I drive a mustang, and sometimes, I drive at a high rate of speed.  I admit it.

Saturday morning, as Melissa and I were driving home from Tahoe, I was enjoying the curves in the road along 50, and enjoying the day with my wife.  We had a really great time with my coworkers and their family.  The weather was beautiful.  It was a very comfortable ride home.

I had been thinking that I might try and drive a little slower, just to take it easy going home.  I’d received tickets on that road before, and I knew that there were plenty of police out in force that day.  I thought well in advance that I’d take it slower, and for the most part, I did.

I still wanted to do the speed limit, though, and I wound up behind someone that was going a bit below it.  I wound wound following the slowpoke for a while, and then wound up with an SUV wanting to go even faster behind me.  So in other words, another one of my typical driving experiences.

The first passing lane we got to, the slowpoke sped up.  The SUV behind me got ahead of me, but wasn’t able to get in front of the slowpoke.

The second passing lane we came to, the SUV quickly got in front of the slowpoke.  I had to speed up significantly to get in front of the slowpoke (because he sped up at the passing lane).  And then I saw the highway patrol turn on his lights, do a u-turn, and come after me.  I pulled over.

The officer came up to my window, and was polite.  I was polite as well.  He asked me how fast he thought I was going.  I told him that I’d been going between 60 and 65.  He told me I had been going 73.  I didn’t argue with him.

He asked if I’d been drinking, and I told him that I hadn’t been.  He asked if I had a bad driving record, and I told him that it was fairly clean.  The last time I had a speeding ticket was several years ago, I think.  He asked who my insurance provider was, and I told him.  He didn’t ask for proof, which I thought was a little unusual.  He went back to his car.

I waited with Melissa, and I tried not to feel down about it.  It didn’t really feel fair.  I thought about my options.  Maybe if I went to court over it and explained it to the judge, it’d get excused or dismissed.  I expected the worst, but I wasn’t going to let it get me down.

The officer returned to my car, on Melissa’s side, handed my license and registration back, and asked me to just keep it down to 55.

And that was it.  No speeding ticket.  Just a warning.  When was the last time I was let off with just a warning?

It made me very thankful.  Melissa and I went on home, and I basically drove as I’d been driving.  I tried to keep it under the speed limit, and mostly succeeded.  Mostly.

The experience brought a number of things into focus for me.  I’m writing more.  I’m doing well in work.  I’m donating time to teaching kids programming (even if that doesn’t feel all that successful, all the time).  I’m playing in a community band.  I give blood regularly.  I’m trying to keep a positive attitude.  I even try to stay polite when I’m about to get a speeding ticket.  Getting a warning instead of a fine just felt like a small reward, for doing what I’m supposed to be doing and being true to myself and the people around me.

It’s funny how a little thing like that can be a reminder to be thankful.