More Entertainment Columnists

• J.A. Montalbano: At the movies, having the time of your life
• Lisa Abeyta: Snippy swimmer deep-sixes my trip to pool
• Tribune staffers pin their hopes on these fall films

MOST RECENT TRIB STORIES

• ABQTrib.com to remain available
  08:48 a.m., February 25, 2008
• Congressman is indicted
  08:37 a.m., February 23, 2008
• Series of attacks target Green Zone
  08:36 a.m., February 23, 2008
• Iran is defying U.N., agency says
  08:35 a.m., February 23, 2008
• Waterboarding approval probed
  08:34 a.m., February 23, 2008

TRIB IN THE BLOGOSPHERE*

• Ty Murray Invitational thrills fans in Albuquerque
• Is Rome Burning?
• Ominous Skies
• The Road to Invalidation
• Albuquerque company participates in “Extreme Makeover: Home Edition”

*Note: The Tribune does not create and is not responsible for the blogosphere's headlines and stories. These links to blogs talking about ABQTrib.com are automatically generated. Use them at your own risk.

STORY TOOLS

• E-mail story
• Comments
• iPod friendly
• Printer friendly

SHARE THIS STORY [?]

I'm worried about Albuquerque's red-light camera program.

It's not so much earning a very hefty fine if I manage to get myself stuck in an intersection when the light changes. What keeps me awake at night is worrying about that traffic camera flashing a permanent photo of my mug while I'm stuffing my face with a french fry from my kid's Happy Meal. I have nightmares that the video of my infraction of Driving While Dieting will earn top reviews on YouTube.

Thanks to those cameras proliferating faster than rabbits in spring, I now maneuver our city's streets like a novice driver's-ed student. I stop at the intersection, even if I see the right turn arrow flash to green. What if the camera thinks I'm supposed to stop? If it's green, do I stop first and then turn? Do I whip on around the corner before it turns red? These days, that really is a hundred-dollar question.

It's gotten so bad that I'm having this recurring nightmare. In my dream, I'm driving along a major arterial littered with red-light cameras. I begin to wonder why the city hasn't figured out how to write off those brand-spanking new silver camera poles as art. They're all sparkly and shiny, a downright lovely shade of silver compared to our drab light poles. If city officials could pass them off as a variation of all of those monster-pots along the freeway, maybe we could even decorate the poles with cool squiggly lines or something.

I'm engrossed in this wonderful idea when I see the stop light turn red and the right-turn arrow switch to green. Filled with indecision, I slam on the brakes and watch the guy behind me skid to a halt as a 64-ounce Big Gulp sloshes on his dashboard. He doesn't look happy at all.

I check my hair in the rearview mirror. Do I look OK? I think of that poor officer forced into reviewing red-light camera footage for hours on end. If I get busted, I would hate for him to think that I drive around with my hair a mess. I tuck in a stray tendril. I am now ready to brave a right turn on red.

I count to three. Slowly. One-Mississippi. Two-Mississippi. Three-Mississippi. As I lift my foot off the brake and ease into my turn, I pilfer a french fry from my kid's Happy Meal. It's just one small fry, I tell myself.

Then I see a bright flash. I look around in panic. Was it the camera going off? Did I get busted with a fry in my mouth? Or was that just the sun glinting off another car?

The guy behind me lays on his horn. It seems Mr. Big Gulp has squeezed through the green arrow behind me. Maybe he's the one who got nailed by the camera, and it didn't get me after all. I speed up before I'm rear-ended.

And that's when the nightmare really begins. I hear a talk show host on the radio announcing our mayor's newest agenda. I dream he's convinced the City Council to ban Driving While Dieting.

I can't blame him, though.

I think he was the guy behind me at the light.