OK, what’s the big fuss? I thought, as I sat there at a stop light with a motorcycle policeman looking directly into my rear-view mirror and therefore my eyes.
I was about to find out.
Sure enough, as soon as the light turned green, on went his lights and siren.
“Great,” I muttered to myself.
He casually followed me as I changed into the right-hand lane and turned into a bank parking lot, pulling up behind me as I searched for my insurance card and registration.
As he walked up to the window, he showed me the radar gun.
Not as bad as I thought, was the first thing through my mind.
“Why aren’t you wearing your seatbelt?” he asked
“Um, ahh. I just pulled out of Starbucks and was in a hurry. I guess I forgot to put it on,” is what came out of my mouth, though I knew better.You see, I grew up in the seventies and eighties in Wisconsin. My parents had a ’69 VW bug convertible.
If you’ve ever been in an old VW, you know how well those seatbelts worked, if they were there at all. There was never a habit put in place for me to get my seatbelt buckled. There was never modeling of proper seatbelt wearing by my parents back in the early days.
As I got older, and my parents got different cars, my mom started to insist that I wear my seatbelt while I was in the car with her. It never completely caught on, though.
I remember wearing my seatbelt during my driver’s exam (which I took at age 17, because my parents wouldn’t let me get my license until I had a ‘B’ average for a semester), but I thought that it was just a technicality so the tester knew you knew where it was.
As I went off to college I heard lots of people talking about how seatbelts save lives, but I never thought about it. I was, after all, still invincible. Even Barbara Mandrell couldn’t convince me with her public service announcements.
I left college, and got into the “real world” (no, not the TV show) and saw more and more of my friends being responsible and wearing their seatbelts. I continued to rebel.
I started dating a girl and got engaged. She started riding me about wearing my seatbelt. I wore it for her, mostly so she’d stop asking, but also so the beeper in her car would stop.
But I still didn’t get in the habit of putting it on when I got into the driver’s seat of my own car.So there I was, lying to the cop. I didn’t forget my seatbelt. I was just an irresponsible adult who had gotten into the habit of being rebellious and not wearing one.The officer took my information back to his bike with him, and I saw him filling out some paperwork.
“Pretty unjustified to give a guy a ticket for going seven over,” I thought, while checking my watch to see if I was going to make it to school in time for my first hour class. It would be one thing to be late if I was a student, but I was the teacher…
He was quick about it, though, and when he came back to the window he handed me my documents, and tore my copy of the ticket off. What came next was a surprise.
“Well, James, you need to slow down through here. But, since I’m on patrol with the ‘Click-it-or-Ticket’ campaign, I’m going to overlook the speeding, and just give you a ticket for not wearing your seatbelt.”
Whew. That’s really what I thought right away.
He let me go on my way, and I made it to class with a minute or two to spare, and I was relieved that I’d only gotten a seatbelt ticket.Since that time, though, I’ve started wearing my seatbelt more. I’m still not perfect. I forget sometimes. But that’s happening less and less often. I know I need to work on it, and I am.
I can tell you one stretch of road where I ALWAYS remember to check for it, though, and that’s right where I got pulled over.
Thank you, officer, for getting me to think a little bit more about my safety, and about the piece of mind of my wife-to-be.
And thank you, Click-it-or-Ticket campaign, for getting officers to do this all over the state and country. I know I’m safer now, and I’m sure there are lots of others like me.

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