What's with me and the police? Saturday, Doug and I were at Evergreen Cemetery here in Jacksonville - a public place that's the site of at least one visit a year from the Jacksonville Camera Club. I was setting up to take a panoramic shot when a little jelly bean shaped car shot up to me.

On the side of the car was a sign, "Evergreen Cemetery." Inside was a balding man in a short-sleeved shirt and tie. He demanded to know if I had gotten permission to photograph there.

"Permission? From where?"

"From the office," he answered.

"I didn't know there was an office."

"Yes, there's an office. It's been there a long time," he said, obviously getting annoyed.

"Well, I didn't know it was there. Why do I need permission? This is a public place."

"You have to get permission to photograph in a cemetery." He was beginning to sweat.

"I've taken photographs in public cemeteries all over the country and have never gotten permission. It's a public place."

"Well, you do here."

"There's no sign."

"What?"

"There's no sign saying you can't take photographs here. I'm not a mind reader. How am I supposed to know this place is different than every other public cemetery in the country?"

"Well, just get permission next time." Looking over his shoulder at Doug he said, "Tell him, too."

Cemetery cops. What else?