Home Opinion Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Flopportunity Flost

Mine Creek Revelations by Louie Graves: Flopportunity Flost


JUST LIKE THAT! Another year has passed, and downtown Nashville STILL doesn’t have a duly authorized, certified (and armed) J-Turn Traffic Law Enforcement Officer.

For ___ (insert a number here) years I have tried courteously but in vain to get the mayor to take advantage of my offer of almost free service. I ask merely that he officially designate me for the position and publicly give me the oath of office so we could get a picture for the newspaper. I could easily issue enough tickets to pay for a modest salary.

In avoiding his duty, the mayor has used a familiar excuse — “I’m working on the city budget for ___ (insert a year here).” While he’s fiddling away with that alleged budget, J-Turners are thumbing their noses at everyone in the area stretching from the railroad tracks all the way four blocks north to the Post Office stoplight — before J-Turns disrupted this area it was called the Central Business District. Now it’s Arkansas Badlands.

I’m sure that if me and other law officers could ever get a J-Turn terrorist into municipal court the judge would literally throw the book at him/her/it (I don’t want to ignore transgender lawbreakers).

Just this last week I saw a massive dually diesel pickup pulling a horse-trailer make an illegal J-Turn and it blocked three lanes of Main Street plus four parking spaces. Well, maybe I exaggerate a tad.

But, enough of my exaggerations. Recall all that I have done:

•I’ve obtained, at my own expense, a closet full of 2X size camo uniforms — winter and summer patterns and colors. I even got a standard set of pink Air Force camos to wear on National Women’s Professional Volleyball Appreciation Day.

•I’ve repeatedly applied for, unsuccessfully, a concealed handgun permit from the Arkansas State Police because I think this position should be armed and ready to shoot wildly over the heads of fleeing J-Turn criminals whose thoughtless actions pose such a danger to the unsuspecting public.

•And I’ve filed an official complaint with the Office of Economic Opportunity that the Arkansas State Police concealed handgun permit mental examination requirement is a violation of my civil rights.

•I have practiced shouting “Stop, in the name of the law” too many times to count. I will admit that I sometimes get confused with Diana Ross and the Supremes and I shout “Stop, in the name of Love,” which might make a flustered fleeing flee-er flee faster (say THAT three times flast).

I’m not even sworn-in yet and already I’ve had a great idea to enable our town’s beloved Official J-Turn Enforcement Officer to serve his appreciative public even better. I would get a semi-truckload of filled sandbags from FEMA, and buy a deer stand at the next Arkansas Game & Fish Commission auction of confiscated stuff, and I would put the stand in the middle of downtown Nashville at the corner of Main and Howard in front of Ruth Steeley’s insurance office where I would have a clear shot for two blocks in any direction. Long hours spent in the stand would be lonely, and I’m sure Ruth would have someone bring me an occasional cup of coffee and a low-cal donut.

I’ll actually put the deer stand on the west side of Main because my experience has been that most illegal J-Turns occur in the afternoon when the drivers are probably looking forward to spending their welfare check in a long night of boot-scooting on the Oklahoma line. The sun would be at my back and it would be easier to get off a good shot.

Even better, I could mount some powerful searchlights on top of the deer stand so that I could shoot at those sneaky nighttime J-Turn violators. Who cares if the streets are empty of other traffic? That’s not the point. It’s the intent of the law that is important, here.

There’s only a few cold, gray days left in 2019 if the city hopes to get a tax write-off for having a certified J-Turn Enforcement Officer. I say let’s take every advantage we can get. There’s no telling how many J-Turn tickets I could write between now and midnight of New Year’s Eve.

Just remember my pledge: I will steal only what I need, and I will give warning tickets only to the hottest and most deserving female J-Turners whom I’m sure would use this as a learning experience and not brag about it to their girlfriends.

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MY CHRISTMAS TRADITION. My late wife won our Christmas tree argument easily. She wanted 10 strings of lights; I wanted one.

Okay, I said quickly admitting defeat, “But you put up the lights and I’ll take them down.” That seemed fair enough to her. She covered the tree with strings of lights, grinning at the thought of me trying to untangle the 10 strings later.

A few days after Christmas she reminded me of my de-stringing duty.

So I got the scissors and started cutting the strings. “Wait,” she said in a panic. “You’re ruining the strings.”

I agreed. Strings cost a dollar. My solution did not make her happy.

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THINGS I LEARNED from reading (and believing) stuff on the Internet: The cruise liner, QE2, moves only six inches for each gallon of diesel that it burns.

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WORD GAMES. Twins: Alive and Well. I want to be like them.

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HE SAID: “I once wanted to become an atheist, but I gave up – they have no holidays.” Henny Youngman, comic

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SHE SAID: “I read everything. I’ll read a John Grisham novel, I’ll sit and read a whole book of poems by Maya Angelou, or I’ll just read some Mary Oliver – this is a book that was given to me for Christmas. No particular genre. And I read in French, and I read in German, and I read in English. I love to see how other people use language.” Jessye Norman, African American opera singer

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