Tuesday, June 28, 2011

Informal Lessons On Skirting The Law

Last week, I let the #1 son take a short trip on the highway. It was my second attempt at riding shotgun with him on the interstate. He is 16. He knows it all. And he learned it from the teachers at school.

I voiced a slight concern that he was driving 65 in a 60 mph zone. And wouldn't you know it, karma smiled on me, and provided a state highway patrol car just over the next hill.

See? Now will you slow down?

Oh, I don't need to slow down. I'm only going five miles over the limit.

That's my point. You're going OVER the speed limit.

I can go up to nine miles over and still be all right.


That's what Mrs. Lunchbuddy told us, when we went to the robot competition. 'Nine is fine. Ten, you're mine.' That's what the police say.

Oh, really.

Uh huh. And did you know that you can't be convicted if the radar wasn't calibrated in the past twenty-four hours?

No, I did not. Where did you hear that?

Mr. Lunch Guy told us. On that trip to the industrial arts competition. You can get a ticket, but if you fight it, and they don't have documentation about the calibration, you don't have to pay.

I think I need to have a word with my cronies at lunch next year. And while I'm at it, I'm going to thank Arch Nemesis SO MUCH for teaching you the Yellow Car game on the way to those academic meets.

Here's the deal. We don't have a driver's ed course. I don't need various and assorted teachers giving my novice driver tips on how to skirt the law. And I would live happily ever after if I didn't hear the words yellow and car used together ever again. Have you ever played that game? While driving around, you shout YELLOW CAR every time you see one. The person with the most at the end of the trip wins. It grates on your nerves if you're the driver.

Especially if you're trying to hold your speed at nine miles over the speed limit.


Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

Hmmm...The insurance company will just LOVE to hear that a 16 year old new driver has been ticketed for speeding.

Explain to him what kind of guys become cops. No use trying to reason with them. Once you're pulled over you ARE getting a ticket. Court is a joke. The only way I've ever gotten out of one is to have a friend "take care of it" for me.

Hillbilly Mom said...

I tried to tell him that I think they can take his license until he's 18. I can't keep up with all of Missouri's newfangled driver laws.

I used to hang out with a guy in college who became a highway patrolman. It's a good ol' boy network. He's too far removed from the network now to be of any help to me. Though I think he owes me one from that time he was deep undercover in methland and I ran into him in a Casey's General Store and did not shout, "Hey, how's the Highway Patrol treatin' you these days?"

Mommy Needs a Xanax said...

lol...being an undercover cop in small town USA has got to be a b----

Hillbilly Mom said...

Actually, he was sent deep into the hinterlands where banjos play and toothless hillbillies are on the lookout for dudes with purty mouths. I'm sure it's just to admire their teeth.

My HP buddy had come back to our area for a couple days, but I still recognized him under his hillbilly meth beard.