Red Light Attention Span

Have you noticed that the cars at the back of the line pay more attention to the traffic light than the cars at the front of the line?

Super Speeder

Super Speeder

I live in Florida. If we want to drive to any other state, the most direct route touches our neighbor to the north, Georgia. In that state, as of January 1, 2010, a law was enacted dubbed “The Super Speeder Law”. The following is a true story as told to me by a friend, who had the misfortune to discover the outrageous law first hand.

*****

I travel to the Carolinas on a regular basis, and I drive through Georgia to do it. One day, I’m cruising along I95, and in the median is parked a Darien City police officer. He drives out of the median and pulls me over. He tells me I was driving 85 mph, and I don’t argue. I wasn’t looking at the speedometer, honestly, so I’m not certain. Why a city cop should be handing out tickets on the interstate was a mystery, but one I wasn’t that intrigued by. I sign for the ticket and move on with my life. After returning to Florida, I mail the fine of $286.00 to the designated address, thinking that was the end of it.

Ah, but they aren’t done with me.

Two weeks later, I received a letter in the mail from the State of Georgia informing me of an additional fine for my infraction. Because I “Pled Guilty” to driving 85 mph, I fall into a category called Super Speeder and charged an additional two hundred dollars! There was no proof of the speed driven, but there was no offer of a way to contest the charge, either. I was an out-of-state driver, ignorant of their local laws, and they had me by the balls.

This is a line from one of their websites, “...any high-risk drivers who make a habit of ignoring posted speed limits will be the first to feel the pinch of higher state fines (called fees) on their wallets...” So, shouldn’t this fine only be assessed after a second (or third) speeding ticket? And then, technically, it should only be for the citizens of Georgia, not out-of-state drivers, because we could not “make a habit” of speeding on the Georgia portion of an interstate.

Another website (Super Speeder Information) admits that a cop doesn’t have to tell you about the law. They inform you by mail, within thirty days after the penalty. So there’s a lie of omission. I didn’t know about the magical “85 mph” law that tacks an extra two hundred dollars on my fine. But, we all know that cops are allowed to lie, don’t we? Oh yeah, one more thing. My license will be suspended if I don’t pay.

“Surprise!” says the State of Georgia. “We can now legally screw you out of an additional two hundred dollars.”

Thanks for visiting Georgia! Ya’ll come on back, real soon.

A Free (Ford Fusion) Car

A true story as told to me by my son, Dan...

            A free 2013 Ford Fusion? Why, yes, I’d be interested in that, thank you.

            It all started with a YouTube video. A thumbnail of one of my favorite stars, Joel McHale, caught my eye, so I clicked it. A National Scavenger Hunt, sponsored by Ford, endorsed by Ryan Seacrest would be held for a total of 47 hours. Forty-seven black boxes were to be placed in forty-seven cities across the nation.

            One of the sites would be my hometown of Orlando, Florida. Two clues of its exact placement would be unlocked on the “Random Acts of Fusion” website at a pre-designated time. With those clues, a ‘word of the day’ posted onsite that must be said to the rep in order to win.

            The first clue: the latitude and longitude of the Ford representative with the box. The second clue being a picture taken from where he stood. Orlando’s clues would be unlocked on October 28, at 11:15am. The problem? Orlando covers a little more than one hundred square miles, and more than 250,000 people here. The chances were slim, but I decided to try.

            October 28. I had rehearsed with my smart phone how to jump back and forth from their website, to my GPS, back to the website. I parked in a location that offered quick access to four of the main thoroughfares branching out into the city. I was set.

            11:15am. The clues unlocked and I fed the coordinates into my map. My strategic placement was perfect. I jumped on I-4 and raced to the Princeton Drive exit. I recognized the somewhat blurred view from the photo. The rep stood on the grounds of the Mennello Museum. I arrived and threw my car in park, frantically trying to decide if view was from the far end behind the building or closer to main road along the river. The museum’s grounds covered a couple of acres. Another car came, a little too quickly, into the parking lot. A decision had to be made. Now.

            On the footbridge about 200 feet away stood two people. Deciding those were the reps, I covered the ground in record time. I glanced back to the other car, smiling inwardly. I had won! But when I reached the people on the bridge, I discovered they were not Ford reps. Arg!

            The occupants of the original car ran the other direction, behind the building. Another car came, and the driver jumped out and ran to follow the first pair. F*ck! I’d made the wrong decision. The rep must be behind the museum.

            Since there was only one winner per locale, I knew I’d lost. I glared down at the water, fifteen feet below, and felt like spitting. I leaned on the handrail and looked up at the Spanish moss hanging off the branches of a nearby oak tree. A breeze moved the moss, allowing a full view of the riverbank. A man stood alone under a pergola at the water’s edge, wearing a Ford t-shirt!

            I ran off the bridge and took the short cut down the side of the steep embankment, rather than the long way around. Flip-flops should not be the shoe of choice when trying to navigate a wet, grassy, steep decline. I lost my footing then slipped, slid and rolled down the entire fifteen feet. When my body came to a stop I jumped up and tried to run. Still making no traction, my feet slipped beneath me. I ran in place for another few seconds. I knew I looked a grass-stained, bloody fool. I didn’t care.

            When I reached the Ford rep, he was doing an admirable job suppressing laughter begging to burst from him. I didn’t care.

            “Damn it! I forgot to get the word of the day!” I blurted as I checked the website on my phone. The man did not utter a sound. I found the word after reaching the spot in front of the Ford rep.

            “Benevolent!” I shouted.

            “Congratulations,” said the grinning man. “You’ve just earned a one in forty-seven chance to win a 2013 Ford Fusion.”

            After filling out the required paperwork (which relinquished my firstborn if I should so much as post a reference to Ford on any social media site prior to the drawing on Tuesday), I received the coveted black box. It contained a water bottle, a travel mug, a tee shirt, a thumb drive and my number for the drawing.

            The coolest part was the number, printed on a holographic sticker inside a plastic display box upon which mounted a model of the 2013 Ford Fusion. Very cool.

            Alas, Tuesday’s drawing is done, and my number did not win. Meh. It was still a blast of fun trying.

Don't drink and drive!

A Joke - - - 

I would like to share an experience with you, about drinking and driving.

As you well know, some of us have been known to have had brushes with the
authorities on our way home from the odd social session over the years.

A couple of nights ago, I was out for a few drinks with some friends at the
Marriott Hotel and had a few too many beers and some rather nice red wine.

Knowing full well I may have been slightly over the limit, I did something
I've never done before: I took a bus home.

Sure enough I passed a police road block but as it was a bus, they waved it
past.

I arrived home safely without incident, which was a real surprise; as I have
never driven a bus before and am not sure where I got it.

Bwahahaha!
I crack me up!!

Driving While Blind

Driving While Blind

I’m driving along a mountain road late in the night. My heart is flying, exhilarated by the steep rises and falls. I see the black sky with so many spots of lights for stars twinkling down at me. It is a most beautiful sight. I hold onto it and long for the g-force of the next rise. I could not be any happier than I am at this moment.

Something in the back of my mind tells me this isn’t right. Then it occurs to me, I’m looking at those spots of light, but I’m going downhill. I blink several times, trying to clear my vision, but nothing changes. I turn my head to the left, and then to the right. All I see is the blackness, with little spots of light, mocking me. How long have I been driving like this? Where am I?

I am now aware I’m driving a straight road but still have the sight of the light spots, and nothing else. I attempt to rationalize away the problem. I convince myself my eyes are closed, and I simply have to open them.

The speed at which I’m traveling is beyond frightening, but I tell myself not to panic, ‘just open your eyes’!

Try as I may, my eyes will not open. I lift my brows until they reach my hairline. I force the muscles in my lids to pull up. Then I have to blink to relieve the dryness. To my disappointment, I accept my eyes are open. I am blind.

The situation I find myself in suddenly registers. So caught up in the fear of my blindness, I haven’t done anything to control my forward velocity. If I don’t stop this car, I will die!

I take my foot off of the accelerator, and I feel the car begin to slow. My palms are sweating and my heart is racing. My breath is coming short and shallow to the point of nearly holding it. The only sight before me is a multitude of spots of light on black.

I know I’m blind, but I cannot allow my fear to control me. I will not panic, at least not yet. I turn my right signal on to show whoever might be near me I am getting off the road to the shoulder. Slowly pressing the brake pedal, I ease the car over. It occurs to me there may not have been a shoulder, but I know I must stop the car and get off this road.

To my great relief, the car comes to a stop without collision. It is now that I allow all of the emotions held at bay loose. Collapsing onto the steering wheel, I sob with gratitude, mixed with fear. Then a deep terror sinks in--I am blind! The light spots still haunt me as I cry.

Two sharp taps on the window jolt me out of my pool of tears and angst. Turning my head toward the raps, I open my eyes, and there is a police officer staring in at me.

Wait. I can see! I can see daylight, I can see the construction site I somehow managed to maneuver my car onto without hitting any of the barricades. I can see the ‘End of Road’ sign on the pavement to the left of me. And, I can see the cliff I might have driven off of if I had not realized my blindness. I begin to laugh uncontrollably with the relief of life granted and sight returned.

I put down the window. In the instant of seeing this man’s face, I realize how odd I must appear. With eyes and cheeks wet from tears falling, snot running out of my nose, my face must be red, yet I’m still laughing. I suppress the laughter as best I can, but I am smiling ear to ear with the joy of restored sight! I wipe my nose with the back of my hand and laughingly ask, “Yes, officer?”

“What are you doing here?” he asked with a stern voice.

“Um...I’m not really sure. Uh, I was blind for a short while and then, then my sight returned.”

“Uh huh. You were blind?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And now you see?”

“Yes, sir!”

“License and registration, please.”

Then I woke up in my own bed.