Speeders

Do you know what I hate?

I hate speeders.

I'm what is known in the parlance, a nice guy. Damn near everyone likes me upon meeting me.

Now, I'm going to admit to you that in my youth, I have been a speeder. I was Lightning McQueen before there was Lightning McQueen.

I wanted to be A.J. Foyt, the Mad Texan who won a ton of Indy 500 races - just because we shared the same two initials! True.

I've driven fast. Very fast. Scary, holy cow, what the hell just passed us fast. I've used a Laser/Radar detector. I've driven my then new Hyundai Tiburon to the point that I was pushing it past the point where the speedometer stops counting.

Despite the reckless abandon I showed, I was a very good driver. I did not swerve in and out of traffic, I signaled even if there was no one around me (just good practice), and I never, ever hi-beamed anyone to get out of my way. I never sped during rush hour, and certainly never (almost never) sped during the day time. I never sped on city streets, either. If I sped, and when I sped, it was at night when the roads were clearer.

To me, it was like playing a video game, though I never, ever raced anyone - and while I am an extremely good video game player, I am aware that you get multiple lives. Just not in real life.   

And... despite all of this, I never got a speeding ticket - except twice for going 62 in a 50 kilometer per hour zone. I used to laugh, thinking how they should have seen me hours before doing nearly 200 kph more than that.

I admit this here, because I acknowledge how very wrong I was. In my youth.

I was reckless, and not only could I have killed myself, I could have injured or killed others. I was stupid. Very stupid.

My car was not tricked out. I didn't have roll bars. Special tires or brakes. At any point in time in my activities, I could have lost control or had a tire blow out on me. And then it would have been game over.

And then I became a father.

All of a sudden, I discovered a lane on the roadways that I had previously called the pussy-lane. Yes, such colorful language. The slow lane.

Hunh. Here, I could go the speed limit or just below it, if I chose. Cars did not expect me to move over, and no one could begrudge my legal speed - and no one ever did/does.

Thank to my son... I slowed down. And stayed there. I was immature, and now, at the very least, if not mature, I am less immature.

Now I ride in the slow lane and watch people whip past me at 30-70 kilometers over the speed limit and I shake my head in amazement that anyone can be that stupid and reckless.  

I am one lucky stupid son of a bitch. And I aim to keep it that way by continuing to drive the legal speed limit and obeying all the traffic laws.

So, by mentioning this here, if you are like I was - slow down. I was lucky once upon a time... but one's luck can run out when you least expect it.  

And so it may seem as though I hate myself, well, I hate the way I used to drive, and my lack of respect for others on the road.

Hopefully, I haven't lost your respect, and even if I have, that's okay, I deserve it. But...

Do you know what I hate?

I hate speeders.