True Confessions of a Speed Demon...

                                            

     Yesterday I drove down to visit with my mother and have lunch with her. I do this at least once a week, and take the same route every time. It takes about 45 minutes to get from my home to hers. Yesterday though, I had a delay in the route as I drove through the town of Plainfield, Indiana...

     I got a speeding ticket. I was clocked going 56 mph in a 40 mph zone by one of Plainfield's finest. The area I was in was a two lane rural road, one of many in the county in which I live. I drive them all the time, and rarely pay attention to my speed when I do. It was a beautiful day, sunny and bright, and I had the radio on. I was full of thoughts about pretty much everything except how fast I was going. So, when the cop approached the driver's side of the car and said, "Ma'am, I have stopped you for speeding. I clocked you going 56. Were you aware the speed limit was 40 here?" I answered without thinking, "No Officer, I thought the speed limit was 55 here."

     Now as I said, I drive this route at least weekly. I knew very well the speed limit was not 55. I have no idea why I blurted this out-- it simply was not true. The cop's eyebrows shot up, and you guessed it, he wrote me a ticket. As well I deserved. I had not only been violating the speed limit, but I totally had lied to him about why. And I know better.

     I was raised by parents who preached honesty. I can hear my father saying, "Barb, if you always tell the truth you will never have to remember a single thing you say..." As I have traveled through life the wisdom in this has always shone through. Above all, I have wanted to be honest. I tried in raising my children to teach them the same thing. And I also believe that a person's integrity shines the brightest when she thinks no one is looking... such as when faced with a traffic violation on a country road... Shame on me!

     In thinking about all this, I am reminded of an incident that occurred last fall on our vacation out to the mountains. We were driving along a mountain river known for white water rafting, and stopped at a place where they launch the rafts. The water was high and fierce, and I wanted some photos. There were steep steps down to the launch and we were both down there when a family pulled up in a van and got out. There was a mom and dad and two school aged children. One, a boy of about 9 or 10, decided to throw some rocks from the parking lot area down towards the river. The problem was, he hit me with one of them-- just on my leg and it didn't do any damage. But, it hurt and I yelled. The father saw what happened, and next thing I knew, the boy was climbing down the steps towards me. He looked scared to death, and very, very serious. He kind of sucked in his breath when he got close to me and then apologized for throwing the rock. I knew my reaction would be important for this boy, so I was very serious in my reply. I told him that I was very thankful he had come to apologize, that it was the right thing to do, and that I knew he had learned that throwing rocks could hurt people and he wouldn't do it again. He nodded, and I thanked him. He ran back to his father, and the family got back in the van and drove away. Lanny and I both commented on how grateful we were that this father had held his son accountable in this way.

     Like that young boy, I need to be held accountable for my behavior. I am admitting to you all my guilt and like that young boy, I promise I won't do it again...