From the Patriot-News, dated Friday, February 17, 2006, journalist Pete Shellem reports in "Pair receive probation in garage fracas" ("Local & State" section B, p. 1) on the sentencing of two Harrisburg residents, one Mr. Thompson--a dentist--and one Mrs. Thompson--"his schoolteacher wife"--for a May 8, 2005, incident in which the Thompsons were found guilty of resisting arrest, harassment, and disorderly conduct. Mrs. Thompson was found guilty of an additional (and my personal favorite) charge, "taunting a police animal, a felony that could jeopardize her teaching certificate."
Wow, sweeties, and here you thought scraping tartar off molars and grading Algebra quizzes was a hard-knock life.
So what the heck happened in that parking garage?
Apparently, "after a night of dining and listening to jazz" at a downtown hotspot, the Thompsons returned to the garage and attempted to exit. However, they could not find their parking ticket, a $5 value, and were told by the parking attendant that they would have to pay the full-day's charge of $18 to be able to leave.
A mêlée ensued. Although Mrs. Thompson "eventually found the ticket," the report states, "the situation . . . [had] escalated to include [Mr.] Thompson trying to force the garage gate up, arguments with a motorist stuck behind the couple, and an altercation with mounted police officers summoned by the attendant." As if there weren't enough eyewitnesses to the madness, a security camera caught the entire episode on tape.
The surveillance video showed Mr. Thompson "swatting" at one of the mounted officers and Mrs. Thompson "waving her hands" in the face of one of the officer's horses. The report concludes by stating that the Troublemaking Gentleman claimed he "didn't realize the people on the horses were police officers."
Hmmm. Interesting approach that, claiming a form of cognitive dissonance rather than copping the more obvious insanity plea.
Nonetheless, who could those "people on horses" have been? Here are a few of my theories regarding what Mr. Thompson might have been perceiving:
- Maybe he thought they were Amish and had lost their way--and their buggy?
- Maybe he thought he and his wife were about to be carjacked by unemployed mujahedin extras left over from the filming of Ian Fleming's The Living Daylights? (How they ended up in Central Pennsy I will leave for a good defense lawyer to explain.)
- Maybe he thought matches for the West Shore Polo Club had been moved indoors to a dingy, downtown Harrisburg parking garage because the horses were suffering from a peculiar and rare genetic defect--equine porphyria--which prevented them from frolicking outdoors in the gorgeous, abundant sunshine of a Pennsylvania spring?
- Or maybe he thought they were holding try-outs at the Whitaker Center for a hippodrome version of the musical, Gay for Pay: The Story of the Village People.
Well, you have to admit that any of these are plausible excuses. I know if I were the judge, I'd have believed them. However, I might still have had some trouble, given the last scenario, understanding why you would taunt the horses--mere props, mere pawns--and not the actors. "Hey, what's up with the two policemen? So you're too good to carry an Indian, a Construction Worker, a Soldier, and a Leatherman on your back?! To the glue factory with you, you uppity mares!"
Now it's not that I don't sympathize with the Terrible Two just a wee bit. The Harrisburg Parking Authority must be strong-armed weekly for protection money by the Susquehanna Valley chapter of the Cosa Nostra. Then the Authority turns around and shakes down drivers for the payola, as it does indeed charge $18 freakin' dollars for an all-day stay in one of their downtown garages. I mean, it's come a long way in the last twenty years, but it's Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, ferchrissakes. It's not like by parking here, I'm going to walk out the door and enjoy Roman ruins, the pyramids at Giza, Ayer's Rock, the Eiffel Tower, or Machu Picchu.
The situation also presents the challenge of dealing with other types of "authority"--civil servants (although I've always found the parking attendants still capable of offering a cheery smile while uttering, "That'll be $18, please") and the police. Enough said about my feelings toward that authority in this forum. At least for now.
So I can vaguely fathom where the Thompsons might have been coming from that night. Add in some rich food, a little demon jazz, and a long day at the office spent extolling the merits of regular flossing, and I, too, might have threatened to break off the arm of any parking lot gate that got in my way.
Being an occasionally good Green, I've opted to take the train to Philadelphia or New York, rather than driving. Thus, I've used the Chestnut Street Garage on more than one occasion as the "gateway" to the Harrisburg Amtrak depot. But a few days' stay in the garage quickly equals or betters the cost of your train ticket. And there's the added worry of arriving to the garage too late, after it has closed (it's not an automated, 24-hour facility), then having to call the parking authority to free your car from this late-night hostage situation. Don't forget to have $50 to $100 worth of cash on you to get the gate lifted--and better make sure you have exact change or the attendant will get a nice tip for "liberating" your auto.
At those parking rates and with all those hassles, it might just be cheaper and less frustrating to saddle up a horse and a packmule and make your way down the Pennsylvania Turnpike to Center City.
Oh, hey, judge, I think I've just figured out an appeal for the Thompsons . . . .
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