Word Cops On Patrol
Maybe you know the kind of day I'm talking about. The air is creating the big 60, winter is on the wane, and the Diag is bristling with anticipation. Something spontaneous just might happen. On any given day I may or may not be one of those events. Even that assumption can trip you up. The weather was prime and the people were there to hea some slagging on the Govt. So just as I have for the last 15 years or ao, I put on my baggy pants, painted my hair green and strolled up to the Diag to unload.
Just about the time the GOP rumbled onto the scene to finish off the Democrats last November it was time to hibernate for the winter. But today was different. It's high noon now and you have to start somewhere. Somebody yells out "Stoney...what do you think of Newt?" "Fuck Newt Gingrich!" I say it loud enough so that the MTV casting party ambiance is rippled but not concerned. There's always the chance that no one will listen. Unfortunately a young, but heavily armed U-M policeman is listening. Meanwhile I'm letting even more steam off about Grinchrich. I'm just starting to warm the voice and roll the words off the tongue.
"You can't say that here, pick up your things and come with me!" I heard his voice and met his glare. Yet, I felt I've done this all before. At just about every school I've spoken at. The same command and stare. I've spoken on the podium at the Republican convention, as the host of my own TV show, and as well on the campuses of University of California at Berkeley and the University of Michigan. Each venue has it's own peculiar set of rules. Free Speech in my twenty-odd years of experience can be as unpredictable as Michigan weather.
The officer motion toward my performing box and he repeats the command. I inform him as calmly as possible that the Constitution gives me tacit permission to critique the powers that be. He's not buying the free speech rap at all. Starts twisting his neck and talking into his radio. I'm thinking this could be a long day with another trial of the century to bore people with for the next six months. He's done talking on the radio and starts demanding some ID. He wants to see if the green hair is pictured on the license. My head says I should cower and comply. My body senses that I might have a better go of it if I just start doing a crazy dance.
The crowd is getting bigger and the laughs are starting to come. Meanwhile the World Cop is announcing to come. Meanwhile the Word Cop is announcing that if I won't give him my ID "he'll just get it himself." Now i guess that he's auditioning for an episode of "Cops." About 200 people are watching him search bag of tricks. He seems pleased as punch when he finally finds the wallet containing the ID. When he finds the ID, he removes it like state evidence. Now another officer shows up and stares at me for awhile. Probably hoping I'll say that word again.
While the officers are waiting for some describes the feeling of...getting away. Would this be one of those days? I keep talking, trying to make a desperate situation interesting.
These are tense moments. Not knowing whether the riot squad is hyped to go or maybe Dr. Thundersplatt is searching for a more reasonable solution to the Word Crime. It's in these moments that I flash back to all the great times I've had on the Diag. To stand tall when you know you're right, to face off with the conservative twats on their own turf, that's what the Diag means to me. I'm not about to let some rookie security guy fence me away from the cheapest and I think most cosmically connected online facility there is: The Diag. Out under the blue sky with my feet firmly planted in Mother Earth. An by golly I'm going to hold my ground and maybe some other people will too.
"Let's put these mountain bikes to good use by building a barricade because I am going nowhere!" The tension is doubling in a funny sort of way. Now I'm counting six cops. More desperate jokes. What do you say when that might be all you are going to be saying for awhile? Now I'm getting mad knowing that I have to go back to work (cabdriving) with no license and who knows what charges. Word Cops cruising the Diag. Just like they will be surfing the internet soon. I find out later that if there had been women and children present they would have pressed charges. Like what is this...lil house on the prairie Diag? I mean what century are we living in? People have a right to listen to protected speech in the DIAG for pete's sake! Shouldn't there be a Free Speech area in every city, village, and farm where people who can't afford to go online can voice their opinion?
So now the cop conference is over and the offending officer offers to give my license back. I say, "Why don't you put it back where you found it? I never gave it to you...remember?" Now he's in a jam, he can't very well just put it back with the same nonchalance that he took it with. Finally he says, "If you want to, come down to the DPS office to get it." With that, all of the uniforms leave. There I am tangling with the Word Cops on my first day out. Anything after this is anti-climatic. I manage to joke that "these officers and I travel around the country performing this word search and seizure circus. How'd you like the show this afternoon?" I am exhausted, must go home and call lawyers and the media. I decide to go down to DPS in the morning. Trouble can wait.
In the morning I am riding my bike down Kipke (find that on your map drivers!) to retrieve my DL Out of DPS comes the veteran officer I had seen the day before at the Diag/ He yells behind me as i ride by: "Hi Stoney! Everything's OK. You can pick up your stuff in there." I smile. The spirit of the Diag comes through again. People ask me all the time why I speak at U-M and UCB. Mainly for the simple reason that I can. And you bet I am going to continue to do it. As I tucked the DL back into my wallet and rolled into the hot sun, I thought of all the times I didn't get away. Too many stories to tell. This one is among one fo the sweeter tales.
The day following the return of my license I attended my first-ever drug test orientation meeting up at the Yellow Cab office. The pink, wrinkled face Ronald Reagan flickered spookily from the video monitor. He sternly reminded me of my right to remain silent while the Feds took the piss out of my bladder and the words out of my mouth. As I sat listening to the plan to ship my urine to Utah for testing, I couldn't help but wonder, "What will it take to get our right to privacy back?" In the end, it will be up to us. And as a result, there is one place I know of where you can say "Fuck Newt Gingrich!" and be pissed off at the same time. The Diag!
Want more laughs? Try the Diag, noon-ish to 2 pm-ish any Monday or Tuesday when the weather permits. Or check out "Stoney Does Houston," a satirical look inside the 1992 GOP convention-available at Liberty St. Video. And, of course, watch his cable TV show, Stoney Speaks TV, every Tue. at 8:05 pm, channel 9, CTN here in Ann Arbor. For further information about Stoney's 1996 campaign, you can write: Stoney Speaks TV, 317 S. Division #84, Ann Arbor MI, 48104.