| rev:text
| - I love the 51 because, many years ago, I managed to lose a police helicopter that was following and tracking me with it's spotlight, in the middle of the night. I felt like James Fucking Bond 007. First of all because I have 0 respect for law enforcement officers and their Nazi-like "just following orders" arrests of people for victimless crimes, followed by locking them in government cages. Second of all, because I knew that the statistical chances of me ever being tailed by a Police helicopter and managing to lose it, at any time again in my entire life, approached 0. Third, because I spontaneously adapted an idea from an entirely different field.
Story time! Pull up a chair.
The setting: mid-late 1990's. Perhaps around 1996, 1997, when there was massive construction going on, on the 51. I lived downtown, on Roosevelt back then. Roosevelt then was NOTHING like it is now - most foot traffic was crack heads and transvestite hookers. But whatever, I'm from NY and I felt right at home. We're a tough breed.
I had spent the evening visiting some people who were friends at the time - if you remember The Congo, after it turned into the first Internet coffee house ("cyber cafe") in the Valley - it was the couple that made that happen.
It was late at night. I was driving home, tired. I just wanted to get home and into bed, so I was speeding. A lot. Next thing I know, there are light flashing all over my car. I look behind me and see nothing. Roll down the window and look up, thinking I'm about to be abducted by aliens in a Betty and Barny Hill type scenario. Nope! Just the Popos! They had their spotlight on me and were ordering me to pull over on the megaphone.
First thought: Oh shit. I'm going to jail tonight. I had probably been smoking some high grade indoor sensimillia or something similar all evening. I know, dumb to do that and drive. I'm much more responsible now, so if you want to give me a hard time for being a dumbass at the age of 23, go right ahead and I'll probably agree with you - I was a with an outsized ego because I was... a computer programmer at the time. Sounds dorky but unless you've been in that world, you have no idea of the massively exaggerated sense of self worth a kick ass software developer can have. Now that I truly am that awesome, I look back and laugh. ;)
Anyway, I digress, Back to my police problem.
Brainstorm! Amazing what the chemically altered mind can come up with.
I've always had an interest in military tactics and strategy, even though I never joined any army. I'm a history buff, and it makes history come alive. Only I didn't learn this tactic by reading about ancient armies prepping the battle field, or reading about their troop formations, or reading one of my all time favorites, Sun Tzu. I learned it by watching the Robotech and Macross cartoons.
I remembered a tactic called Fokker's Feint, named after a German WWI flying ace. In a nutshell - you're being chased. You gain speed but then slow down rapidly, before your opponent in the dogfight has a chance to respond. He zooms past you, you get behind, and now he's in your gunsights.
Since my car wasn't equipped with heat seeking missile launchers, lasers, or other cool accessories, just a CD player, shooting it down wasn't really an option.
Instead, a plan came together. The best part was, I realized that if it failed, they'd have no idea of what I was trying to do, so I had nothing to lose. Go big or go home! Or in this case probably directly to jail, not passing go and not collecting $200.
At the time, the 51 was under construction Well, lucky for me, this construction involved a long stretch of the 51 that was just ahead of me having no street lights at all. Also, there was an exit coming up - if I recall correctly it was somewhere between Northern and Bethany Home. I'm thinking Glendale, but as I mentioned, I wasn't exactly sober and this is going back a ways, so I don't recall.
Calculations going through my mind: I am going fast. (prob 90+). Helicopter going same speed. Tracked by helicopter with spotlight, which uses my headlights to tell where I am. Street lights which illuminate the freeway - off. I have one chance to do this right.
I sped up another 15 MPH so I was going past 100. Helicopter speeds up to follow, megaphone guy goes nuts, telling me to pull over. Then.... as I approach the freeway exit.... I turn off the car headlights, slam on the brakes, and pull off the exit. I watch as the helicopter zooms right past me, down the freeway. It then starts circling the freeway to figure out where I went - I watched, parked with my lights out in a parking lot right off the freeway.
My windows were rolled down and I'm pretty sure I heard helicopter guy drop the F bomb over the megaphone. I waited for the flying pigs to leave, then took city streets the rest of the way home, careful to drive the speed limit and obey all traffic laws.
Whew.
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