Culture . 03/17/2008 10:09 AM . Rebecca Beach

I’ve been mulling over this topic for about a week now, debating whether or not to jot down my thoughts. Then I got pulled over last night. Debate over.

Effective March 1, 2008, New Jersey has made it a primary offense (which means you can get pulled over) if you’re a) talking on your cell phone without a headset while operating a motor vehicle, or b) text messaging on your cell phone while operating a motor vehicle. The fines are from $100-$250, not to mention the damage with the insurance company.

Yesterday evening, I dropped off my siblings and a friend to the weekly homeschool teen party (good times) and headed over to the nearest Panera to “study.” You know how that goes. After submitting to the siren call of g-talk, facebook, food and people-watching, I think I listened to about 30 minutes of my lecture. Four hours later, with siblings and friend back in the car, we headed home. As soon as I merged onto the interstate, I called friend’s mom to let her know we were on our way.

First mistake. I was talking on my cell phone. First primary offense. Second mistake? Taking the cell phone away from my ear and clicking “end”. Apparently this looks like texting. Second primary offense.

Immediately after the second off, I saw flashing lights. My heart raced. Oh my gosh, is he pulling me over? The girls were giggling in the back of the go-kart (my ‘92 Honda Civic has been affectionately and officially christened the “go-kart,” for obvious reasons ) and my brother was wearing headphones, completely oblivious to the events transpiring.

The flashing lights did not pass me, like I’d hoped. I was obviously being pulled over.

“License, registration and proof of insurance, ma’am.” I debated whether or not to hand him my Department of Defense Police Department-issued gold card – my “get out of jail free” card. No, I decided, I’d take responsibility for this one. Hands shaking, I gave him my documents. Thank God I’d just renewed my expired license – I had been driving illegally for about a month one week prior.

“Do you know why I pulled you over?” My cell phone was still in my hand. Without giving me a chance to answer, he continued, “I think I saw the phone up to your ear, and then it looked like you may have been texting. Where you headed?”

“Dropping these kids off.”

“So, where are you coming from?”

“A party.” (Advice: never tell a cop you’re driving home from a party. Lie if you must, but never tell them you’re coming from a party.)

“WERE YOU DRINKING AT THAT PARTY!” It was an exclamation, not a question.

“Um, no sir,” I stuttered. “I-I wasn’t even there.”

“Were THEY drinking at the party?!” It was abundantly clear all of my passengers are underage. Heck, I look underage.

“No, sir, it wasn’t that type of party.” Literally, they had been playing Dance Dance Revolution and manhunt all night. He wouldn’t understand, so I wouldn’t attempt to explain. Hopefully he’d take my word for it. After inspecting my vehicle, for a few minutes, he retreated back to the squad car to check out my driving history, etc. I have a perfect record, sir. Thank you very much.
My good looks must have counted for something – or so I’d like to think – because approximately 30 seconds later he dashed back to my car, threw the documents back at me and ran back to his vehicle, advising me to drive safely and have a pleasant evening. One second later, he was back on the highway, after a more dangerous criminal.

This may seem humorous to some of you – I am slightly amused as I sit on the couch writing. But when I give it some careful thought, it’s not funny. It’s a sign that the Police State has expanded its borders.

My first problem:

According to the new laws, I now have to use a headset. In my own experience, they are just as distracting as handheld cell phones. They fall out of ears, disconnect from phones and have crappy sound. I’ve almost crashed for all three reasons. Which is worse: looking down for a split second to press end or crawling over the passenger seat with one foot on the wheel to retrieve your dang Bluetooth? The mandatory headsets are also costly, especially if you are a struggling student, like myself, with a mere part time job. The government must have some kind of sketchy deal going on with the manufactures.

Experience and opinions aside, let’s take a look at the facts, which clearly indicate driving with headsets is nearly as life-threatening. According to The Home News Tribune, in 2006 1,854 accidents were caused by the use of handheld cell phones. This number dropped by only 128 with 1,726 headset-caused accidents. Five of New Jersey’s eleven fatal accidents in 2006 involved headsets. With such a small margin, can New Jersey justify this invasion into our freedom?

What else might be motivating the new laws? The ban took effect Saturday, March 1, 2008 at 12 AM. That weekend alone, in just 48 hours, the State Police dished out $14,400.00 in fines. Let’s just say New Jersey’s budget increases will be well-funded. Maybe we should skip to the point here, and just cut government spending.

Oh, and back to the sketchy relationship between the government interest and the retailers: these headsets start at $30.00. One New Jersey Verizon store has reported a 20% increase in Bluetooth and headset sales the first week. I’m just sayin’.

My second problem:

How do they know I’m really texting? I have a big problem with the officer’s words: “I think I saw the phone up to your ear, and then it looked like you may have been texting.” Think? Looked like? Give me a break. You can barely see into most cars, due to tinted windows, the rate of speed they’re traveling, and the distance between their vehicle and yours. Yes, maybe this time I really was “breaking the law.” But what if I had happened to be checking the time? Or glancing at the picture on the background? Or just pushing a button. Or dialing a number. How are the police to know exactly what I’m doing? Clearly, they don’t care.

Now they can pull me over because I appear to be texting. This gives them a chance to check out my car with their blinding lights. Then they’ll find my drugs. Busted. Well, but assuming that I was breaking the law because my hand drifted below the top of the steering wheel should not qualify as enough “reasonable, articulatable cause” to invade my privacy.

I am perfectly aware of the dangers surrounding texting while driving – we can all probably agree it’s not the wisest decision. But like most people, if I want to text, I’ll find a way to do it. And the next time, I’ll probably crash because my hand (and eyes) will be under the dashboard, concealing my contraband.

My third problem.

Where will this lead? The New Jersey State Legislature is headed down the slippery slope to major increases in government control. Since they’re all about protecting their citizens and promoting the general welfare, I’ve helpfully compiled with an entire list of dangerous activities while operating a motor vehicle that should likewise be banned:

Eating. Talking (read: fighting) with passengers. Applying makeup. Drinking coffee. Driving a manual. Reaching for something on the floor. Holding hands. Picking up child’s drink from backseat floor. Taking eyes off road. Listening to music. Passengers, period.

Holding my phone with one hand should be the least of their worries. Maybe we should just ban vehicular traveling and eliminate all possibilities for harm. After all, weren’t we all taught in driver’s ed that vehicles are lethal weapons? Why take the risk?

See my point? To what extent will the government interfere with my liberty all for the cause of “protecting others” – and making a hefty profit?

Maybe the police should stick to budget reform and let me send my one-line text messages, change my radio dial and touch up my mascara in peace. I’m certainly not paying to give up my privacy.

Rebecca Beach is a junior in college. She is also a caring, concerned citizen of New Jersey who enjoys texting, good looking policeman, and exposing government corruption.


<