I got a speeding ticket last week. In truth, I got FIVE speeding tickets last week.  Three of them in one day, one the following day and the last on another. You’d think after getting one, I might be chastened and slow down. But no, there was no flashing lights, no stern policeman to lecture me, no weedling or whining, no “yes sir, no sir” that has served me well in America. (My girls saw that – in the black BMW I got stopped multiple times but drove off with only warnings and an incredulous “you’re so lucky, Dad.”)

All five tickets were electronically produced from cameras high above the roadway. They snapped a picture of the car and the license plate along with the computer stats of where, when and how fast I was going. All computerized radar, photo id and address determination. I’m betting that no human hands touched the notices until someone put them in the outbound mailbox and someone else dropped them in mine.  I’ve always been a  fan of technology, but in this case a real human chasing me down with lights a-flashing would have induced that little adrenaline rush and the post ticket caution that might have lasted the rest of the trip, perhaps even a day or two. Instead, I got all the tickets in the mail and could only be more careful on the next drive.

So, we went out today, along the same path as two of the tickets, but today armed with foreknowledge of what I was up against. And, as expected, I saw the cameras perched along the roadway, waiting like hungry vultures for another victim. I also watched as every other car on the road near there slowed to exactly the speed limit and then sped back up again after passing the cameras. Well, I can’t polite my way out of these tickets, but I can be like the rest of the romans here drive as they do, slowing down only for the cameras.