This is obviously a first draft.

To Whom it May Concern,

Yes, I was speeding. My vehicle was going 76 in a 55 MPH zone. Furthermore, I was too busy fumbling with the stereo to notice your officer in the unmarked Camero with lights blazing, riding my bumper for a full minute.

Yes, I broke the law with impunity but not without good reason. Despite my reckless nonchalance, your officer wasn't stationed at the US-22 turn-off from I-5, where I was nearly bounced off the highway by several quarter-ton trucks. The drivers, no doubt abusing the most sophisticated radar detection devices on the market, had little patience for my observance of your fine county's traffic laws. Rather than have my ancient vehicle crushed, which would have put a serious damper on my weekend plans, I had to keep pace with them.

Your officer caught me a long, straight downhill stretch of highway- a cunning, merciless spot for a speed trap if there ever was one. To maintain the posted speed limit of 55 MPH, I would have had to ride my pathetic vehicle's brakes to the point of smoking. Imagine the smell of burning early '80s-era Toyota pads, which is olfactory equivalent of ten crushed skunks. To offset the potential stench and an accident with the criminally insane Dodge Ram enthusiasts that litter Highway 22, I had no other choice but to speed.

Furthermore, the fact that your officer decided to ticket the driver of a 1984 Toyota van, littered with bumperstickers and with no discernable Blue Book value is the very definition of smug cruelty, a stern abuse of power, especially given the $35,000 steel hulks I had to contend with. I suspect that he may have been employing the central-Oregon equivalent of racial profiling: Old van + driver under 30 + obnoxious stickers = EZ ecstasy bust. My sober demeanor and quickness with license and registration clearly disappointed him. I offered him no reason to suspect the presence of nonexistent illegal substances in the vehicle or in my stomach cavity. He barely asked my question about area wildfires before buzzing off in search of something that will no doubt land his face on the cover of the Statesman Journal.

Now I'm stuck with a $237 fine that I can't, and frankly, given the circumstances, unwilling to pay. My vehicle isn't even worth $237. Nevertheless, I am a reasonable human being, as I'm sure you area as well. There's no reason why we shouldn't agree on quick resolution to these matters. Here's what I propose:

My former landlord still has not returned my $500 security deposit. According to the lease agreement, he has 45 days to do so. As of today, August 8th, I've allowed him 53. I clearly can't afford legal representation and don’t know how to circumnavigate the waters of small claims court. Plus, he isn't returning my phone calls. Since your county's police department evidentially has too much time on its hands, a trip to his home in SW Portland would neither unrational or unrealistic. We're talking about a 30 minute drive up I-5 corridor and a quick shakedown. Given the highway patrol's passion for extortion, the process should be swift and easy. The landlord is a retired dentist and he can't run that fast.

I'm perfectly wiling to give Marion County $300, $237 to cover the ticket and $63 to cover the cost of expenses for the shakedown (food, gas, nighstick polish and batteries for the stun guns). Do we have a deal?

Sincerely yours,

Blog