Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Slug Life-Hard Core

The other day I heard a short burst of a scream coming from out back near the brick house. Upon my arrival I saw Ms. Arcen regaining her bearing and looking face close at the wall slowly reaching out with her pointer to touch whatever was slugging along the brick surface. Yikes, not one, but two giant slugs living the slug life leaving behind a mucus wet trail of epithelial cells in their slug wakes. I bet you are imagining waking up one morning only to realize that the entire lower half of your body is covered with thousands of these slimy terrestrial gastropods undulating across your skin.

Look at the eyeballs on this fellow so far apart, this species must be related to the lobster?
They were not good subjects who could hold their pose long enough to get the exact scale we were looking at but hopefully you get the idea, these things were big, bigger than any I had ever seen.

Monday, August 30, 2010

Recent Photos

I do not have too much to say this morning. Instead I present to you these photos that I made from my secret location up high in the Duke Non-Renewable Energy Building on Friday afternoon. The images are not great by any means, but I do think that the view is unique and worth sharing. Later in the week I will share more from this spot that are a totally unrelated in subject matter but perhaps are even more interesting.

Yes, the Panthers are coming back this season as they have not yet been sold to New Orleans.
Bank of America owns this property and identifies that with its Corp Logo several times.
Directly facing the South End is Near...
Same turned to landscape.
A 105mm x the 1.6 or whatever peek into the Park on the Green.
One Wacky Fargo, formally One Wachovia.
Awesome, notice the brand new NASCAR HALL OF FAME and directly behind it the tall mirrored window NASCAR Tower attached. Well on Friday while I was making this picture the bank was announcing that the NASCAR Tower was about to be Foreclosed upon. Amazing, the chincy building radiating even more heat has not even been open a year. Fine progress indeed gentlemen, well done.
Westin, 550$ USD a night is fair trade for a room in the skinny building.
The 105 sees deep and
definite filtered by the haze.

Friday, August 27, 2010

Friday Foster Needs Home and Family

photog unidentifiedLook at this face, pink nose, blurry moving tail wag and all! Attention all of my NC Mountain readers...

This dahg is a happy one who was found recently roaming the earth alone after he broke free from the chains that bound him to a life of misery. Cliff is an approximately 9month old in tact Yellow Lab that is presently under safe foster care in the Asheville NC area. Initial reports confirm that this fellow is a sweet caring K9 who gets along well with the pack and with people who are nice to him. If you or anyone you know can help with a loving home and permanent adoption please contact me and I will be sure to get you connected with the source taking care of Cliff. Look at that pink rubber nose!!!

Thursday, August 26, 2010

Cloud/Thought of the Week

Monday 1600hrs over South Charlotte. I made this image facing directly south from the second floor landing of an iron fire escape on the outside of an old brick building.
Islam did not bring the buildings down, a newer ideology produced the resulting destruction. I did not have a television that morning, only a phone in my pocket and my kid at my feet. When it rang I knew immediately that an ideology in trade for ideals was at the source quanta of the action. For one minute consider the endless blow back potential created by a nation's foreign policy related to what's in it for the people of that nation after years of collective avoidance to actually accept responsibility for that policy and the consequences that it creates.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Charlotte's Mayor Unveils Yet More Toon

Yesterday not all of the local media was at the courthouse covering the Demeatrius Montgomery trial. At midday the B team hit the square for a dog and pony show displaying Charlotte's latest support for the ever present progress of Toon. That's right folks, lets just keep on tooning up the toon as a domestic strategy for a Nation at War. All we have to do is not think or talk about it and everything is fine as long as a Marine is willing to kill and die for it. In trade for the toon it all makes sense.

I warn you now, the following images may disturb some of my more sensitive thinking viewers. Whatever you do, don't look away. Look at the sign board below: The World's Only Collection of Street Legal Bumper Cars. Wow, how great for the people...
The anticipation builds in the crowd to a fervor slightly more loud than a murmur.
The press corps braces itself for the building excitement as Charlotte Mayor Anthony Foxx arrives to give his personal approval for such an authentic toon project like Street Legal Bumper Cars.
Our Mayor leans back to let the Bumper Car Professional do his thing.
Here the Mayor is asking about the turning radius of these new vehicles while a Nut in costume looks on.
Authenticity is in the experience...
The Nut is covering his eyes as he whispers to the Mayor, "Sir, you should ask these Bumper Car specialists a question."
"And what would that question be?", the Mayor responded under his breath.
The Nut trying to desperately hold back his laughter said, "Ask them if the Street Legal Bumper Cars are authorized to make illegal turns on the Square." Mayor Foxx obviously did not think that joke was funny even though deep down he had to have laughed...
"Yes Sir, these things are able to make illegal turns on the Square but with your position power I am sure you can get any cop who was rookie enough to pull you over to let you go sans summons with a little wink-wink, nudge-nudge and that great smile you have. I mean, you are the Mayor and everything."
"Hey young man. Pull my finger."
"Pull it harder!"
"Isn't it funny I just suckered you and you took the bait like a fool", said the creep in the Nut Costume.
Progress Rolling.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Season's Greetings

According to Santa's official Christmas Countdown Tracker there are only 121 days left until the happiest day of the year returns with all that it provides humanity once again.
The Traffic Stop would like to take this opportunity to be perhaps the first to wish all of you, each and everyone, even the anonymous Trolls who thought that when I was cuffed in May that it was actually my fault a MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

Monday, August 23, 2010

The Verdict

May 14, 2010 at about 1630hrs on East Trade in front of the Transit Center. Read the original story here.
Both photos credit of: James Willamor/ CLT Blog
At that moment the cuffs came off I knew that I was not guilty.
First of all big thanks to the Wevenator, and Mark for your wishes of pre-court fortuity.

I formally waived my right to an attorney this past Friday at the first afternoon docket call of criminal courtroom 4310 in the Mecklenburg County Courthouse. The prosecutor called my name and I firmly replied, "Not Guilty." He approached where I sat and asked me if I was sure that I was prepared to defend myself at a trial in front of the judge. I told him that I was and that I understood completely the implications of self representation. The red headed fellow nodded, made a note on the outside of my file and let me know that I would have to sign an affidavit. Back to my seat on the long bench in a row of many there to have their cases brought before the court. Listening to the anger and gravity of some of the crime made me feel vulnerable and sort of dirty in way that I felt like I did not belong there. I was completely awake and aware. Time passes with many guilty pleas, punishments and extensions of time to both misdemeanor and felonious charges. I wondered how many of these folks were there because of a mistake in process or a misunderstanding not completely taken into consideration by law enforcement. The story of the Good Spirit came to mind, the strength I pulled then came back to me at that moment sitting there feeling the weight of the brightly lit negative energy.

After almost two hours of various other criminal appearances my case was finally called for the first trial in front of Judge Tyyawdi Hands. The prosecutor announced that Mr. Fehr was prepared defend himself from the charge of: resist delay or obstruct officer XXXX #XXXX, a public officer holding the office of public officer by interfering with him trying to get pertinent information on a traffic collision. At the time, the officer was discharging or attempting to discharge a duty of his office by getting all the pertinent information for a DMV/Police report. I stood alone at the defendant's table as not only the actual defendant but as the defendant's council and only witness. There was no one else that had to be there other than myself, the only person that I truly count on. Judge Hands asked the prosecutor about the location of my signed waiver and he replied that it had not yet been presented to me yet. So, when he turned to hand me the affidavit he searched for a pen but I was already prepared clutching the gold plated metal pen I carry for work. As soon as I signed away my rights he asked for permission to approach and then handed the paper to the judge. She looked at it, and then at me waving the paper for the court to see and then she said, "Mr. Fehr, if I accept this from you, you must understand that if you are found guilty there could be up to a 60 day jail sentence for this crime. Are you prepared to defend yourself?" I replied with a bit of a nervousness in my voice that I was indeed aware of the consequences and that I was completely ready to defend myself. "Let the record show that Mr. Fehr is waiving is right to an attorney, please proceed Mr. Prosecutor", the judge said from her bench.

The State(which included two prosecutors, what looked like a rookie female Asst. DA and Officer Kodad, the state's witness) called the police officer to the stand while I sat there watching and listening intently to every voice inflection in the transfer with my hands at my side, palms open to the front. An attorney sitting in the front row not involved with my case tapped is friend on the leg and quietly pointed to my feet, identifying that I had sandals on at the defendant's table. It was at that moment I realized that I was dressed like me in the role of myself. I was wearing shorts, a short sleeve Kenneth Cole shirt that I found for 2.50$ at the Salvation Army, of course sandals and my messenger bag was slung over my left shoulder. No costume, just me. The line of questioning from the state to the officer never revealed that I was working when I stuck my hand in the ambulance to grab the pleadings. The prosecution asked the police officer around 13 questions before ending with, "We have no further questions your Honor."

"Mr. Fehr, if you have any questions for Officer Kodad, now is your opportunity", Judge Hands said with an encouraging lilt in her voice. I was stuck in a moment at that second digesting the answers that the officer gave and the way that the prosecutor portrayed the events of that afternoon as a sterile series of situations arising from the crash of a cyclist who they thought was my friend and that what was really happening had nothing to do with my work, my living source. "Yes ma'am, of course, thank you."

My questions to Officer Kodad started with my statement of apology for both him and I having to be there and then without time for response I went into my first question. It went something like this and was a bit nervous but honest, Officer Kodad, do you recall on that afternoon of May 14, the day that I allegedly got in your way, that the National Rifle Association was in town? He looked up and honestly thought to himself about the crowd we were surrounded by and what all of those mustaches felt like in the heat. "I do not recall exactly", he said, adding that, he did remember the large crowd in the heat in front of the transit center across from the Time Warner Arena(which was hosting the NRA and all of the NRA diesel buses jammed up to shuttle the weak a mile back to the hotel for more food).

My next question was specific, in a trembling voice not used to being a lawyer I said, "Sir, can you tell me what fell out of my hand and hit the ground when you grabbed my right arm to put the cuffs on me behind my back?" He looked stunned, but professional never looking away from my eyes. " I do not recall"' was his response. I then immediately looked at the judge and said, "I have no further questions your Honor." Then she told the officer that he could step down and go back to his seat behind the prosecution table. "Mr. Fehr, you may call yourself as a witness and give your own testimony at this point", Judge Hands encouraged. So, I stood up and took the seat next to her, just below her right shoulder.

I leaned into the mic and started in a bit of a trembling voice about how I had gotten the call from my rookie Josh telling me that he taken the door prize, was launched into the back of a stopped Gold(Bum) Rush Trolley bus and that 911 response was on the way. I told her that Josh was not only a cycling friend but that he had been working with me for almost eight of the twelve years that I have been a legal bicycle messenger in Charlotte. During that call he let me know that he had court work in the bag. It was after 1600hrs and my first thought after Josh's well being was to get the work done and back to the two clients before 1700hrs on this Friday afternoon. My explanation was thorough about what I saw when I arrived on scene. Josh was in the back of the ambulance and I could see him through the open side door on a gurney. As soon as I saw his eyes I knew that he was not going to die so I asked him where the work for the court was. He reached into his bag and passed through the door a pleading and a research ticket. I grabbed them with my right hand. It was then that the officer engaged me and as he had already said on the stand when responding to one of the prosecution's questions, "He was in cuffs within two minutes of arriving." My paper hit the ground and was left to someone kind enough to take my work to another courier, the 2006 24Hour Solo Single Speed Mountain Bike World Champion who did the work for me and met my client's expectations. My testimony ended with my own memories of not really getting in the way of the officer doing his work while I was focused on doing mine. Silence broken by the judge, "Is that all Mr. Fehr?" "Yes, ma'am."

She then asked the prosecution if they would like to ask me anything and he responded quickly with a, "No, your honor." I stepped down and found my seat alone behind the defendant's table again. The judge asked the prosecution if their summary was ready in which the state's attorney attempted to hold up the charge based on Officer Kodad's judgement. His summary was short, and it ended with a language that I could not understand, like something going blurry in your vision, the communication was audible and intelligible one moment but then it faded into a noise like the school teacher from Charlie Brown makes. I concentrated on my summary in basic thought fashion and could not hear anything else that he said. The state's summary was over quickly in a few sentences.

It was my turn to give summary. Standing back straight with my hands at my side once again palms open I told the truth to Judge Hands. I tried to keep it short and be different from my own testimony. My thoughts honed on the quanta point of this problem. I was never guilty to begin with which makes trying to be exonerated for it such a difficult thing to manifest. Yes, I can use manifest that way. My living is centered around the courthouse, I have no record and have never had trouble with the police generally speaking. Conveyance and feeling emotions are a gift that I have been trying not to squelch since I was seven years old. Feeling my own inner body emotional self within my voice I ended with, "that is why I feel like I am not guilty, your Honor."

Judge Hands called the prosecutor up, they talked quietly and I could not make out anything other than that she was the decider and he would have had to say yes when she asked. He came back to his table once to pull me up on the criminal binary data bank and when he found only a 5mph over speeding ticket from the past, he shrugged and approached the judge's bench again. After they convened again for a few minutes she had him sit down and then called me to stand to receive my verdict.

I did stand, palms open again at my side facing her and the truth. "Mr. Fehr, I find you Not Guilty, you are free to leave", she said with a smile, a real smile not overly exaggerated from a position power, more like one subtle in transfer of understanding. I immediately thanked her and broke for the door down the main aisle which all of a sudden looked like a Christian Church to me. Over my shoulder, I heard her say, "Officer Kodad, please approach." Out of the doors to the left and then the melt down came. Just like when justice was served in the Good Spirit's case, relief, but a huge sense of urgency to get out of the building even though my emotional body was trying to freeze my physical one. I found a marble hole on the 4th floor and cried. Public Officer Kodad came out minutes later and we had transfer. I told him that his job was way more dangerous than mine and he said that what I do is pretty hazardous too.

Finally my shit was together long enough to get to my bike locked on the plaza in front of the courthouse. A public defender lit up a smoke while I unlocked and told me that what I did up there was brilliant, and that he loved to see that kind of shit. He saw my case come up and when he realized I defended myself into a Not Guilty verdict he was moved to congratulate me. "That was awesome man, way to go", he exclaimed as I put my lock in my bag. Thanks, was the only word that came to mind, and as I looked at the PD's face I realized that, that kid's authentic smile being blown up by the sun will be with me for awhile. It was over, I was never guilty to begin with, so how could I be now...


Friday, August 20, 2010

Court Day

Two days in a row now I am posting via my eye phone hand held transmitter. It is a quiet morning here in the uptoon with a low cloud ceiling hanging just above my head enveloping the tops of the few very tall big buildings. Light rail commuters hurry off the silver blue train for their labor destinations. Sitting on this wall I can feel the lack of heat compared to, oh I don't know, the rest of the summer days since May. There is a light breeze carrying a faint fragrance of something man made, like even parts oil, metal and carbon.

You may remember back in May, the day that the NRA was in town that I wound up detained by an officer holding the office of public officer when I responded to my junior courier's accident scene. I nee know how to create a hyper link from here so go to the May archive to refresh your memory and see those amazing images of me in cuffs by James W. from the CLT Blog. Today I stand prepared to defend my innocence in the county courthouse where I do roughly 75% of my normal courier business. I feel comfortable in that building and will prolly be recognized by at leat one deputy in the room who will no doubt want to know what I am doing there not working. "Superman cut down two trees is up in this courtroom", says the deputy with huge bowling ball arms about to rip out of his tan brown uniform. Be sure to check in Monday for the verdict and a story of justice.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

40X Inbound

My bike is on the front rack and I am in a dry place and moving time compared to the wet urban water ick I can see passing just on the other side of the window. The heat acidic hate smell makes transfer with rain in gray brown black liquid flow istead of belief. The crazy lady that I sat next to on the side wall where I sit now the last time I rode the bus rambling about her dream physical nightmare reality is not here today. She was skinny and her teeth bad with one on the front replaced by a square chunk of silver looking metal. As I first listened to her, my impression was that she was chatting with the first row of polished plump Bujahideen. Turns out they were only interested in laughing with quiet voices faintly covering up their fear. I tried to engage the skinny lady who was now rocking forward and back chanting about the man not getting off of her. I asked her to tell me when it happened. Big round brown eyes below a long forehead and short cropped wirey hair looked at me confused and said, "No, it was a dream I just woke from." A dream loop in the present that turned back to the front row and started rocking forward and back all over again. She was gone and I felt helpless as I explained to the bus driver who seemed more without help for the woman than even I had. I am now staring out into the shades of gray morning and just realized that it's cold on this bus. We are about to get off the belt for the downtoon. The first stop is mine in front of the over crowded county jail, across 4th Street from the courthouse. US Mail awaits and the streets are wet.

Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Cat of the Week

Meet Yancey. She is named after the ridge that I was riding in the mountains one day in May of 2004 while simultaneously back in the Jar St. Lissa and Ms. Arcen found the tiny kitten on the side of the road with other Samaritans trying to pick up the pieces after auto viper tragedy struck the mom cat leaving her babies helpless.
Don't let that nonchalant dismissive look fool you, this girl is all cat. She is a killer amongst the bluders.
Yancey has always seemed very familiar to us. Her transfer came around the time we had lost Josephine which seems connected. This yellow eyed minx is wide awake and looking at me upside down right now as I type. She looks like she is about to tell me something like she often does.

Monday, August 16, 2010


Frank back in early January on a Saturday afternoon having some transfer with the often moody and vexatious Muffin. As you can see not only does Frank run the farm property that was established before the not so Civil War, but Muffin came around.
Mein Schatz atop Brandy that same chilly day.
This summer she has spent almost all of her time between early morning and early evening, Monday through Friday out at the farm. I have noticed an undeniable change in her stature and her ability to continue growing stronger inside and out. Frank pulled me aside Friday evening after we watched her last summer performance and explained that he felt similar. "Where is the time going", he asked in North Carolina rooted drawl, adding that "she is holding herself more maturely than ever, like she can feel it." "That's great news, we are noticing it as well", I told Frank.

This is her leading Chaco, Frank's boy down to the big oval.
Chaco carries himself like a professional when he is quietly and physically communicated to.
Trot to canter in the wind below the sloped grassy rise, my kid is indeed growing.
Thad, your comment from my previous post rings loud and clear. This girl has a few best friends of the horse variety.
Walking Chaco back to the stable to untack(I am not sure if that is the appropriate terminology and she is not near me to ask) him and let him cool down under the shade of the trees out in the pasture.

Monday Morning Photo Post

Cruising Tryon, doubled up.

Friday, August 13, 2010


Happy Friday the 13th folks! Don't let this black cat and/or the orange white one below add to your status of luck or lack there of on this fine sweltering day in the southern mid-Atlantic.

Meet Pumpkin
and Maggie. photog for both images unidentified.
While on my hand held transmitter yesterday being scolded for noticing the truth in an image transfer, a 'HOT' email came in from St. Lissa that originated from Theresa, a work friend of hers whom I have met several times before. Theresa is a Pittsburgh native who constantly gets involved in making positive differences out of somewhat negative situations.

Theresa has asked for my help in circulating the following authentic story of how hard our now is for so many of the humans that we are surrounded by. These are her words in her voice.

I have a friend who recently lost her husband. He passed away on July 12th. She has an 18 month old daughter and just gave birth to another baby this week. In addition to this she has a dog and two cats. She is looking for a home for the cats. It’s just too much for her to take care of them and everything else. They are both female, around 10 years old and spayed. Please see attached for pictures and below for info. The cats need to be gone as soon as possible or they could be taken to AC, where based on their age and the fact they are owner surrenders I assume they will be put down without even a shot at adoption. Do you know of anything we can do or anyone I can contact to save them? It is okay for them to be separated.


Orange and white

9 years old

Not up to date on shots (probably been about 1 1/2 years since she has gone to the vet)

Would do fine in a home with other cats, but does not do well with dogs. She might do okay with a small dog that is very subdued.

Does great with my 2 year old.

Loves to sleep on the bed with you


Black and white

11 years old

Not up to date on shots (probably been about 1 1/2 years since she has gone to the vet)

Needs to go to a home where she is the only cat/animal (does not get along with other animals AT ALL)

Does not do well with children

Has always been an indoor cat, but still has her claws, so she might do okay as a barn cat.

These domestic felines are special in a special situation. If you can help by adopting please contact me at whereonearthisbill@gmail.com and I will be sure to get you in touch with the source. If you cannot brings these mews home please take the time to circulate the info contained in this post to your 'social' E or face to face network. Nothing like a Friday morning Networking Solution.

Thursday, August 12, 2010

Wednesday, August 11, 2010

Inner/Outer Body Healing

On Friday Morning, a few minutes before leaving for work I was outback running barefoot with the big dogs for the house when I smashed open the bottom of my foot into the corner of a brick on the back deck. Immediately my run came to a stop, I grabbed the back of a chair and looked down knowing that what I was about to see would need attention. Ouch. I panicked a bit internally trying to figure out if I could get this blunt force laceration protected in enough time to make it to work. It started to bleed vibrant red blood onto the deck, so I pulled myself up even though I was standing and moved to the bathroom where I put my foot under the faucet in the tub and flushed the wound with cold water. Burning. Next came the hydrogen peroxide which when mixed with my blood turned foamy pink swirling down the drain. Then I cleaned the area with alcohol which reminded me once again how alive I feel. I dressed the wound with an antibiotic ointment coated 2" gauze pad and then wrapped it with tape. There was no way that I would be riding my normal commute and when I looked at the kitchen clock I realized that I was even too late for the last inbound 40X bus a mile away at Lawyers/Idlewild. Within no time I loaded my bike and bag into the Montero and was headed down the road only a bit late for work. My foot hurt and I wondered what the day would bring. Was I going to have to go and use that wonderful health care insurance that I have been paying for for years, or was I going to be able to take care of this one myself?
Photo taken in the afternoon on Friday after I made the first re-dressing of the wound by Mikey Garzon
It was a difficult day on the job because every time I pushed down on the left pedal I could feel the sharp pain throb in my shoe. The problem became even worse when I was off the bike walking on it. Limp apparent. When my day was over I decided that I would try to fix this one myself by taking care of it and going to a place of internal healing over the two day weekend. The next morning I told myself to breathe slowly and deep while I sat alone in the back under the hemlock tree in the sun. Two days of looking in and I could feel my skin holding together and sealing itself. In the hot sun I drifted in and out of a meditative state for what seemed like two consecutive days. The area was clean and very much alive. By Sunday evening the cut looked much different than it had Friday. There was no sign of infection and the inside of my foot was no longer exposed to the outside world. I went to work Monday with just a light wool sock over it hoping to keep the dirt out. On Tuesday(yesterday) I kept the sock off and instead put a large band aid over the boo boo. When I got home from work I noticed that the wound was just about healed completely.
Photo made yesterday evening by St. Lissa

Tuesday, August 10, 2010