and then got to it.  “Says here you had another incident”, he says sternly.   “Can you tell me what happened with your mother-in-law?”  “Well, your honor, she hit me wit da schmoove”.  The courtroom goes silent in confusion and the court reporter has an awkward look on her face as she slowly raises her hands away from her stenography.  The Judge kindly asks, “could you repeat that?”

“She hit me wit da schmoove”, he says, exactly the same as he did before.  The Judge is still confused and in my current position on deck I have no idea what’s going on.

The Judge says with authority, “I don’t know what the schmoove is”.

This time the defendant puts his right hand about chest level and starts moving it side to side and says, “she hit me wit da schmoove, you know the thing you schmoove da clothes wit?”.

The Judge finally realizes, “oh you mean the iron?”.

The courtroom tries their best to remain silent to no avail.  The Judge smirks with surprise and quickly releases the guy and tells him to just keep attending his anger management classes and checking in with his parole officer.

He then gets to the biggest criminal in the room, me.

He lifts the ticket off the desk and snickers to himself and glances over to his assistant.  ‘I’ve never seen this before”, he says very sarcastically.  “Well, Mr. Flatley, what did we learn from this?”

I respectfully reply, “I guess i shouldn’t be sliding down handrails in the subway stations”.  He then proceeds.  “It says here you’re 31 years old, are you aware of that?”.

“Yes Your Honor, I am”.

“Well I’m going to throw this ticket out this time, but if I catch you in here again, I’m gonna have to fine you”.  He pauses, “and then I’m gonna have to hit you wit da schmoove”.

I couldn’t hold it in.  I laughed my ass off in the court room along with anyone who was paying attention to the comedy gold that just came out of the mouth of a Judge with 25 years service under his belt!

“Thank you, Your Honor”.