When The Rubber Hits The Road

Good Morning! How is your day? Have you made any big plans? Oh, that sounds lovely!

Me? Well, thank-you for asking! I really can't think of anything I would rather be doing this morning than what's on my schedule!

I am joining other driving enthusiasts for a little seminar. I believe it is called "Driver's Improvement Class."  It was a little pricey, but hey, you get what you pay for!  Hmm..what should I wear? Probably nothing too racy...

I always appreciate being in an environment where I can meet new people. And, look! We'll already  have so much in common! I'm sure we will go around the room and share what it is that brings us all together today. And, maybe we will say little encouraging things to each other like "there probably shouldn't have been a stop sign in that location anyway"..."of course you were speeding; everyone drives too fast when THAT song comes on"..."one persons definition of reckless is just another's definition of skill!" We'll nod, understanding each other completely.

The important thing is: what our insurance company doesn't know, won't hurt us! And, that is why we will give up this beautiful Saturday morning to spend a cozy little 9 hours together in a little tiny basement room. (and DON"T be late..and bring your passport..I mean ID;)

I have a vague memory of Drivers Improvement School from 20 something years ago. When I first moved to Virginia from California I got several little speeding tickets in a row, embarrassing my new husband. It's a small town, and everyone knew him, and soon they knew me.

All I can say is that I was suffering from culture shock. The road on which I was driving daily was one big, long beautiful stretch. But, just because something feels like an autobahn, doesn't mean it IS an autobahn.

So, I found myself attending the class in the local high school. The main thing that stands out to me is, while on a break (apparently a smoke break) a young boy asked me if I wanted to smoke a joint. Smoke a joint? On a break from traffic school? With a police officer 30 feet away? And do I look like someone who would smoke a joint with you? Is it the California thing? I blame my hair. My problem hair, hair that looks like I just got off a motorcycle without a helmet. Pot smoke'n hippy hair. (Driving School is a trip:)

Geez, it's going to be a long day. I wonder if I can pack my Keurig? I would bring enough to share. (I have been told I have the gift of hospitality.) And, maybe a little basket of muffins? Or, does that look too Teacher's Pet-ish?

See ya in a few hours!