“Why don’t you just do a license plate lookup?”  “How about one of those reverse license plate searches?”  These are the questions that my mom always asks me when I call home.  She hates the fact that I’m on the road all the time.  At least she takes comfort in the fact that I have License Plate with me, but really, I don’t think that gives her that much peace of mind.  Regardless, I’m still on the road searching for license plates and stories.  Today was an interesting one.  It actually went in a direction I hadn’t intended.

Middle of Alabama.  It is hot out today.  I forgot how miserable it can be in the south during the summer.  I seem to always plan my outings poorly.  I’m in the north during the winter and in the south when the heat starts boiling up the middle months on the calendar.  My friends need to get their schedules more in accordance with mine, that way I could crash on their couch when I don’t stick to the leather because of all the humidity.  Sorry, long day.

So here I am, cruising the streets with License Plate in tow.  We’re just on a walk at this point.  It always feels so good to stretch our legs once we get out of the car.  I can search for license plates on foot much easier than in the car.  I don’t have to worry about crashing in to anything and even if I do, because sadly it has happened, I’m no worse for the collision.  I was up the street from my friend’s apartment complex when I came across this girl having some ice cream.  Well, she was trying to have some ice cream.  The heat was too much for it and it had succeeded to drip down her arm and on to the bench she was sitting on.  I sat down next to her because there was a dog drinking fountain and License Plate looked like she could use a fill up.

We started talking about the weather and how her ice cream looked good, even though it was melting.  I joked she must not be from the area if she was brave enough to try to eat ice cream in the middle of the day.  She giggled and told me that she was from the town, but she had a craving for some strawberry ice cream while she was on her lunch break.  It seems that she is a data security officer for one of the insurance companies in town.  Once she finished up her cone, I started walking with her and talking some more.  She eventually came to a black Lincoln towncar and stopped.  Of course I looked at the license plate and suggested she must like her job since it said DATAGRL.  Once again, she giggled and told me that it wasn’t her car, but she thought it might give me the hint that I should “dat(e) a girl.”  She asked me out then and we had dinner that night.  I thought that was such a corny way of asking someone on a date that I had to share it with everyone.  It was a good date though, so I’m not embarrassed relating how it all fell in to place.

It has been a busy day.  I talked my way out of another ticket (link to cop one in texas) and won $75 on a scratch lottery ticket.  It is a good thing that when the police search my license plates they always come back clean.  I don’t know how long I can keep dodging these speed traps though.  I don’t think it helps the fact that I almost always have out of town plates when they pull me over.  I know that in Indiana and Michigan, if you’re in either and have just crossed over the border, you are more likely to get pulled over if you’re an out of state driver because they know you can bring in more revenue than someone in state.  I learned this from a friend who is a State Trooper.  The people you meet.

License Plate and I were driving down I 24 in Tennessee the other day when we came to this little town outside of Nashville.  I hadn’t been to this state in a long time and really wasn’t planning on spending too much time here.  I had a friend waiting for me in Georgia who was getting ready to ship out for the military.  Regardless, I ended up having to stop for gas and to get the tires looked at.  While my sweet Toyota runs really well, there is only so much she can do about keeping me from hitting rocks and nails and goodness knows what else on roads next to construction sites.  It all worked out though.  And I came away with a great story to tell.

I filled up at a little service station that looked like it should have been closed.  I’m really happy that I wasn’t.  As the elderly mechanic came out to take a look at my car, he informed me that he was also the owner and the only person who was there who would be able to help him.  He was an incredibly friendly man and he asked me about my out of state license plates.  I explained I was heading down to see my friend before he left for his tour of duty overseas.

When I mentioned the military, this old, hunched over man straightened himself up.  He asked me what branch my friend was in and I said the Army.  He straightened up even farther, which I wasn’t sure was possible.  He explained to me he was proud to see people still serving this land’s military after all the time he spent in it.  After a few basic questions, he launched in to his story about storming the beaches of Normandy on D-Day.  He was the only man on his boat to survive the landing and he was wounded in the leg as he took cover behind a breaker.  He ended up not getting the bullet removed for three days.  He never stopped fighting though.  He just kept pushing on.  That’s what they had to do to free the world from evil.  He showed me the bullet casing.  He keeps it around his neck.  He also showed me his license plate WWIIJN6.  June 6, 1944.  D-Day.

Hello again from the road. It has been a long couple of days and I’ve actually had to reverse some of my thinking as of late.  As I search the license plates around me for something good to write about, I really am amazed by the people that we meet.  So many different people, with interesting stories, and only so many that I can record.  Anyway, the person I ran in to today had the tag BABYRUS.  I didn’t need to do a reverse license plate search to find this person; I just walked up to them on the street.  License Plate was spending the day at the local vet getting a check up and a grooming.  Even though I travel around a lot, I still take care of that pup.

The woman I ended up talking to about her license plate is a nursery designer.  I’d never heard of this occupation, but apparently it is all the rage in Europe, where she happens to be from.  The south of France to be more specific.  Her car is a business expense or so she is able to say because her license plate helps her find clients.  It is interesting, actually, because her business card says the same thing.  BABYRUS.  I asked her how she got started in the business and she told me that both her parents were nursery designers.  I couldn’t figure out if her family were the only ones to ever do this type of thing or if it really is a popular occupation in Europe.  I wonder if you take an aptitude test as a child, if that is one of the options that you have.  Maybe.

In talking with her, I found out that her license plate was a relatively recent purchase.  When she first arrived in the US, she was trying to come up with a clever name.  Apparently she was shopping at a mall in the Midwest when she came across a ToysR’Us and thought it would be a great name for her business if she replaced Toys with Babies.  It took her a little while to figure out that there is already a business with that name and that they sell all types of baby accessories, including stuff for the nursery.  Frustrated in that attempt, she decided she would try the singular version.  She figured it would fit nicely on a license plate and after she did a reverse license plate lookup online, she found it was open in her state, Ohio.  From that, she said that everything had fallen into place for her.

Despite the emphasis that I place on license plates and my goal of writing a book about them, I think she is even more passionate about them than I am.  I’m always happy to meet people like that on my travels.  I’m always excited to learn about new occupations that exist that I’ve never heard of.  Time to pick up License Plate and get on our way.

Seattle this time. I watched a lot of Frasier and I really liked the show. I’ve been to this town a few times and despite the belief that it rains here all the time, it has only rained on me twice. Today was bright and sunny, so I decided to take License Plate for a walk. This is always her favorite part of our travels. Something new to see, a new smell to pick up, and as always, a dog park to play in while I talk with the other owners. Man, I can’t imagine what this journey would be like without her.

So while she was wrestling with a black lab and a golden retriever that seemed to have some hip displacement, I went to the little vendor selling human and canine treats. I bought her some new treat, I’m sure they were nowhere as good as the tofu ones she loves, and got a soda for myself. I then sat down at one of the tables and struck up a conversation with the guy sitting next to me.

He seemed decent enough. He had an Alaskan malamute running around trying to get a sniff of License Plate. She wasn’t having any of it. But we started talking. I told him I was just passing through and asked him if there were any sights I should see before he left. He gave me some suggestions and asked if I was in town for business. This was a bit odd, because I don’t know too many people who bring their pets with them on those trips, but I explained to him that basically wherever I go, I’m on business. Unfortunately he thought this meant that I was a drug dealer and asked me, subtly, if I could hook him up with some weed. I told him no.

So after some more questions and me not wanting to really get in to too many details with him, I told him that I had noticed a really nice church on my walk toward to park. He said it was some old one that had been rebuilt, but was pretty nice inside. At this point I was just making idle conversation and not trying to get into a discussion of religious, but he went on to give me a suggestion about something I should see in town. He recommended that I go for a ride on the “end of the world” taxi. Apparently its plate is 666 TX.

The driver really has embraced his role. He has bibles and rosaries for sale in the back seat. Pictures of the apocalypse are all around the side walls and cover most of the plastic divider between driver and passenger. Oddly enough, for a taxi that has 666 as its number, I was informed there are no pictures of the devil. Tyson, the fellow dog owner, explained this to me. He also let me know that he had driven a little devil in the corner of one of the apocalypse images and that he felt like he was making a contribution to the truth. With that I smiled and nodded. Searched for License Plate in the crowd of dogs and headed out. If you’re in Seattle, avoid Tyson, but try to find that taxi. It sounds interesting.

In all the traveling that I do, I have my own views about where people speed and where people don’t. If you are in Chicago, everyone speeds. If you are in New York, oddly enough, no one speeds. In Texas, apparently, I am the only person who speeds. But in my defense, northern Texas can be a really long and boring drive sometimes. This time was no exception.

I was coming from Arizona, having spent a few days visiting with some family out there. I had a good time and Arizona hadn’t been an issue for me. Neither had New Mexico. I did almost hit a roadrunner though. That’s not a joke by any means. A roadrunner came out of the desert and the guy in front of me swerved, I swerved, and then once I slammed on my breaks and skidded to an abrupt halt, another roadrunner walked out of the desert right in front of my car. So thankful nothing happened. At least I didn’t see Wily E. Coyote chasing after them.

So there I was in Texas. Having escaped mortal danger and damage to my car. This is why you should have a dog seat belt if you are driving around. I can only imagine License Plate having been thrown up against the windshield if she wasn’t buckled in. I’m driving down 380, doing about 80 miles per hour. There isn’t another car on the road. Or so I think. I wasn’t anywhere close to a city or a town either. Yet, this is where I get pulled over.

I didn’t even give this car another thought. He was going in the opposite direction driving a red Firebird. It was a nice looking car, but what caught my eye was his license plate. MRDONUT. I figured he was some sort of delivery guy. Maybe a baker. I did not think that it was a county trooper on his way in to work. So, he goes past me and then all of a sudden I hear tires squeal. I think he might have hit something, so I look in my rearview mirror. Oh yeah, blue and red lights from the little portable siren he just put on the top of his car.

I pull over. License Plate gets all happy because she thinks she is going to get to play on the side of the road, but I kept her in the car with me. The trooper approaches and asks me if I know how fast I was going. I said 75-80, but I was out of town and didn’t know what the speed limit was. In all honesty, I hadn’t seen a sign forever. He says since he was coming at me, he couldn’t really tell my speed. After looking up my license plate and seeing I didn’t have any other tickets, he gave me a warning. I said that was fine and I would slow down. I never actually asked him why his plate said MRDONUT, but I found it ironic that a cop would have that. He must have a good sense of humor.