When You Realize The Red And Blue Lights Are Meant For You...

You know the feeling, a feeling more dramatic when it happens at night. You're driving and lights from the car (or truck, or motorcycle...) change from the ordinary white to a smattering of reds and blues. You slow down and move to the shoulder of the road...

And the car/truck/motorcycle does not drive by...it pulls up behind you.

Crap.

It happened last night as my daughter and I were returning from a late-night rehearsal. I was stopped at a red light in the left turn lane. Once we got the green light I made the turn then quickly got in the right lane. I was going to turn at the next light to enter the freeway. I notice one car behind me, not unusual, but the roads were almost abandoned at that hour.

The light was red so I slowed and just as I got to the intersection, it turned green. I made the right-hand turn. The car that was following me did as well. Then the car behind me hit the reds and blues and I was pulled over.

You know that feeling when you get pulled over you wonder, first--what did I do wrong? I couldn't think of anything. You then wonder (if you're like me...), is there something wrong with my car--a light out or something? I'd learn soon enough. As the policeman got out of his car I turned to my daughter and told her I hadn't gotten a ticket in probably 30 years.

I rolled down my window. He introduced himself and I asked what was the problem.

"You forgot to signal when you made that right-hand turn."

Yup--he was right. 

I apologized, handed over my driver's license, then awaited my fate. I told my daughter I thought I had signaled. She said I always use my signal. Apparently, that's not true.

He returned, handed me my license, and told me to make sure I use my signal from now on. I thanked him, told him I would, and we both drove away. I spent the rest of the trip playing "wise council dad" to my daughter. I told her I didn't argue. I didn't get mad. I kept my hands 10 and 2 on the steering wheel--she asked about that one. I told her cops are trained to watch the hands. If someone's going to try and do you harm, watching the hands gives you the most time to react. At least, that's what I've been told. I made sure my hands were visible the entire time.

He gave me a warning. He didn't have to. I'm not 100%s sure, but I think they check my record to look up past offenses. Without any--at least, recent--violations, it makes a difference when they're deciding to ticket or not to ticket. And as long as I keep a clean driving record, let's hope my theory holds true from now on. Better yet, let's hope I don't see the red and blues flashing in my rearview mirror again.

"Did You Know Your Taillight's Out...?"

I passed the two cops parked at the bottom of the hill, one with lights flashing, the other not. I really didn't think much of it. I mean, I pass cops all the time. So, it was all the more surprising when I glanced in my rearview mirror and saw it ablaze in bright lights.

Crap, I thought, Instantly I recalled the last third of a mile I traveled since I passed the cops. Did I run a stop light? I don't think so. I know the registration sticker is current. Did I speed as I drove up the hill? Probably, but not excessively--not like I used to...

Ah, yes...like I used to. 

Back in the day I had what you'd call a "lead foot." I partially blame the Danes. You see, back in high school when I first learned to drive, I drove an old VW bug (about which I've blogged many times...). The thing did not move, almost to the point where I almost got tickets for driving too slow. I always wanted to make a parody music video of I Can't Drive 55 with my car.

Then, I moved to Denmark for a couple of years and had access to a car for part of that time. I know that Utahns get knocked quite a bit for their driving skills, or the lack thereof. Let's just say the same cannot be said for Europeans. Those people know how to drive. And lucky for them, the cars they sell and drive in Europe are made to be driven, and driven quickly.

So, I feel I learned to drive in Denmark with the Danes. This turned out to be a problem for me once I returned home, and I HATED driving at home. The people were too slow and they NEVER got out of the fast lane. I drove bugs and VS Rabbits at the time, the Rabbits were a tad quicker. And I was a jerk behind the wheel. My attitude translated to several tickets.

Fast forward almost thirty years and things have changed. I even surprise myself by how differently I drive now. Then again, when you're driving a minivan, there's just no way to look cool. And I'm okay with that. Plus, know I'm a safer driver which is better for me, my family and everyone else on the road.

"I'm sorry, Officer," I said as I dug into my glove box and fished out the proper paperwork. "Is there a problem?" My mind still searched for any reason to be stopped.

"I pulled you over to let you know your taillight's out, so you need to get that taken care of."

"You bet, officer. Thanks for letting me know."

Whew!