Police Public Relations

 

In the mid-1970s while assigned to the Montrose area of Houston, the City posted a series of No Left Turn signs at the behest of the local Neighborhood Watch group.  There was a pattern of traffic which had cars continuously circling through residential areas, back onto the main thoroughfares and then back through the residential areas.  Basically, these individuals were looking to ‘hook-up’ with like-minded individuals, I’ll let you draw your own opinion.

The Department didn’t want to unnecessarily upset the more ‘tolerant’ segment who regularly frequented that area and so the first week after the new traffic signs were installed, with the intent to alter the annoying traffic pattern, I was sent to provide warnings rather than issue traffic tickets to anyone who failed to comply with the new traffic signs.

I’d no sooner arrived when I observed two vehicles simultaneously make a left turn off of Montrose Boulevard onto Lovett Street.  I stood out in the middle of the street and flagged them over to the curb. 

When I approached their vehicles, I asked each driver for a driver's license and they handed these over to me.  The lead vehicle had been driven by a Catholic priest wearing the customary black shirt with the small white collar.  I explained that he probably hadn’t seen the brand-new traffic sign and asked that he be more aware in the future as I let him go.

The second vehicle was driven by a more ‘progressive’ individual who might have attended Woodstock gauging from his appearance.  The idea popped into my head, have some fun with this guy.

I explained that I only had one ticket left in my book and that it was obvious that, "I couldn’t write the priest, so I had to let him go".  My words landed on his ears and settled in as I pulled the traffic ticket book from my back pocket as if I planned to start writing.

The veins in his neck immediately began to swell, “You can’t do that! You…you can’t do that!” There was a form of righteous indignation attached to his vocal cords as the words came out.

“You’re probably right”, was my reply as I reached into my pocket and took out a quarter.  I flipped it in the air, caught it and then slapped it onto my wrist.  “Call it, heads, or tails.  This way you have half a chance.”

“You can’t do that!”  He was turning red faced, “You can’t do that!”  I let him vent for a moment of two longer as I pulled out my traffic ticket book, showing him I had plenty of blank tickets that could be used.  “Please be more careful and pay attention to the new traffic signs”.

I’m not sure if this falls under Public Relations or simply Jacking with Folks.

Price Gouging or Fair Market Value

 

This past week the connection where the city water hose line feeds into our RV broke. Water was gushing out the end of the hose and I shut off the water, examined the issue and figured it would be a fairly simple repair since a standard water hose is connected to a fitting built into the side of the RV. 

I was mistaken; the connection necked down to fit the half inch diameter hose fitting on the other side of the flange.  I couldn’t simply hook the water hose up without the specialty connector which contained a pressure valve.

It was late in the afternoon on Friday, I had to scramble over to the hardware store before they closed at 5:00pm, only to find they couldn’t help.

Not being a regular fix it yourself type guy, I found out you can’t visit the local hardware store, walk over to their plumbing section and purchase an RV replacement part.  The term ‘proprietary’ was used by the owner of the hardware store as she explained the folks who sell RV replacement products won’t sell those parts to hardware stores in order to force folks to purchase these ‘specialty parts’ from the RV outlets.

I understand the use of proprietary marketing, don’t like that it’s done; but that’s how the free-market system works.  It’s the same reason you don’t go to the Chevy dealership to buy a replacement part for your Honda.  You might find an aftermarket replacement part at Auto Zone; but then it might not be an exact fit, so you end up having to go to Honda anyway. 

The next morning we’d planned on going into Houston anyway and would pass by the RV dealership where we’d purchased our 2022 Keystone Bullet.  Perhaps, we thought, since the RV was less than a year old the broken part might be covered by warranty.  The folks at the parts department explained that they weren’t the ones to ask, that we’d have to take that up with management.

I should mention that I’d called their parts department on Friday to see if they had such a part in stock.  The fellow put me on hold for a few minutes as he checked and then said, “Yes, we have them in stock and, depending on which one you need, it will cost between $25 and $30”.

However, on Saturday morning the fellow who greeted me showed that they only had one RV City Water Fill connector and it was going to cost me roughly $54.  He went to look for others that would be in the back stockroom but explained that the one on display was the only one in stock.  I gritted my teeth, reached into my wallet, and paid cash.

I knew I could get the same product on the internet for less than $20 plus shipping and handling; but since we had family in town for the weekend using the RV, we didn’t want to wait a few days for a replacement part to be delivered. 

The replacement job took only a few minutes. The part needed was the black plastic half inch diameter pressure valve connector which was held in place by two flexible tabs to the chrome ring.  Apparently, many RV units used a separate single flange cover for the city water input whereas the newer RV units now have all these water connections under one elongated oval flange held in place with 8 or 10 screws. 

With a pair of plyers, the two plastic retaining prongs were depressed freeing the connector from the chrome flange.  That connector was then pushed through the elongated oval flange plate and the hose on the RV side screwed on exactly as it was designed.  The standard water hose from our faucet was then connected to the brass pressure reducer piece and the job was done.

Thinking back to Saturday morning’s adventure, the fellow working at the Holiday World of Willis knew I had to have the part and never flinched as he handed me the receipt.  I checked the mirror in my car as I drove out of their parking lot; no, didn’t see any blood dripping from my nose either.

Fifty-Four Dollars for a part that probably cost less than two dollars to make.  Yes, that’s what most folks would consider price gouging.