"watchya gonna do when the come for you?"

As I pried my fingers from the steering wheel, the red lobbing cherry lights surrounded the car like a disco ball on crack. Nope. Not a Technicolor Dream or a groovy drug experience, but our first night in Chicago...actually, our first 2 hours in Chicago....

As we all know, I HATE driving, but have learned in this past year, that sometimes its just how it is. In Los Angeles, we creep. We snail crawl. Its the reason why talking on a cell phone here is NOT that dangerous as traffic doesn't really flow (although I say this, knowing that 90% of the population here just can't drive, so chatting on a cell is NOT a good thing). I walk faster than traffic.

Here we were, the a.m. in Chicago. Got off our flight into 35 degree temperatures, which were alarmingly glorious having had just sat on a smelly, meely and overly warm flight. With our windows rolled down in the rental car, I took us on a journey into the now desolate downtown of Chicago.

The city was glorious -- clean, a little blustery, but still alive. People were still on the streets, leaving bars and/or coffee houses. We drove north to Fullerton, the street I used to live on. Further north we went by Wrigley Field and then the Metro (The Smashing Pumpkins made their BIG debut there). I did a u-turn and we drove south to Wells street to see the new area where there was once a huge chunk of Cabrini Green, one of the most notorious housing project areas in Chicago. We then sped down to Michigan Avenue to see the light display from the carefully placed Xmas lights as well as the buildings.

After an hour of sight-seeing in the city, the clock read: 3 AM and I decided it was time to trek out to my dad's house.

I couldn't quite remember which of the two main highways were being worked on. I'd only heard thru many curse words of friends and family that it S.U.C.K.E.D.

As we flew down the 90/94 toward Indiana, I thought we were scott-free, that is, until we hit the one-lane, one-horned Flying Purple eater -- dead stop. We sat there for a while as I realized, it was 1 a.m in LA. and I am old and tired.

We cut down a side-area, one of which I thought were a familiar area to find that we were NOT in the best part of town. I am talking scary, but no worries. We drove down until I found a familiar street to go South on.

When we finally got to a named street, I started to fly. Forgive me, but my L.A. darlings all know...if you are able to fly down the street, you will. Its almost as if the Heavens opened up to allow us to cough out our under 35 mph cobwebs.

It was fabulous. It was fun...that is, until I flew our car by a mass of cheery-blazed cop cars that had already pulled over another dumb a-- person. That person would be me. A car pulled up on the left, the right and in front...very similar to a "COPS" episode only my Darling Sidekick was slouching down in the seat whispering as he sunk deeper into his coat, "OMG...why didn't you stop??" As Officer Schmoe walked up I suddenly heard the anthem, "Bad boys, bad boys, whatchya gonna do...whatchya gonna do when they come for you" as I handed him my California license which immediately got a laugh from him, then my insurance papers. He then mumbled something about "rental car."

As Officer Schmoe walked off to commiserate with the other officers, I suddenly felt the sick despair of, "how much is this going to cost me?" and "wow, i haven't had a ticket in over 6 years," all true. DS and I started going back and forth about what was going to happen...was I going to the klink? Were the Fuzz busting me??

Many minutes passed and I imagined this mass of tickets being handed back, followed by handcuffs, camera lights or something.

Instead, Officer Schmoe walked up, scratched his head and said, "We have a bar brawl to break up, so here is your "warning citation." Go home and hang it on your fridge as a reminder not to speed..."

Was it wrong that I was dying to follow them to a bar brawl at almost 4 a.m on a Tuesday morning?

Unfortunately, modern day gizmos will not allow me to show this "Warning Citation" online (but I did try!)

Hope your holiday was wonderful!

"Jagshemash! My name Borat. I like you. I like sex. Is nice"

I try not to overdo reviews on here, but I have to give the credit of HIGH FIVES, thumbs up, fists of rage, Academy probability .... all the way for "Borat". I have never been to a movie where the entire movie theatre laughed consistently throughout the movie, nor have I been to a movie that is SO offensive, yet NOOOOT (inside "Borat" joke). I can't say much more except -- SEE IT!!! See why a movie that only had 1200 screens this past weekend made the #1 spot.