Having grown up in Brooklyn during the '50s, I was finally going to get special license plates for my convertible that would brag to the world that I was part of that mythical time and place.  I was going to get the old Brooklyn Dodgers logo- a big, blue "B" in a circle (yes, it is still available), along with the rest of the abbreviation KLYN."  As my turn at the Motor Vehicles Bureau came up, I decided to ask if the license plate "ETHICS" was available.  It was, and now my car has ETHICS and a picture of the Statue of Liberty in the front and in the back, coming and going.
     I figured that the ETHICS plates would accomplish two things.  First, they would keep people thinking about ethics during a very important activity - driving.  Second, they might get potential clients to ask me what the plates meant.   I would then tell them about my training consulting and ethics seminars.  What I did not figure on was a new and unforgiving driving modality.  Never again could I allow myself any of the cathartic behaviors that occasionally transform some of us behind the wheel.  In the past, I tried to drive ethically because it was simply the right thing to do.  Now I had saddled myself with the discipline of avoiding hypocrisy.
     Many of us "city" motorists believe we can drive anonymously most of the time.  When we follow all the rules, it is in large measure because we fear the police are watching.  Driving ethically is more challenging for me because, as a retired 27-year law enforcement veteran, even when someone is watching, I will probably only get a warning for any nonserious violations.  It has been about a year now, and it has not been easy.  It is just a matter of time before stopping for pedestrians will get me rear-ended ("C'mon, they're interfering with traffic").  I began listening to calming New Age music when I'm stuck in traffic jams (lest I join the others backing up the entrance ramp to escape).  I cannot double park at a fire hydrant or cover a parking meter (to pretend it does not work).  It has gotten so bad that even when the law allows you to park at a fire hydrant if the driver is there, I cannot do it.  Luckily, everyone goes ten miles over the speed limit so I can keep up with traffic and not feel guilty.  Twenty miles over, and I can see their lips in the rearview mirror:  "ETHICS? Ha!"
     In reality, I was a fairly courteous and civic-minded driver before the plate change and always hoped my colleagues would nail aggressive drivers.  As a veteran police commander, I have long been aware of the relationship between our traffic anarchy and serious accidents.  While many people carped at mayor Giuliani for the recent zero tolerance campaign on illegal driving, the New York Times reported that traffic deaths were down 37 percent for the first half of this year.  Now, however, I am more likely to step on the brake than the gas pedal when the light turns yellow.  Moreover, I no longer need the threat of a Traffic Department hidden camera to stop me from running the red signal.
     Thank goodness, I can still use my wife's car when I really have to get somewhere on time.