hola peoples.

i’m hanging out in my studio.  it’s snowing big flakes outside right now.  the kind that stick and melt stick and melt.  like the clouds are pillowfighting and one of em hit a little too hard.  so it’s spraying down.  i heard birds chirping along the sidewalk earlier today.  i couldn’t see them but i imagine if i did, they’d be shivering in their claws.  how do they do it?  everyday, i hop on the internet and see people on facebook talking about how cold they are up here and how they’re gonna jump off a footbridge if it snows again.

I can only imagine the black-capped chickadee status update: chchchchchchchchchchchchch.

day after day.  night after night.  do they huddle like naked eskimos?  do they go into aviary central nervous system suspension?  it’s a stroke of genius they can hang in there.  think about it.  i’d buy a poster a put it on my wall if i could.  The Common Household Sparrow.  a hero of mine.  but no.  those posters don’t sell. 

i’m writing with one thing on my mind:  the law.

last christmas, while driving into uptown, i had the grand misfortune of being in the wrong place at the very wrong time.  i was getting onto the highway, crossing the mississippi….it was snowy as all hell, time was freezing, you know the story.  i couldn’t merge with traffic.  too many cars.  the car in front of me quickly swerved to the left and revealed a stalled car in the exit lane.  i looked to my left to avoid hitting the car, but it was useless.  i woulda crashed into a bunch more cars.  so i did what anyone would do.  i slowed down, slid down, braced myself, listened as all sound came to a halt, took some tiny snapshots with my inner camera for future nightmares, and watched as i slowly smashed the back of a toyota camry.  booooooom.  crunch.  wtf.

i get out of the car.  a dumb thing to do.  but instinct.  you can’t blame me.  i ran up to the car to look into the cab and there was no one in there.  uh oh.  maybe a stalled car.  no.  the hood was up.  no hazard lights.  no flares.  fifteen below and two guys who can’t speak english got the hood up and are trying to fix something inside the motor.  ohhh great.  i walk up to the front…..one dude is plastered on the shoulder, making a snow angel for his gentle asecension into MotherMaryville.  the other dude is tattooed to the hood, covered in blood, shaking, and looking at me like i’m not there.

after screaming a couple of helpless expletives, i again did what anyone would do.  i said:  ARE YOU OKAY?  no response.  these guys are trippin’.  shakin’.  even dying, maybe.  and here we are in the arctic tundra.  i’ve got blood on my hands from something beyond control and they’re playing silent charades.  the word i can think of is:  absurd.

keep in mind, from a selfish point of view, this is right around the time of my release show.  i’ve cut my head cut off working all kinds of hours:  flyer-ing, phone calls, interviews, postering, rehearsing, myspace-ing, facebook-ing…...blah blah blah-ing.  it’s relentless.  and suddenly, i’m a killer.  this s—t can’t be real. 

the ambulances come and haul the guys away.  a bystander who saw the incident said he’d live but he was going into shock and that’s why he couldn’t talk.  i was up to my knees in snow, freaking out.  ambulances, fire trucks, minnesota drivers doing that thing they do…...drive 2 mph whenever something is happening out of the ordinary.  tow trucks, state troopers.  i locked myself out of my car out of nerves.  the state trooper interiviewed me about the scene.  i had no idea what i said.  i was out of my mind, man!  i think she said, “did you hit these gentlemen?”  is said, “well, it was a total accident.  there was nothing i could do.  NOTHING.”  suddenly, i have a petty misdomeanor and have to go to court.

so after making an initial appearance that had to be re-scheduled, i showed up to court a few days ago to face the charges, face the karma, and i guess you could say, face the music.  i wasn’t that nervous.  i had learned that the dudes survived and were okay.  i sent them get well cards from the post office of my mind.  i hope they got them.  now it’s just me at 8 in the morning, downtown minneapolis, surrounded by court pews and people with the ticket blues.  there’s a judge, some prosecutors, law clerks, inmates in orange, and a couple of deputies who obviously enjoy their position of alleged authority.  it’s enough for me to get out my conte crayons and start sketching the scene like they used to do back in the day….....

anway, what i can’t get over is how the law is determined.  it’s not fair.  i watched it not be fair.  i guess i now don’t know what fair is.  maybe fair is just the color of a lover’s skin.  or the the circle you check if your meal is decent.  or another name for a carnival.  whatever i was witnessing was not fair.  and honestly, i don’t have an activist mind, but this sparked something in me that i won’t forget for awhile.  it makes me think of the “lonesome death of hattie carroll” by bob dylan or “attica” by john lennon.  or any song by any folk singer back in the day.  the ones no one writes anymore.  the ones that point the pistol at the process and fire flowers.  i can’t stand it.

i appreciated the fact that anyone was allowed to have counsel.  that seems fair.  however, i saw little deal after deal be made by the prosecutors without having to consult the judges.  i was a part of one of these deals.  after sitting in court for almost three hours, one of the gavel dodgers mumbled my name and took me out of the courtroom and into hall.  we both leaned up against the wall like old friends sharing a story.

he looks at me and says, “so you have four tickets.  no proof of insurance twice.  running a stop sign.  and this petty misdomeanor. looks like some serious fine-age.” 

i said, “i wasn’t issued tickets at the scene for my lack of insurance.  and i had insurance, i just had misplaced the proof.”  i then pulled out the proof and poof:

those tickets were gone (even though i had never been charged until now).

so now, i suddenly only have two tickets.  a stop sign which i’m guilty of and an a accident which i’m as much of a victim of as the guys that were hit.  I mean, do you walk the road or does the road walk you?

my ol’ buddy ol’ pal switch the balance on his hips, puts his pen in his mouth, touches his lips, squints, and says:

“i tell you what….here’s what we’ll do…..we’ll forget about the accident.  because as you say, it’s an accident (nevermind the victim letter).  you pay the stop sign ticket for 100 dollars and you can get out of here.  deal?”

now, seriously, i’ve been waiting three months for this easy deal that was somehow decided in about one minute.  i was confused.  i’ve never done anything to get me into court.  maybe this is just how it works.  so i say:

“so, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you just decide this?  i mean, how can an accident just be forgotten about while another one gets paid?  why can’t you decided to just forget about both of them?  i don’t understand?”

i wasn’t trying to get out of paying them.  i was simply curious.  he’s simply annoyed.  he clears his throat and says in a breathy voice:

“look man, i’ve gotta lotta things to do.  a lotta people to talk to.  that’s the deal.  take it now or sit around here and wait more.”

whoa.  i sat there for a minute.  i guess if i had my appointed counsel, this could be a different story.  but i don’t.  i bite my lip, take the deal, walk back into the courtroom, avoid the judge, and go up to the law clerk and write a check for 100 dollars plus surcharges.  and that’s the law.

The judge never gets to hear my case.  She doesn’t get to morally profile me in less than thirty seconds based on what her eyes see and read.  She doesn’t get to tell me that some bad experiences can be turned into good lessons.  She doesn’t get to make me cry.  She doesn’t have to make me wait.  She gets to have her prosecuting buddies shuttle me through the slipway so i can go out and be a free man. 

i’m not complaining.  i just temporarily don’t understand what fair is anymore.

see you down the road.  hope all is well.  look forward to seeing the countryside.  if it were up to me, i’d make a million dollars traveling and playing and you’d come see for free. 

—jason