Officer Musso is not a beloved figure. Last week at Home Depot, “Moose” noticed a trailer hitch infraction and left a municipal valentine on the windshield of Big Truck’s hemi. The guy’s halfway in the door at the Java Shack and BT’s already winding him up.
“Damn, it’s hard,” says BT.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Been figuring how to get the seat belts out of my ride,” he replies.
“What? Why do that?” asks Moose.
“The whole nanny state thing. Sick of being schooled. This is good for you, that’s bad for you. Want to live free again – like it used to be,” says BT.
“This freedom thing is catching on,” Baja Shirt nods. “Not as sexy as the girls and their Free the Nipple crusade. But as they say in New Hampshire, live free or die tryin.”
“Unbuckle and live free,” Padres Hat makes it a bumper sticker.
“Sure, however briefly,” our barista murmurs.
“Come on, think about it people, why buckle?” asks BT. “Safety? Says who? Nothing but Boomer babble!”
“What about years of studies and tests done by big-name research centers and universities, crash test dummies, all that?” says Moose.
“Bah!” snorts Baja, “a bunch of back-scratching grant whores, in it for the money.”
“Yeah, and take a closer look at the Institute for Highway Safety. You know who’s behind that? Big, corporate insurance, that’s who,” says Padres.
“Or that National Highway Traffic Safety Administration – part of the executive branch – buried deep in the heart of big government. Busily eroding the freedom of American drivers since 1970. Ask yourself, why? They’re even doing research using biomechanics and human modeling – you think that’s OK?”
Moose laughs, with a straight face.
“And the worst?” BT cries. “Every year, your so-called Safety Administration doles out over 500 million smackers to the states for the specific purpose of influencing, be honest call it manipulating, drivers like you and me. ”
“Click it or ticket,” says Padres, “what a damn rip-off.”
“Looks like they’re running the same scheme with this climate business,” I suggest.
“Another freedom-destroying fraud,” roars BT. “Nothing but bought-out science, and researchers for hire, drooling for prestige and government bucks.”
“Get this,” adds Baja, “I heard that over 97% of the world’s top scientists read English. Think about that. They’re all in on it.”
“Makes me barf,” says Padres. “Pure scum. Trump’s new campaign manager got that right.”
“Time to make a stand, says Baja. “Just say no to the obvious treachery of global elites.”
“Me? I say to hell with them all. Get the damn nannies off our backs. Unbuckle and live free! Even sounds great,” declares BT.
“So, BT, you going to hook up with those freedom loving gals in the Nipple campaign?” I ask.
“Can only hope,” he chuckles.
I’m outside pumping more silver into the slot that never pays. Moose comes out, asks me, “BT’s just joshing about the belts, right?”
“Dunno. Have to wonder,” I shrug.
Let him think about it. Musso’s keen on nanny. The rest of us, not so much.
© 2016 David Leighton