Putting On the Brakes

I had just finished replacing the brake pads on the van and was running up and down the road to make sure they were grabbing properly.  The stretch of road I'd chosen to do this was nearby the old homestead, and traffic was infrequent, especially at this time of night.  Satisfied the brakes were good, I headed home.

Along this particular stretch of road, there is a long since abandoned turn off.  It is now barely visible after years of growth. But if you look closely you can still make out the interruption in the ditch where the culvert still lays.

If this were a day where I was resisting the thought of getting old, I'd tell you of a story that happened 'some time ago'. Today I'm comfortable telling you it happened 27 years ago.  There was a time when owning anything that was 27 years old was unthinkable, never mind a memory. This particular event WAS terrifying, especially to a couple of crazy kids.  Time, though, does have a way of transforming certain things into something to be remembered fondly.

It all started out pretty well.  We'd just left the dance and we both pretty happy with the way we'd related on the dance floor.  That old adage: "All good things come to an end", wasn't sitting well with us and we'd wanted to continue what we'd started back at the school.  I knew just what to do.

We drove to that now well-hidden turn-off where we would do what a couple of crazy kids tend to do out of sight.  She was a particularly enthusiastic 'crazy kid', and since we'd been taught that procrastination was never a good thing, well, we were getting things done.

I recall things were going swimmingly when instantly the inside of the car was lit up with bright blue and red lights.  If our hearts weren't racing before this, they were sure as hell racing now.  We both scramble to first find, then wrestle ourselves into our clothes, but having the luck I tend to have, I found both of my feet in the same leg of my jeans when the knock of the flashlight happened at the window.

I'm sure the look on my face was something to behold.  Officer Baker ordered the window lowered.  I did with both feet in one leg of my jeans and well conscious I hadn't lost any starch. That part of me has never been a very good listener.

To his credit, Officer Baker asked her if she wanted to be here.  I laugh today at her response.  "Well, not now!" she said.  I always loved her silver tongue.  He admonished us as well he should have and was on his way, though not until I drove off myself.  Officer Baker of course was well known to my parents, and for the longest time, I worried that it would get back to the folks.  It never did.

I laugh to myself today, thinking that blue and red lights bring things to a halt a whole lot faster than any new brake pads ever could.

Later

Deaner