so finally a cop turns around behind me and pulls up next to me. I'm all tense from the maneuver and she asks if I'm out for a walk. I didn't want to say "yes" becayse it'd be a lie; nobody takes about 30 pounds of food, water, and communications gear for "a walk". I say, "I'm... walking... up the coast." as soon as the words were out of my mouth I started kicking myself, but she just said something like "Thanks, just checking if you're OK."

why was it so wrong to answer a simple question like that? because it doesn't help solve the problem. cops should always be schooled on the constitution, every time they disturb someone's privacy in the smallest way.

so why did I give such an inappropriate answer? any number of reasons; I was sleepy. she had a nice smile. it was an unanticipated question. but none of those were it. the truth was, I was in a moment of weakness because I was having a full-on pity party.

I was cold and in lots of pain. my lower back pain has improved greatly, but my shoulders, neck, and feet are bothering me a lot. and the cold this time of year is a lot worse than it was in late October as I was working my way down the coast instead of "up". I was tinkering with the thought of blowing my 6 months of frugality out the window, putting a hotel room rental on a paid-down credit card, having a good wank, a hot shower, and a long night's sleep.

these death marches up the coast with survival gear are what I need for preparedness training, and I can't let myself get complacent. I need to be mentally strong, ready to explain to these cops that their oath trumps their curiosity or even their compassion for a fellow human (if such indeed exists). the amount of other peoples' freedom and privacy they may infringe upon is precisely 0.00000. and you know damned well if they're asking a white guy this, they're doing a lot worse to our black and Mexican brothers.

at least twice before on this trip I got some attention from cops. the first time a police car approached was when I was near the end of Harbor Drive in San Diego, about to go under the near bridge and over the far one; they stopped, looked at me, but didn't get out. then they sped away.

another time was earlier yesterday, when I was in that development at the San Clemente shore. when I finally got back out, there was a cop parked across the street, no doubt (in my mind, anyway) called by that bitch-and-a-half who gloated that I had to way to get out except by going back the way I came. anyway, I nodded in his direction, acknowledging his presence, and he drove off. he probably doesn't enjoy serving the ruling class any more than I like being ruled.

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last updated 2016-04-26 10:14:55. served from tektonic.jcomeau.com