The Slammer.com

"MODERN TIMES"

THE SLAMMER.COM

Lloyd Garver

Recently, I got the first speeding ticket of my life. I was driving too fast. If you want to consider that speeding, so be it. When I got home, I called the phone number on the ticket to find out what I was supposed to do next. That was my second mistake of the day.

A human didn't answer the phone. It was one of those computer voices: "Press 1 if you feel that you received this ticket in error, Press 2 if you want to schedule a court appearance, Press 3 if you want to find out about traffic school, etc." I pressed 3. After being told that my call was very important to them, I was put on hold. And hold. After about 45 minutes, I was suddenly disconnected. Apparently, my call wasn't all that important to them.

The next day, I drove to the courthouse, and picked up the appropriate forms and brochures. When I checked out the list of traffic schools, I noticed that many of them were "comedy traffic schools." I called one to see what that was all about.

The person who answered the phone told me that an aspiring comedian would teach the class. I asked her what kind of comedy I could expect, and she replied, "Traffic comedy." This is a sub-genre of humor that was new to me. I imagined the kinds of jokes that the would-be funnyman would tell: "A priest, a rabbi, and a minister cross a double yellow line..." and I thanked her and hung up.

Another option was to go to "online traffic school." I could read the rules of the road and answer some questions in the privacy of my own home and be done with it. I decided to go for it.

Immediately after registering online, I was overwhelmed by anxiety. Even though the program told me I could quit and resume anytime I wanted, I was convinced that if I moved one inch from my computer for a minute, it wouldn't remember who I was or what I had done so far. Also, the longer I sat there working, the more I worried that at any moment the computer was going to crash, undoing all my work. None of this happened, but the tension it produced, along with the hours in front of the screen, gave me a stiff neck.

As my neck continued to throb, I started thinking that the kind of punishment used for traffic violators could also be used for people who commit other crimes. I'm not talking about serious crimes of violence or removing that tag from the mattress. I'm talking about things like petty theft. Why not make the minor criminal go through what I had to go through?

Stick them on the phone with a talking computer that hangs up on them. Make them decide between the Comedy Thief School or the online approach. Make them get a stiff neck as they sit in front of a computer, answering questions like, "Is it okay to park your getaway car in a loading zone?" Make them sweat, worrying about a computer crash. Give them some sleepless nights agonizing over whether anyone at the other end of the computer is really going to send their records to the proper authorities.

Like us speeders, these guys would think twice before committing another crime. Let's face it, anxiety and a stiff neck are a much greater deterrent than performing community service. The only problem is that if petty criminals were really dealt with this way, the courts would probably declare it cruel and unusual punishment. Well, at least unusual.