Speeding is a risk worth taking

By Debbie Irmen (Contact) | The Daily Journal

Published Thursday, January 24, 2008

Debbie Irmen

Generally speaking, I am a law-abiding citizen.

I learned at the knee of my dad — and from the palm of his hand — that one shouldn't steal from another.

I think I learned about the sanctity of life as I watched my grandmother hack the heads off chickens on the farm.

I learned to be kind to animals from reading "Black Beauty."

I don't recall who taught me to speed — as when driving a car, not the same as "doing speed," a popular habit in the 1960s and '70s. It could still be a popular pastime for all I know.

I never got into drugs, unless you count the two times I "experimented" with marijuana. To this day I'm not sure I even inhaled since I didn't experience any odd hallucinations, though I had a serious bout of the munchies ... just kidding.

I didn't even drink alcohol until I was legal — well, OK, one time before I became of legal age I drank until I was so sick I had no appetite for liquor for a very, very long time. Kept me out of trouble, though.

Part of my goody-two-shoes persona was the fear of getting caught because as a child, I always got caught when I did something naughty.

Rather than hankering for the full adeneline rush of taking a wild risk, I generally take what I consider calculated risks, those which I think I’m most likely to get away with, and which will still give me a bit of a rush.

I share the following at great personal risk of becoming a target of law enforcement throughout the state: I like to drive fast.

Not excessively fast because I don't have a death wish, but just fast enough to feel like I'm getting away with something.

Lord only knows why I haven't received numerous speeding tickets especially when I'm driving on the freeway; that traffic is frequently faster than my speeding comfort zone allows me to drive.

One time while driving on the Interstate, I was pulled over. Why I didn't get a ticket I have no clue — my license had expired several years prior, my last name had changed two years earlier and so had my address. There was nothing current on my driver's license and I was clocked doing 20 miles over the speed limit on poor winter roads, to boot.

The officer wrote me a warning and with the stern suggestion I slow down, we parted company. I drove the speed limit for a long time afterwards.

Some gals are proud to report they got an extremely good bargain on a piece of clothing; I am proud to say I can go from one place to another in a short time frame. For instance, it is a five-hour drive from my house to my grandparents’ house.

Most people think it's a six-hour drive, but they probably stop for lunch, potty breaks and who knows what else to draw the trip out. Not me. I do it in five hours or less.

I once worked for an editor who took the back roads every where he went. Never mind he could get there faster through use of a modern convenience known as an Interstate highway. He usually shared with us something interesting he saw or experienced along the way and I enjoyed his stories, but I never adopted his philosphy.

I am the opposite — I want to get where I'm going fast so I can enjoy the people I'm traveling to see.

And why, oh why, would I want to spend five hours getting somewhere when the trip can be reduced to four hours by taking a shortcut, like the Interstate?

My husband will sometimes take the back roads, but he usually doesn't do it with me in the car — I'm not really a patient passenger.

It's my opinion there are far better ways to enjoy life than spending it in a cramped vehicle traveling from point A to point B.

Mostly I am a law-abiding citizen; if only I could avoid getting behind the wheel of a vehicle when I am prone to adopt the mantra of a popular television commercial — "zoom, zoom."

Debbie Irmen’s column runs on Thursdays.