"What the f*** you pull ME over for?"

It's Labor Day weekend. The whole family is returning from a trip to the drug store. On the way, we run into a sobriety checkpoint. Not exactly fun. How dare they? What if we were in a hurry? Oh well, I guess it's a good thing. We actually don't want drunk drivers on the road and I haven't had a drink since November 1994 but who's keeping track. The line of cars is moving slowly and as we pull up to our designated officer for the "check", I (in my mind) wait for instructions from the officer who is quite friendly. He politely introduces himself as officer so and so from the Emeryville police and that they are checking seatbelts and sobriety. He remarks that I clearly look sober, asks for my license, gives me a flyer to put on my dash, indicating that I have passed the test and I slowly pull off. That's exactly how it went down (in my head).

Right after we pull off, my wife immediately remarks that I was looking angry and rude and that I should not be so stand offish or confrontational. ??? Confusion. I thought you had to say "What the f*&k you pull me over for?" to be confrontational but she informed me that a flat affect, stone still and barely responsive, except to respond to requests like, "license please" or "show me your hands" is rude and confrontational and not the way you want to be to an officer of the law.

I am defensive at first but realize that I am never more aware of being a black man, (just like Rodney King or Fred Hampton) than when I am being pulled over or "checked" by the police. Hence, I may have been a little terse with the friendly cop, even though I have nothing to fear. I am not on PCP, speeding 100 miles on the freeway running from the cops, I am not leading a black liberation movement that is public enemy #1 of the FBI. I don't have weed or drink in my system or in the glove. No weapons. My license, registration, tags and car payments are completely legit and up to date. No outstanding parking tickets and no points on my record (anymore). Tail lights work, blinkers blink and the radio isn't even on. Why would I not be completely relaxed with my whole family in the car on a Sunday evening trip from the store. I don't even have dread locks anymore! Okay, I'm tripping. I mean don't get me wrong. I will never be the person who gets beat down because I didn't know how to follow directions. He could have told me to get out of the car and do the cabbage patch and I might have did the running man too, just not with a smile.

So my ever wise wife begins practicing with me the proper way to greet an office of the law. "Good evening!" (Big smile) That's sarcastic, try again. "Hello, hi." (less of a smile) That looks like a smirk. Not good. And so we go back and forth like this until I get it just right. "Good evening" (measured tone and cadence, but light and easy smile to follow and slight head nod with the head tilted just so) That's better.

So the whole drive home, I practice my cordial greeting to officers of the law. I got it down. I'm ready. Now I just hope it holds up if I run into an as*h*** cop.