Cruise control is a blessing and a curse. Whenever I have to travel any length, I use cruise control, mainly to ensure that I don’t go too fast—getting speeding tickets stinks and can be pricey.
All too often, the following situation happens: I’m driving down the road, fat, dumb and happy. Ahead of me, in my lane, is a car which is going slower than I am. As I get closer, I check the passing lane, and if it is clear, I’ll go around the person. No big deal, right?
A little while later, the person I passed is coming up on my tail. Many times they’ll pass me, and before you know it, I’m creeping up on them again.
The whole time, my speed hasn’t changed. And this drives me nuts.
I was thinking about this and how it compares to life. Many times I feel like I’m just chugging along. I’m the kind of person to plans things out and gets after them, pacing myself. Then BOOM! Someone will call me or email or something and tell me they needs help right then.
Of course, I’ll do what I can to help them. And in doing so, I’ll figure out what caused the urgent matter. Often, the reason for the problem is due to poor planning, or someone putting something off until the last minute. In a sense, I’m the one keeping my speed steady, and they are the ones changing speeds. Sometimes they get in my way, and I have to slow down, or sometimes they go zipping by me, sometimes recklessly.
I’m pretty chill with the “live and let live” attitude, or to be clearer, that everyone has a right to choose.
However, as my college English students are finding out, when I say an assignment is due, it is due. It’s been interesting how many students have Internet or computer problems 30 minutes before an assignment is due.
So yes, I tell me students, I believe you when you say your computer blew up or the Internet suddenly disappeared. I also believe I gave you a week to do the assignment which could have been done before the last minute.
“But! But! But!” they say.
I respond, “My speed hasn’t changed. I’m on cruise control.”
The radar gun read “92 mph.”
Sighing, the police officer pulled his patrol car onto the nearly deserted highway and then turned on his siren.
The red sports car was a good ways ahead of him, but if the driver had any sense, he’d see the flashing lights in his rearview mirror and pull over.
The police officer accelerated until he started to close the gap. For a moment, he thought the sports car would make a run for it. He was about to call for backup when he saw the speeding vehicle slow down. Soon enough, it pulled off the side of the road.
After pulling in behind the sports car, he carefully got out and approached the driver’s side. Shortly, he could see it was a male driver, and a young one at that.
The young man rolled down his window, but didn’t say anything. The police officer didn’t sense any danger from the kid—if anything, he sensed contempt.
“Any idea how fast you were going there, son?” the police officer asked.
“Around ninety.”
“And do you know what the speed limit is?”
The response took the officer by surprise. “No. And I don’t really care. I think it’s a stupid law and I don’t see why I should have to follow it.”
There was an embroidered logo on the young man’s shirt. It was from a local country club for only the richest of the rich. It wasn’t the first time the police officer had dealt with this same type of attitude. But it wasn’t always from the wealthy. It was from people of all ages, races and economic situations. Frankly, he was tired of it.
“I see,” said the police officer.
He took his gun from his holster. The young man’s eyes grew wide.
Two shots rang out.
The result was two flat tires on the sports car.
“What do you think you’re doing?” The young man said, clearly exasperated. “You can’t do that! It’s against the law! Oh, when my father’s lawyers get a hold of you, you’ll—”
The officer shut him up by lifting his gun.
“You know, I don’t really care. I think it’s a stupid law and I don’t see why I should have to follow it.”
