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Thursday, September 3, 2015

Crime or Stupidity


1953 Corvette 

Before I even get into the body of this post, let me clarify that I am not looking for absolution especially because the statute of limitations is long past.  Back in the early high school years when I purchased my first car (used1956 Ford Victoria) in the early 60’s, I was the man (at least one of three).  The best 3 cars at my high school (in order of bragging rights) were a 1953 Chevrolet Corvette Roadster (Ron’s family owned and operated the local Funeral Home) (side note:  I hated wrestling against him during team practice because whenever he applied or attempted to apply a half-nelson his hands would be near my face and they smelled of formaldehyde), the second car was a 1956 Ford Thunderbird (Dave’s parents owned a couple of used car lots), the third car was my car 1956 Ford Victoria with a moon roof.  I worked hard for my car.

One of my best friends (also Hispanic) at the time liked my car so much that he bought a car just like mine but a year older (1955) and the same color.  Well, the stage is set for the question of Crime or Stupidity.

One fine weekend I was driving in a neighboring small town, and had the opportunity to show off in front if some young men from a rival high school, and I did.  I floored the gas pedal as I took off from an intersection (with some gravel at the stop sign).  As I took off, making lots of noise with my Cherry Bomb Glasspack dual exhaust mufflers, the car fishtailed and I know the guys were impressed.  Unfortunately two blocks later a local police officer pulled me over sirens blasting and all.

I must admit my legs felt weak, but I was able to control all my other bodily functions (James Dean or Marlon Brando I wasn’t).  Actually whenever I drove my car, I felt more like Robert Mitchum (the character from Thunder Road).  I had a split second to decide what I was going to do or say and that is where Stupidity comes in.  When the office approached my window he noticed I was very young and he decided to pile it on.  His first question was; “Was that you making all that racket I heard?”
I was trying to be firm but polite and didn’t want to further aggravate him.  I said, I don’t know what you heard, but I did spin my tires taking off from a stop sign a couple of blocks back due to some gravel at the intersection.

He said you weren’t taking off, you mean blasting off.  He next asked me for my driver’s license, and this is where I decided to lie.  I said I didn’t have my wallet with me.  I had left it at home when I changed pants.  He asked me for my name, and I gave him the name of my best friend (the one that owned a car like mine).  When he asked for an address, I gave him my friends address.
He said since I didn’t see you making all that noise and driving recklessly, I’m going to let you get off with a warning, but I will keep your name on the dash of my patrol car, and if I ever stop you again, I will throw the book at you. 


I’ve never told this to anyone, because I wasn’t proud of myself, but at this point I really didn’t want to take it to my grave.  As guilty as I feel I still wouldn’t dare confess to my friend.  Life has been great, now that the slate is clean, I can consider myself an honorable man again.  The best is yet to come……….. 

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